Malibu Betrayals (12 page)

The kick of it was, when you heard something long enough it began to stick. She’d just begun to build her professional esteem back up when Martin and Gage had delivered the news this morning.

She put too much stock in Gage’s opinion of her abilities. It stunk of the same old game with Ethan. She hated herself for such weakness. The two men were nothing alike. It certainly wasn’t fair to Gage.

Her husband was dead, which did not make him a martyr or a good person. She needed to knock it off. The fact it was so difficult to do so gnawed at her. What kept her tied to a man who never loved her in the first place?

She wasn’t responsible for his death.

She wasn’t.

But she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d known she’d been ready to leave.

Swimming between a rock and a pier, she picked up her pace, racing against her thoughts. She wished it were a race she could win.

After a few more laps, she dragged herself from the water and lowered to the edge, a towel slung about her shoulders, knees drawn up, arms wrapped tight, the point of her chin rested on her kneecap as she scanned the horizon.

“How long are you planning to hide?” Gage asked as he lowered next to her. Warmth radiated from him and spread through her, and she sighed.

She should have been surprised to see him, but she wasn’t. It was as though he had a second sense where she was concerned.

She looked up and down the shore, thankful to find it empty. “You shouldn’t be out here. Martin’s going to kill you.”

“Please, they have plenty to do before I get back. If I were there right now, I’d be sitting in my trailer. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I wasn’t hiding. I was swimming. How’d you know I’d be here?” She peeked at him.

“It’s your favorite thinking spot.”

She dipped her chin in confirmation. “Yes, but how did you know that?”

Gage shook his head, glanced out over the blue waters, and then back to hold her gaze. “Don’t you get it yet?”

Her chest tightened. She didn’t want to get it; she was afraid to look too close. He terrified her, his intensity, his openness. The guaranteed pain when they parted ways.

She’d poured all of herself into her relationship with Ethan until only a shell of her former self remained. Crawling back out of that hell had been difficult.
Was
difficult.

Gage stared out at the ocean. Sam stared at Gage. In profile, the sun shone through the light of his eyes, and she couldn’t look away from the hard line of his jaw. She knew frustration burned at him, hurt him, but she couldn’t help that.

He turned his head and locked eyes with her. Something passed over his face she couldn’t quite place.

“I’m a descendant of an English playwright, Thomas Dekker,” Sam said, her voice just loud enough to hear over the crashing waves.

“I know. You told me.”

He understood without trying. A phenomenon that should comfort her. She dipped her chin. “It’s in my blood.”

Gage leaned back on his arms, his shirt pulled tight over his well-muscled chest. He nodded. “I get that. Martin gets that.”

“But I don’t always get it.” She faltered, unable to find the words to explain. Sam gathered her hair and twisted it into a knot at the back of her neck. “What I mean is writing is personal. Every word I put out there is a part of me. And writing in Hollywood? Hell, it’s excruciating. I’ve worked hard to prove myself. So, this morning—”

Gage shot her a look. “You don’t think I get that? Writing’s a lot like acting that way. There’s no tougher way to put yourself out there than being in front of a camera.”

“You’re right. Of course you’d get it. But you have a family that has supported you, built you up.”

“And you don’t?” he snapped, his voice sharp.

Sam could feel the tension radiating from him. So much for him being understanding. She had the strongest urge to go inside and leave his ass on the beach. “Are you trying to fight with me?”

He pushed forward and sat with his hands slung over his pulled-up knees. “I’m trying to push you out of your victim role, Sam. You’ve been there so long, I don’t think you know how to get out. I’ve met your family. You have all the support you could ever want and more.”

“Look, Mr. ‘I’ve got the answers to everything,’ yes. My family supported me. But I was married and my husband didn’t.” She stood and paced in front of him. Then planting her feet to face him, she swung her arms out wide. “I don’t know one time that the man didn’t tell me I was chasing a dream I had no business chasing.”

“And you believed him?”

Frustration made her want to scream. He was such a blockhead. “No! Yes! Why can’t you understand?” she yelled. She straightened and lowered her arms, wrapping them around her waist.

“It’s over.”

She blinked and shook her head. Exhaustion weighed her down and exasperation clogged her throat. “What?”

Gage rose to his feet and approached her. She pulled away from his grasp, but he grabbed hold and held her steady. “You are not a victim anymore. You were, no question, and I could kill the man for it, but you’re not anymore. Sometimes, though, you still act like one. I want you to see you’re a survivor.”

She pulled away.

He didn’t try to touch her again. “Look, I know you’re afraid; this business is terrifying, I get it. You have an amazing talent, but it won’t matter if you don’t believe it. Believe it, Sam, because then you win. I’m not saying it’s easy. But you are strong. Stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes. She was so tired. Tired of her doubt, of fighting to find herself, dealing with the masses of Tinsel Town, and now harassment. Why was she fighting? She
was
strong.

She’d been so afraid of failing for so long, she didn’t remember how it felt not to be. It was about time she learned. Squaring her shoulders, Sam lifted her chin. Whoever was screwing with her would have to try harder.

She walked back and stood in front of Gage. Staring into the endless depths of his eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry.” Before he could answer, she went up on tiptoes, leaned into him, and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

Gage lowered to the sand, and she sat next to him, digging her toes into the sand. “So, how
did
you know this was my thinking spot?” Sam resisted him when he tried to tuck her into his side. She yearned to sink into the steady, strong beat of his heart, but that wasn’t her place.

He blew out a breath, flexing his fingers. “Don’t you remember?” He dipped his head to look into her face. “The night we met.”

They’d shared so much. Heads bent close, whispering a secret for a secret, their tumblers littering the bar counter with nothing but melted ice and cherry stems. She’d gotten so lost in his unwavering gaze that by the time she looked around, they’d been the only people left, save for the bartender. It had changed her that night—being listened to, being heard. She’d opened up more to Gage than she did to her own family.

It had been the first time in a long time she’d felt as if she mattered.

He’d remembered.

The ocean sounds broke through her memories, and Gage still tried to hold her by the water’s edge. Wasn’t that just like him?

She stepped out of his arms. He was getting too close, crossing over their line of light and easy. Finding a way to reestablish what they had as a fling was necessary for the good of both of them. And she needed to be the one to do it.

If he wasn’t going to be more careful not to get hurt, she’d have to.

Someone needed to save Gage from himself.

Chapter Twelve

Sam and Gage pulled into the driveway of the set and parked the car. With a quick glance outside, he turned toward her and snaked his hand behind her head. He held her gaze for a heartbeat and then kissed her, a gentle touch, unhurried, just the lightest caress of his lips against hers. He slid the tips of his fingers down her cheek and then dropped his hand to hers, lacing his fingers between her own.

Her breath hitched and a warmth washed over her chest. Pressing her lips firmly against his, she pulled back and quirked her brow. “You sure do know how to help a girl cheer up.”

He studied her a moment, and then as if resigned to whatever conclusions he’d come to, leaned back and looked out the front window. “Go on in. Martin should be ready for us by now, and he may need to go over your actual script changes with you. I’m going to go talk to security.”

Guilt settled on top of her shoulders. She didn’t mean to hurt him, but she needed to hold him at a safe distance. Maybe distance, actual, physical distance was what she needed to keep her head straight.

Sam got out and closed the door. Film sets buzzed with activity. So many people, and any one of them could be responsible for screwing with her. The persistent and annoying question of the year was why.

She listed off everyone she knew well and those she’d just met, and couldn’t come up with a single reason for any of them to put such energy into her.

Getting her to leave the film or something to do with Gage were the only solid motivations she could come up with.

Well, they’d have to work a lot harder. She wasn’t going anywhere. Though she had no illusions about a future with Gage, she’d be damned if someone would have a say in her writing. Her fear wouldn’t go away all at once, but half the battle was knowing what she fought against, and now that she knew, she’d fight to win.

Pulling her shoulders back, she pasted a smile to her face.

Show time.

“Hey, Martin.” She forced a bounce in her step as she waved to her mentor. With a breezy smile, she lowered into the chair next to the older man. “How’s the script look? Ready to go?”

Martin looked up with worry. “You’re okay?”

Sam stretched her smile wider. “Absolutely.” Under her breath she added, “I’m really pissed, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let whoever’s doing this know it.”

“Good, good.” He blew out a breath.

She stared at him. “What’s wrong?”

Furrowing his brow, he slipped a piece of paper in her hand. “We need to be more careful. I don’t want you to worry. We’re going to take care of this.”

“What?” She turned the paper over in her hand, unfolding it until it lay flat on her thigh.

“It was left on your desk.”

Keep swimming alone. You’ll only make my job easier.

Cold fear slithered up her spine. “When did you find this?” she whispered.

“Just a few minutes ago. I already informed security, and I’ll talk to Gage.”

Her mind couldn’t process the idea someone had watched her swimming, had been waiting for her. Her shoulders tightened down in a vice. Had they seen Gage? Fuck. Her eyes smarted behind tears, and she blinked them back.

“We need to call the police.” Martin pulled out his phone.

Sam placed her hand over his. “The last thing you need is this to go to the press during one of your films, and with Gage and me both working on the set? It’ll be an Ethan Evans nightmare all over again. I can’t take that, and I don’t want it for you.” She sat back. “There has to be another way.”

He slid his phone into his pocket and balanced the screenplay on his lap. “I understand—”

“I just can’t, Martin.”

He put his hands up. “I’ve spoken with security. I want someone with you at all times.”

Gage walked up, a determined look in his eye. “My thoughts exactly.”

She looked between the two men and shook her head. “No.”

“Don’t argue. I’ve already arranged it,” Martin said.

“Absolutely not.” Sam spoke low through gritted teeth. “I will not have some stranger tracking me. Besides, that will only give satisfaction to whoever is pulling these little pathetic pranks.”

Gage drew his brows together. “
Pathetic little pranks?
Are you serious? Someone is threatening you.”

Sam waved his words away. “Fine, hire more security on set, but have you seen yourself lately? You’re more than capable of taking care of me.”

An intense light lit Gage’s eyes, and Martin grinned. Sam realized too late what she’d implied. She opened her mouth to clarify.

“Then it’s settled. Gage, can she stay with you until we get a handle on this?”

Sam snapped her mouth shut and then tried a logical approach. “That is not necessary. Besides, there’s no way he can do that with his schedule.”

“Actually, I can. I’ve been working with Martin on directing while working on the film to break into an opportunity that came up. The next project won’t need me for a few weeks. Besides my training and coming to the set, I’ve been lying low, waiting for the right time to announce my shift into directing.”

That’s right; he wanted to direct. She hadn’t realized how serious he was about it, thinking it was more of something he was just playing at, trying out.
Light and easy, remember?
He’d had no reason to discuss it with her.

The director stood and shared a passing glance with Gage before Sam gathered the rest of her thoughts. “Not only is it necessary, it’s mandatory. Unless you’d rather I call your father?”

The hilarity of the situation choked her. “Are you kidding me? You’d call my father? I’m not twelve.”

Martin placed his hand on her cheek. “No, but you are just as stubborn as when you were. To be honest, I’d feel better if you did tell your parents. Stay with them. Let them take care of you. Your father would be welcome to come to the set with you. I’d love to get Frank on set…We’ll get him a pass—”

Abject horror turned her stomach. Her father on set? Oh, hell no. “What kind of options are those? He’d be here with my brother in a second, and then I’d have
no
peace.”

Martin actually looked disappointed.

“If you want my dad on set, invite him to a film I’m not working on, besides—”

“Then what solution do you have, Sam? You won’t let me call the police. You can’t stay alone. I’m scared for you, and I don’t like the feeling one bit. If anything ever happened to you, Frank would—”

“Okay, okay.” She threw her hands up to get him to slow down the guilt trip. There was no way she’d put her sister in any danger, and her brother was already a no, since he’d run to their dad before she’d finished explaining. Staying with Raquel and Martin would be exhausting. They loved her too much to keep their noses out of her business, and besides, last she heard their youngest, Liam, was staying with them, something about work in his condo. Damn it.

It would be fine. She could stay with Gage. It would only be a few hours of the day, since they burned candles at both ends working anyway. She could maintain her distance, keep everything light and fun.

“We’ll hire additional security to watch you on the set and with errands, so you won’t need Gage twenty-four seven.”

She watched the older man walk away, then swung around to face Gage. “You have to agree this is ridiculous.”

Gage faced her with his arms crossed at his chest. “It’s a sound idea, and honestly, I feel better having you with me than someone else.”

She threw her hands in the air. “You men are all the same.”

“Stay close.” He pointed to a chair next to the producer and waited for her to nod before joining the crew.

“That’s the exact opposite of what I need to do,” Sam whispered, as she sunk into the chair. She grabbed her screenplay and pretended to look through the notes Martin left for her. But she couldn’t see anything but trouble. Her hands went numb, and she felt light headed. She’d needed distance from Gage to slow things down, and now she was moving in with him. A small kernel of doubt seeped into her well-laid plans for distance, and her chest squeezed in panic.

That evening, Sam dropped her bag on the floor near the pantry wall, grumbling. “I still think this is over the top.”

“Just think of it as a slumber party. Two friends hanging out. Besides, Anita is a spectacular cook.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I am not having your house cleaner cook for me.”

“She gets paid to do it,” Gage said, twisting his lips in offense, but the emotion didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sam waved away his posturing and picked up her bag. “Can you show me to the guest room?”

Gages stilled. “Guest room?”

She stepped toward him, willing him to understand. “You know this is still just a fling, right?”

He pressed his lips together with a nod. “A fling, yeah, I know. You mean the thing where we’re sleeping together but nothing else.”

She looked down at her feet and then back to him on a shaky, indrawn breath. “I know we’ve been getting closer, and you have to know how much I appreciate your friendship.”

He flinched, and her heart cried out to give him what he wanted, but that would only destroy them both in the end, and she couldn’t let that happen.
Because
he meant so much. She reached for him and then let her hand drop back to her side. She couldn’t stand the irony of trying to comfort him from the pain she’d caused. Forcing herself to finish, she blinked rapidly. “But it has to be physical only. I can’t afford to do that kind of damage to myself again. Or to you.” She ended on a whisper, hoping he’d heard her, not sure she could say the words a second time.

Gage scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed.

Sam changed her bag from one hand to the other, tilting her head. “I’m going to be staying here with you, and we see each other on set almost every day. On top of that, you’ve spent time with my family. This is really cozy for two people who aren’t actually building a relationship. I just want to make sure we keep things in perspective. I’m trying to be smart here, trying to make sure we don’t get hurt.”

He palmed their two sets of keys that had been sitting together on the counter, lost in thought. Finally, he tossed one set of keys to her and placed the other in a bowl at the end of the counter. “Of course you are.” Watching her for what seemed like an eternity, he finally gave in and reached out for her hand. He gathered her in, his heat, his scent, enveloping her at once, and he hovered his lips over hers.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping it physical.”

Sam closed her eyes. It wasn’t as if she could see anyway, the feel of his mouth on hers was blinding.

This was going to be harder than she thought.