Read Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire Book 4) Page 7


  His expression darkened, and he pocketed his hands. “I said drop it.” He started to walk away. She almost let him go, but then chased after him.

  When she caught up to him, she grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to a stop. “No. No, you don’t get to kiss me like that, then talk to me as if I don’t matter to you. You want to be with me? Be nice to me. You want to be an asshole—go, but don’t come back. Maybe you’re angry with the world and maybe it has something to do with whatever left that scar on your face, but I had nothing to do with that.”

  He looked at her hand on his arm, then met her gaze. The torment in his eyes pulled at Sage’s heart. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “Okay.” Sage let out a long, slow breath. She wanted to demand to know why, but in her experience, people shared when they were ready.

  “It would be easy to fall into bed with you.”

  “Not that easy,” she felt the need to protest. She’d never had sex outside a relationship.

  His nostrils flared, and the air sizzled between them. “I’m not in a good place right now. I’m still figuring out a few things. Fucking you would just confuse me more.”

  Sage released his arm. What did a woman say to that? “Well, I’m glad we’ve covered how you would feel about it.”

  He shrugged. “You’d be devastated when I moved on. And I would move on. I always do.”

  “Wow.” That’s quite an ego he has there. “I really dodged a bullet.” She didn’t attempt to disguise the sarcasm in her voice. How did I imagine he could be the one for me? Maybe I do need to get my head checked.

  He gave her a funny look. “All I’m trying to say is that I have a lot more shit going on in my life right now than I can talk to you about. Starting anything with you wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  Sage folded her arms across her chest. “That’s fine.”

  “I thought we could be friends, but every time I’m near you, I really want to—”

  “Got it,” Sage said, while raising one hand up for him to stop. The last thing she wanted was to hear another person make excuses for why they didn’t want to be with her. “Well, this is it. Thanks for helping me find my next client.”

  He frowned but didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just glared at her. “What happens if that guy calls you?”

  “What do you mean what happens?”

  “Don’t meet up with him.”

  “Wait, you don’t want to be with me, but you think you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Sage rolled her eyes skyward. “He’s a little old man practically crying in the park over a dog. Did he look dangerous to you?”

  “You’re too trusting.”

  “Even with you?”

  He swore beneath his breath. “Even with me.”

  Sage hiked her purse farther up on her shoulder and met his angry gaze. “That’s a real shame, because I was starting to like you.”

  With her chin high in the air, she turned and walked away. He didn’t follow.

  “He has so much shit going on in his life,” she muttered as she walked back to her apartment. “Too much shit to share. It wouldn’t be fair to me.”

  A man in a suit at her side gave her an odd look, then said, “He’s married.” He walked on by.

  Sage gasped. “I didn’t even think of that. That bastard probably has a wife.”

  Just then her phone rang. Bella. Coincidence or message from the universe? “Hi, Bella.”

  “Hey, Sage. Just checking in on you. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

  “Easy, tiger. I’m not suggesting anything. Best friend here. I call all the time, and usually you don’t jump down my throat about it, but now that you have, I need to ask—what’s wrong? Because you sound upset.”

  Sage sighed. “Did you do the background check on Wayne Easton?”

  “Oh, shit. No. I forgot. This case kind of sucked me in. Why? Have you seen him again? Is there a problem?”

  Sage slapped a hand on her forehead. “No. No problem. At least not on his side.”

  “Oh boy. What happened?”

  Sage arrived back at her apartment and let herself in. “If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

  “You are crazy, but I still love you. Spill it.”

  Sage kicked off her shoes. “I took him with me today to find a client.”

  “Wait, so you no longer think he needs help?”

  “Oh, he needs help. I just don’t know if I’m the one meant to do it.”

  “You’re beginning to worry me, Sage. I think you should stay away from this guy.”

  “That’s pretty much a moot point now.”

  “Good.”

  “Not good.” Sage collapsed onto her couch. “He kissed me, and for just a second I thought I saw—forever.”

  “Sage—”

  “Don’t say it, Bella. I know. It’s ridiculous. He’s obviously troubled. I’m probably transferring my abandonment issues to him. I realize he can’t fill that void. I didn’t sleep with him. It was just a kiss. It didn’t matter. And I’m not going to see him again, and it’s probably for the best. Okay?” Sage sucked in a breath only when her rushed speech came to an end.

  After a pause, Bella asked, “Which wine would you like me to bring over tonight?”

  “You choose. You have good taste.” Sage could have said she didn’t need the wine or the comfort company, but she missed Bella. It would be good to see her. “Hey, on a happier subject, I met my next client today.”

  “You did? Who?”

  “I don’t know his name yet, but I already have a plan for him if he calls me. It came to me the second I saw him holding on to a dog collar so sadly, like he’d just lost his best friend. He looked so lonely. I might need your help.”

  “My help?”

  “Just with the introductions. That’s it. We get them in the same room, and if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”

  “Sometimes when you start talking, Sage, I feel like I tuned in right in the middle. Am I supposed to know who we’re discussing?”

  “Think, Bella. Who do you know who loves dogs?”

  “My neighbor?”

  Even though Bella sounded skeptical, Sage was never bothered by her comments, because at the heart of their friendship there was acceptance for their differences. Sage could never imagine sitting in an office all day poring over paperwork, but she didn’t judge Bella for thriving on the challenge of it. Bella worried about Sage, but that didn’t stop her from celebrating Sage’s successes with each client. Mutual trust. That’s what it came down to for Sage. She felt suddenly sorry for Wayne, because he sounded like someone who needed someone like that in his life.

  “It won’t happen for about a week,” Sage said with confidence. “I gave the man my card. First, he has to call. We’ll go shopping for plants together. Then I’ll figure out if Mrs. Hartman would even be a good fit for him.”

  “Don’t meet him alone,” Bella interjected.

  “You sound like Wayne now. You know I’ll be careful. We’ll meet somewhere busy. I’ve done this a hundred times. Don’t worry.”

  “I’ll try. You must have kick-ass guardian angels, because things always seem to work out. Just make sure to tell me when and where you’re meeting this stranger who may try to lock you up in his basement.”

  Sage chuckled. It wasn’t the first time Bella had tossed out that dire possibility. “I will, but trust me, he’s not dangerous. I have a good sense about these things.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to test that theory. See you at seven? Your place?”

  “I’ll make dinner. Come hungry.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  Sage pushed herself off the couch and headed to her kitchen to see if she had what she needed for dinner. As she rummaged through her fridge, she remembered the woman she’d canceled having a meal with and the apology she
owed her. She almost called her then but decided it could wait one more day. She felt emotionally drained.

  Chapter Six

  When it came to fucking up a good thing, Eric’s record remained solid.

  Eric slammed his fist into the cushion beside him. Being with Sage had been amazing. Her view of people and how things were supposed to work was so different from anything he’d ever experienced. Prior to meeting her, he wouldn’t have believed people like her actually existed. Sweet. Caring. Dedicated to doing good.

  Although I’m still not exactly sure how she’s going to help that man.

  I’ll probably fucking never know now.

  The door of his apartment opened. “Hello, sunshine. How was your week?”

  “I’m not in the mood, Reggie.”

  Reggie planted himself in the chair across from Eric. “Yeah, mine wasn’t that great, either. It’s your grandmother. She plays with my mind like a ninja, and I think she’s winning.”

  Eric stood and walked to the window. “So avoid her.”

  “I can’t. I’ve started to feel bad for her. You have to go see her.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “You’re going to feel like shit if she dies and you didn’t visit.”

  “I feel like shit already.”

  Reggie clocked Eric on the side of the head.

  Eric spun on his heel, his hand flying up to where he’d been hit. “What the fuck was that?”

  “That’s what my dad would have done if I said shit like that. Come back to the house. I’m almost done with my surprise, but what I’ve finished might be enough for now.”

  Still angry, Eric leaned in and growled, “Don’t ever fucking lay a hand on me again.”

  Reggie raised both hands in front of himself in mock fear. “Hey, I’ve tried everything else. It was worth a shot.” He smiled.

  Eric’s anger faded away. “You’re such an asshole.”

  Reggie shrugged. “Come on home. The kids miss you.”

  Eric brought a fisted hand to his chin. “Maybe I should. What the hell am I doing here?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person. I wouldn’t have chosen this place even if I were broke.”

  “It’s not so bad. I actually like the people.”

  “You? Like someone? This I have to hear.”

  Eric described the scene he’d witnessed earlier in the week, then said, “It wasn’t an isolated case. They look out for each other. It’s nice to see.”

  Reggie nodded slowly. “Have you spoken to any of them?”

  “No. Half of them don’t even know English.”

  “What about the half that do?”

  Eric shrugged. “You know I’m not good with chitchat.”

  “That’s because you don’t like anyone, but since you seem to actually like these people, you might want to do something crazy like talk to one of them.”

  “I did meet a woman,” Eric confided. It felt good to say it aloud.

  Reggie smiled. “See, even with a scar, you’ve still got it.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “No? Then how is it?”

  “I feel different when I’m with her. I smile more. Not just because she’s pretty. She just has . . . I don’t know how to describe it . . . a presence I could get addicted to. I like her.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “No, it’s bad. I’ve already fucked it up.”

  “In one week? That was fast.”

  “I’m serious. She thinks my name is Wayne Easton and that this scar is real. I outright told her she can’t trust me. There’s no coming back from that.”

  “Yeah, that is fucked-up. Well, on to the next woman.”

  Eric punched the wall with the side of his fist. “I don’t want the next woman.”

  Reggie looked as if he were weighing options. “I bet she’d forgive you anything if she found out you’re richer than hell.”

  “I don’t want that, either,” Eric growled.

  “I know, I know. You want to be loved for you. I was just throwing it out for consideration.” Reggie cracked his knuckles in front of him. “So, to recap: you’re living in a building with people you like but don’t know, and you’ve met a woman who makes you happy but you’ve lied to her about—everything.”

  “Not everything. Just my name . . . and this.” He touched his scar.

  Reggie made a raspberry with his lips. “I’ll make you a deal: come back and see your grandmother once, and I’ll help you figure the rest of this shit out.”

  “What is up with you and Delinda all of a sudden?”

  Reggie raised and lowered one shoulder. “She loves you, and you don’t make that an easy thing to do.”

  Eric groaned. “I don’t want to hear the laundry list of what she thinks I’m doing wrong.”

  “Tell her that.”

  “I’ve tried. She doesn’t listen.”

  Reggie clapped a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “One time. Meet with her one time. Give her a chance to be different. I like to think there’s hope for everyone.”

  Eric turned to meet his friend’s gaze. “You really believe that?”

  Under pressure, Reggie faltered. “No, but she’s camped out in London and has no intention of leaving until she knows you’re okay.” He looked around the room. “Go back for a few days. Smile, play nice. All this will still be here when you get back.” He kicked the frayed chair beside him. “It’s not going anywhere.”

  Eric dreaded the idea of spending time with Delinda when he was already at a low point in his life. Visits with her were best done when he was feeling his most confident, and even then she could reduce a person’s confidence with one well-aimed criticism. If it were simply about Delinda, Eric wouldn’t go back. However, his friend had been holding her off for weeks now. It was time to go back and save Reggie from the evil queen. “Two days—tops.”

  “Great. Do you want to meet with your publicist while you’re back?”

  “Might as well.” Eric headed toward the door, with Reggie at his heels.

  “Don’t you need a few minutes to pack?”

  Eric turned and scanned the room. Just like the life he was returning to, there was nothing in it he would miss. He wondered where Sage was that evening and if she would be disappointed when he didn’t go to the coffee shop the next morning, then shook his head and walked out the door. Even if she did want to see him again, where could anything between them go? Eventually she’d realize his scar wasn’t real. He’d be forced to either lie more or tell her the truth. Neither scenario held much promise.

  Reggie tossed him the keys of his Pagani as they approached it. Eric caught them and headed to the driver’s side. He ground the gears as he pulled out, just to see if it still made Reggie wince. It did. It was good to see some things didn’t change. “So, tell me about this surprise you’re working on for me.”

  “It’s something you need to see to appreciate. I’ll give you a hint, though. Don’t drive up the main road to your house. Take Beasley Street and enter your property from the rear entrance. The wrought iron one.”

  Reggie looked more excited than Eric could remember seeing him in a long time. Whatever he’d made, Eric would pretend to love it. Obviously, it meant a lot to his friend.

  The drive to the estate was spent talking about the recent antics of Reggie’s children. Eric drove up to the back gate of his property, just as Reggie had instructed. As he approached it, the gate swung open. “Nice touch,” Eric said.

  “Hold your applause until you see the rest,” Reggie said. “Go to the old barn.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now drive into that bush next to it.”

  “You mean park in front of it?”

  “No, I mean drive into it.”

  The car was in perfect condition, but Eric was curious enough to do as Reggie said. He headed right toward the bush. Just before he connected with it, the foliage parted to reveal a tunnel that went beneath the barn.

 
A smile spread across Eric’s face. “You made me a Batcave?”

  Reggie waved for him to drive inside. “Every superhero deserves one.”

  As they drove, lights came on, illuminating their way deeper beneath the barn. Eric felt almost giddy. He couldn’t wait to see what the tunnel led to. “How did you dig this out?”

  “I didn’t have to. It was here, an old storage area. All I did was modernize it.”

  The tunnel led to a large, dimly lit space. Eric parked and hopped out to look around. To one side a well-lit, mirrored changing area revealed two wardrobes. He opened one. It was full of designer clothing, expensive shoes, and suits. He crossed to the other and laughed out loud. It held worn jeans, washed-out T-shirts, and a variety of sneakers. “What is this?”

  Reggie came to his side. “This is where your two lives meet.” He pointed to a wash station and cabinet. “You should lose that stage makeup before anyone sees you.”

  Eric’s hand flew to the scar he’d forgotten was there. It’d been so long. “Oh . . . yeah.” He looked around again. In another area of the enormous room was a car—an old, beat-up-looking, brown two-door. “Is that for me?”

  Reggie walked with him to inspect it. “Sure is.”

  “What is it?”

  “An old Ford sedan. No one wanted it the first time around. I figure it’ll be safe to park in any neighborhood. Vintage plates, so the police won’t bother you.”

  Eric ran his hand over the old paint and pulled open the driver’s door. Manual rolling windows. Worn but not torn leather seats. A radio that looked like it belonged in either a museum or a dumpster. “I love it.”

  “I knew you would.”

  Eric slid into the driver’s seat. He expected the interior to smell bad, but it didn’t. “Does it run?”

  Reggie’s chest puffed out. “Of course. It has to transport you back and forth, doesn’t it?”

  Eric started it up—it purred. He cut the engine and gripped the steering wheel with both hands, and it felt right. Even though Eric was floundering, Reggie wasn’t standing in judgment. The cave was proof of that. More than anyone in his life ever had, Reggie saw the real Eric and didn’t feel compelled to change him. Eric stepped out of the car. “Thanks, Reggie.”

  Reggie shrugged. “It wasn’t all me. Axton was asking about you. I can’t lie to my kids—you know that. When I explained where you were, he was excited that Water Bear Man had finally chosen a secret identity.”