Red Carpet Romance (6 page)

“Max! You’re impossible!” She
shrugged her shoulders. “You only hear what you want to hear. I give up.”

He reached for her arm. “Don’t give
up on me. Everyone else has. Please.”

“You need a crack in the head with a
baseball bat! Stop being so stubborn. Ask Mike what his plan is and then
listen...really listen.”

Max nodded slowly. “I know what
you’re saying is right.”

“So try.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try.” He nodded.

“I expect a report, too.” She shot
him a stern look.

Max held up his hands. “Okay, okay.”

“No lies, either. No…embellishing. I
want the straight story.” She finished her coffee.

“You’re a tough broad, know that?”
He grinned, wiping his hands on a napkin.

“Damn right!”
Tough as a marshmallow.
She feigned her sternest look, but all it
did was make Max chuckle.

“Go play ball already.” Max took the
stroller and moved the baby closer to him. Susanna picked up the ball and
headed for the court.

After her workout, she returned to
the apartment, put the sleeping child in the crib, and took a shower. A loud
crash coming from the living room grabbed her attention. Throwing on a tank top
and shorts, she went to investigate. She found Quinn sweeping up pieces of
broken glass. He looked sheepish. She retrieved a couple of wet paper towels
from the kitchen.

“What happened?” She asked, bending
down to help him clean up.

“Nothing, nothing…don’t need
ashtrays anymore anyway.” He didn’t meet her gaze.

“Oh? Looks like something to me.”
She stared at him.

“I lost it. That’s all.”

“Lost what?” She asked, feigning
ignorance.

He stopped to glare at her. “My
temper. What else?”

“I see.” She whispered, nodding her
head. “Wanna tell me why?”

“No!” He continued to sweep as she
lined up the dustpan.

“Come on. You know you want to,” she
urged.

“Every producer or director I talk
to loves the story of Jaden’s book, but none of them think I can play the part.
I’ve talk to three studios and been shot down every time. One actually tried to
get the name of the author and book from me. Hey, I’m not stupid. I’m not
giving this away.”

“Why can’t you play the part?” She
carried the dustpan into the kitchen.

“I can. It’s not an action role but
a romantic lead.” He followed her.

“You can play that part just fine.
I’ll vouch for you,” she snickered.

He returned to the living room and
bent down to examine the floor in silence, turning a cold shoulder to her.

“What? What did I say?” She
shrugged.

“This is serious.”

“Is it? Don’t you have a great life
playing your action hero and raking in a ton of money?”

“You don’t get it. Never will,” he
sniffed.

His attitude got to her. “What do
you mean?” Anger flushed her face.

He threw the few large shards of
glass he found under a chair in the trash and returned. “I love Joe Martin.
It’s a great role, but I’m more than that. I’ve got maybe two more pictures
with Joe Martin, and that’s it. I want to branch out. Now I’m typecast and will
never get to play something more challenging.”

“But you
are
Joe Martin.”

“I’m really a carpenter. That’s what
I started out as.”

“How did you get to here from
there?” She sank down onto the sofa.

“I was an apprentice to Gavin, a
high school friend. A quick job building sets opened up at the Pine Grove
Playhouse, and he recommended me.”

“You built sets?”

“Yeah. Loved being in the
theater…around theater people.”

“So? What happened?” She sat back
and crossed her legs.

“A bit player got sick…the director
liked the way I looked. Said I was right for the part. I was recruited. And it
was love. I got lucky playing a few good roles there when I was discovered by a
Hollywood producer. Rest is history.”

“And now?”

“I love acting, even more than
carpentry. I want to do it forever. But I can’t as Joe Martin. I need to grow.”

He turned and sauntered over to the
terrace door. Susanna pushed to her feet to follow him, then put her hand on
his arm. “If we go out there, I can’t hear Junior when he wakes up.”

“What does it matter? You don’t
understand. Nobody does. Correction—Chaz gets it.” He grabbed the knob.

She closed her fingers around his
biceps and tugged him backward. “Try me.”

He turned to look at her before
heading for the sofa. Susanna followed, tucking one leg underneath her as she
plopped down next to him.

“Working with Gavin in the off
season and acting all summer was great. Chaz and I met at that summer
playhouse.”

“Sounds like a nice life.”

“It was…until I got dumped into my
first Joe Martin flick. My whole life changed.”

“That was good, right?” She noticed
the small lines at his eyes and his knitted brow.

“No complaints. But my career will
end with Joe Martin if I don’t branch out. I could do Joe in my sleep. The
challenge is gone.”

“So you want something to stretch
you.”

“I want to see if I can really act,”
he said in a quiet voice. “No one will give me the chance. They say audiences
won’t believe me as a blind, romantic lead. They only want to see me as Joe
Martin, action hero.”

Susanna put her hand on his shoulder.
“I think you can act. I know you can act.”

He tossed her a rueful grin.
“Thanks. Now I just have to convince myself, then a producer.”

“So this is all about you proving
something to yourself?” She cocked her head.

“And surviving in this cut-throat
business. You’re only as good as your last performance.” He looked down at his
hands.

“I believe in you. I love the Joe
Martin movies.” She touched his cheek.

He leaned over and planted a sweet
kiss on her lips. “Not making a pass, honest.” He held up his hands. She
laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now if I could get a studio to
agree with you…”

“Life would be perfect…except for
deserting your son.”
Don’t forget who he
is.

“I’m not like that.” He raised his
gaze to meet her stare.

“And you don’t want to get me into
bed?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I didn’t say that. I’m human…and
you’re…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Irresistible.
So you said, sort of. Maybe nearby, easy prey?”

“Forget it,” he said, pushing to his
feet. “You’ve made up your mind about me. There’s nothing I can do. I have some
calls to make.” Quinn strode into his room and slammed the door.

Nice
way to make him feel better. Jerk!
Before a plan to cheer up Quinn hatched
in her head, Junior began to wail. She glanced at her watch.
Just time enough for an afternoon walk and
workout.
Susanna changed the baby, gave him a bottle, and packed him into
the stroller.

Quinn was still in his bedroom when
she approached the door. She could hear his voice get louder as he yelled at
someone on the phone.
Glad it’s not me.
As
she headed out the door, his dilemma preyed on her mind. She couldn’t let it
go.
It’s not fair he doesn’t get a chance
at a different role. Even if he is a lousy father.

A ding notified her that a text had
arrived. She checked it in the elevator.
Max
is back in the park again.
She smiled.
Now
there’s a good, if misguided, father.

When she reached Riverside Park, Max
was on the bench, waiting for her. He waved, and though she tried to smile,
Quinn’s unhappiness weighed heavily on her.
I
wasn’t much help, was I? Wasn’t too sympathetic, either. He’s been so nice.

“Good news, good news,” Max chirped.

“That’s nice,” Susanna murmured,
preoccupied.

“What’s with you?” Max knitted his
brows. “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. You first,” she said, snapping
out of her reverie.

“You were right about Mike. I told
him it was okay with me that he go to art school. I even offered to foot the
bill. He was thrilled. I haven’t seen him that happy in a long time. He even
hugged me.” The older man wore a shy smile.

She grabbed his forearm. “That’s
great, Max! Are you happy?”

He nodded slowly. “Hell, he may
never be able to earn a living, but at least he’s speaking to me again. We had
a great dinner and I’m…well, relieved is the best word, I guess. Thank you.” He
leaned over and planted a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Now what’s up with you?” He
turned his probing, dark eyes on her.

“Oh, it’s Quinn.”

“Quinn Roberts, your boss?”

She nodded.

“What? He made a pass at you? Do I
have to beat him up?” Max made a fist.

She laughed. “Nothing like that.
Thanks, Max. He’s got a dilemma. He’s found a book, a truly great book, he
says. And he’s shopping it around Hollywood, trying to get a studio interested
in it because he wants to play the lead.”

“What’s the problem? He’s a winner.
His movies bring in millions.”

She turned to face Max, propping
Junior into an upright position on her lap so the baby could look around. “No
studio will give him the part. They say he’s Joe Martin, and no one will
believe him as a blind man in a romantic lead.”

“Who wrote the book?”

“Jaden Benedict. It’s called
BLIND LOVE.”
She opened a small bottle
of apple juice.

“She’s a bestselling author.”

“So? What makes them think he can’t
do it?”

“What if the studios are right?” Max
raised his eyebrows.

“Why won’t they give him a chance to
find out?”

“It’s too expensive to make a movie
on a whim, a
what if.
A big gamble.
They want a sure thing, like Joe Martin.” Max crossed his legs.

“Don’t they owe him something?” She
wiped Junior’s chin.

“Nope. Business doesn’t work like
that. They don’t give a damn about him. Just about what he can earn for
them…provide bonuses.”

“How unfair!” Her face clouded with
anger.

Max chucked her under the chin. “The
world is not a fair place, sweetheart. Go. Work it out on the court.” Susanna
picked up her basketball while Max turned the stroller so Junior could watch
her. She bounced the ball, switching her focus to her game. Each lay-up shot
was with purpose. Each hook shot was to defeat a producer.

Even as she ran, jumped, and shot,
her mind was muddled. She couldn’t reconcile the two faces of Quinn—the caring,
sensitive, would-be lover and the cool father, remaining aloof from his son.
Which one is real?

Preoccupation destroyed her
concentration. She tripped and fell, ripping a gash in her leg on a jagged edge
of blacktop. Blood oozed from the cut as she limped off the court. Max stood
up. “What happened? Are you hurt?” He drew a handkerchief out of his pocket and
wrapped it around her injury.

“I’m getting blood all over your—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got
dozens of these. Let’s get you home.”

Max pushed Junior’s stroller as he
and Susanna left the park. Since there were no empty cabs available, he
accompanied her all the way back to The Wellington Arms. The pain increased the
more she walked. Her leg muscle cramped and tried to stiffen, but she forced
herself to keep going. Once at the apartment, Max turned her over to Stokes,
who helped her and Junior into the elevator.

“Sorry, miss. I’d go with you, but
I’m not supposed to leave my post.”

“No problem. I can get upstairs by
myself. Max is just overprotective.”

The elevator took her to the
twenty-first floor in the blink of an eye. She limped down the hall and opened
the door quietly, for Junior had fallen asleep.

“It’s about time! I had no idea
where you went. You’re…you’re hurt?” His gaze went immediately to the
blood-soaked handkerchief tied around her knee. His tone changed from anger to
worry instantly as he took command of the stroller. “Stay here. Sit.”

He indicated a straight-backed chair
then wheeled the buggy to the hall. To her amazement, he picked up the sleeping
baby perfectly and took him into the bedroom.
Huh! He does know how to handle an infant.

When Quinn returned to the living
room, his hands juggled a mountain of first aid supplies. He sat down facing
Susanna. First, he picked her foot up and rested her calf on his lap. Then he
wiped the dirt out of her cut with a wet, soapy gauze pad. She squirmed and
made a fist as pain traveled up her body.

“I’m sorry, trying not to hurt you. I
forgot about that broken asphalt. I used to play down there. Regular game on
Wednesdays.”

Once he’d cleaned the wound, Quinn
picked up the
Neosporin
and applied a
liberal amount to the gash. Lastly, he bound the injury with gauze and taped
it. “There. That should do it. How does it feel?”

“Still sore, but much better,
thanks.” She raised her gaze to meet his.

After throwing the soiled gauze in
the trash, he smiled at her and gathered up the supplies. She rested her hand
on his arm. “Hey, I’m sorry if I was…harsh before. I think it stinks the
studios won’t give you a chance.”

“I haven’t given up yet. There are
more people to talk to. We’re going to L.A. for a week on Friday. I’ve set up a
couple of meetings out there.”

“We are?” Her eyes widened.

“You and Junior are coming with me.”

“Why?”

“I have a premiere to attend and a couple of interviews
to do. I can’t leave you here. What if something happens? You might need me,”
he said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “Fran? Yeah. Any news?” He
continued talking as he walked toward the terrace.

Chapter Four

Because they were VIP’s traveling
with a baby in first class, Susanna and Quinn got to board before everyone
else. They settled into their seats and sat back.