Dreaming With My Eyes Wide Open (Hollywood Legends #2)
Read Dreaming With My Eyes Wide Open (Hollywood Legends #2) Online
Authors: Mary J. Williams
DREAMING WITH MY EYES WIDE OPEN
HOLLYWOOD LEGENDS
BOOK TWO
MARY J. WILLIAMS
© 2016 MARY J. WILLIAMS
Want to know how to motivate yourself to write a book? Have your
favorite football team lose the Super Bowl. On the last play. With an
interception. The next day I was so depressed I tuned out all media. No TV, no
internet, no newspapers — nothing. And I started to write. I’m still writing.
As you can see, a little motivation can do wonders. Football will play a big
part in my next series of books due out next year. And since I’m writing the
ending? No interceptions. Guaranteed. Happy reading everyone.
Please visit me at these sites, sign up for my newsletter or
leave a message.
http://www.maryjwilliams.net/home.html
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-J-Williams/1561851657385417?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/maryjwilliams05
https://www.pinterest.com/maryj0675/
https://instagram.com/2015romance/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5648619.Mary_J_Williams
Harper Falls Series
If I Loved You
If Tomorrow Never Comes
If You Only Knew
If I Had You (Christmas in Harper Falls)
Hollywood Legends Series
Dreaming With a Broken Heart
TO MY SISTER IVY
WITH ALL MY LOVE
NATE LANDIS NEVER thought much about the way he looked.
Women seemed to like his face. That was genetics. He was the
son of Hollywood royalty. Alone, they turned heads. Together, they dazzled. It
made sense that they would pass some of that on.
Nate took it in stride. He was strong. Healthy. His body was
trained to do what he wanted it to do, under what could only be called extreme
situations. He ate right, worked hard, and played harder.
At some point, his lifestyle would catch up with him. Age
would take care of that. Right now, he was in his prime. If he wanted to scale
a mountain, that’s what he did. Jump from a plane? A piece of cake. Race car
driving. Deep sea diving. You name it; Nate was the first one in line.
When he was three years old, his mother called him her
little daredevil. Fearless, she swore he gave her wrinkles for worrying what he
would get into next. Nate would always laugh, peering closely at Callie Flynn’s
flawless complexion. What wrinkles? In her fifties, she was, and would always
be, one of the movie industry’s great beauties. Nothing he or his brothers did
could alter that.
As Nate stepped to the edge of the cliff, he didn’t think
about the two-hundred-foot drop. He’d jumped from higher than this. It was what
he did. And he did it better than anyone else. For some reason, today he
thought about his mother.
Callie never discouraged him from pursuing danger, even
though Nate knew she wished he had chosen a safer way to make a living. She
didn’t say so, but he knew she worried about his safety. It didn’t stop him —
he seldom thought about it. Until today. As he waited for the director to
signal the camera was rolling, for the first time Nate let himself worry about
his mother’s reaction if something happened to him.
He shook off the morbid thought. Now wasn’t the time. He needed
to focus. Ninety-nine percent of the time, if something went wrong, it was due
to a loss of focus. Nate took a deep breath. He cleared his mind. Three flashes
of light. That was his signal. He squared his shoulders, coiled his body. And
jumped.
Nate Landis was a stuntman. Some might say it was his
calling. If a director needed it done big and done right, that person called
him. Nate loved his job.
He let his body relax as he sailed through the air. The
count in his head was precise. If he pulled the ripcord too soon, the shot
would be ruined. Too late, he risked ending up a pile of broken bones.
Nate planned every stunt. He worked out the timing, the
logistics, and the angles. He never let anyone perform a stunt unless he tested
it. Over and over again. He refused to rush. Anxious directors. Bottom-line
producers. Some tried to push him into cutting corners.
Few things made Nate lose his temper. His brother Garrett
claimed Nate had the longest, slowest burning fuse in history. But he had his
hot buttons. Endangering himself and his crew was one of them. Last year, a
director, trying to save time, ran a stunt when Nate was away from the set.
Poorly conceived and executed, two stuntmen went to the hospital with
second-degree burns.
Todd Winesap went to the hospital with a broken jaw and a
tarnished reputation.
It took a lot to make Nate mad. But watch out when it
happened.
Nate ran the count through his head. Eight, nine, ten. He
gave the cord a firm, steady pull. Smooth as glass, the chute opened. Even so,
he traveled at a high speed. The parachute was safety measure number one.
Number two was the large, air-filled target waiting below.
Having done this stunt hundreds of times, Nate knew what to
expect and how it should feel. And he knew when something was wrong.
The air bag, that Nate had personally supervised the
placement of, wasn’t where it was supposed to be. He didn’t have the time to
wonder how that had happened. If he didn’t act fast, he wouldn’t be around to
beat the shit out of the asshole responsible.
Grabbing the guide strings, Nate pulled a hard right with
all his considerable strength — and prayed.
HOLLYWOOD WAS AN unforgiving town with a long memory.
Drugs could be forgiven. Drunk driving. Spousal abuse. Those
things could be forgiven. In the movie industry, your worth was measured by one
thing — box office returns. Three strikes, you’re out.
Early in his career, Caleb Landis knew the meaning of
holding on by his fingertips. He was young, inexperienced, and hungry. That
meant working all the angles. No one opened any doors for a dirt-poor would-be
producer. That was fine with him. He had no problem barreling his way in. His
take no prisoners attitude earned him respect. And enemies.
Hard work. Long hours. Sacrifice. Eventually, it paid off.
Caleb’s career spanned over four decades. He had money and power. The shelves
of his office were lined with every award the industry could give him.
When a movie had the name Landis attached to it, the world
knew they were getting quality.
Sitting back, Caleb looked around the table with pride. His
family. That was his greatest accomplishment. The fame and money meant nothing
compared to the joy of knowing the most important people in the world
surrounded him. The people he loved. The people who loved him.
It all started and ended with his Callie.
Screen goddess to the world. To him, protector of his heart.
He had no doubt the first time he saw her. He knew she was
the woman he wanted to spend his life with. She was the only woman he would
ever love. Their life hadn’t been the fairy tale some people made it out to be.
They had their ups and downs. But through it all, one thing never changed.
Their unshakable love.
His beautiful wife had given him four strong, healthy sons.
Men a father could be proud of.
Wyatt was the oldest. Like Caleb, a producer. The difference
was
he
trusted his gut. If a project felt right, he fought until he got
it made. Wyatt was a thinker. His first concern was the bottom line. They had
squared off more than once about artistry versus the almighty dollar.
The end was always the same. He and Wyatt were different
enough that butting heads was inevitable. They had enough similarities to put
those differences aside. The most important thing was the movie. Together they
made art — and money.
Caleb’s gaze moved to the other side of the table. The laugh
he heard was a deeper version of his sweet Callie’s. It made him smile. Colton.
The youngest of his four boys. He was the only one to follow his mother’s lead,
stepping in front of the camera to make his mark. And what a mark it was going
to be.
Colt had a face the camera loved. The first offer to put him
in the movies came when he was only a year old. The offers kept coming. Callie
didn’t want any of her sons to be
child stars
. Caleb agreed.
Growing up was hard enough. In Beverly Hills, the
temptations were magnified. Caleb and Callie did their best to give their
children as normal a childhood as possible. Family dinners. Game night.
Backyard barbecues. If that childhood included trips to Cannes and vacations on
private yachts, so what? This was their version of normal. It wasn’t perfect.
But then, what was?
Colton was one of the biggest movie stars in the world. In
public, that meant screaming fans and preferential treatment. At dinner with
his family, he was expected to set the table and dry the dishes. It was true
when he was ten. It was true now, even if his last movie
did
break box
office records.
Then there was Garrett. Caleb sat back smiling when he heard
his middle son complaining to his mother.
“What is the world coming to when a man’s family takes sides
against him?”
“First, Jade is your family. And ours.” Callie patted Jade’s
hand. “Second. She’s right. You’re wrong. End of discussion.”
“Hey.” Garrett looked at the two women. His mother on his
right. The love of his life on his left. There was no rock. No hard place. With
a snap of his fingers, there would be a thousand men lined up to take his
place. He was no fool. He knew he had it good. “I give up,” he said, wisely
conceding the point.
Dazzled by Jade’s smile, Garrett melted. He tucked a lock of
her long, silky red hair behind her ear. The unconsciously intimate gesture had
his parents smiling with approval.
“A wise decision, son.” Caleb nodded at Garrett with a wink.
“When you realize your lady is the brains in the relationship, the sailing will
be much smoother.”
“Where are you on
Exile
?”
Garrett and Jade were just back from Vancouver where he had
finished principal shooting on his current film. His last project had garnered
him an Oscar nomination for best director. Caleb believed this one would win
his son the statue.
“I’m in the studio next week. The soundtrack needs some
tweaking, but the composer assures me it will be ready.”
“It better be,” Wyatt added. “The Los Angeles Philharmonic
doesn’t come cheap. You have them for a week. That’s all the budget will allow.
After that, I’ll take it out of your salary.”
“It’s my own fault for working with family,” Garrett sighed.
“I could knock any other producer on his ass if he talked to me like that.
Mommy would have a fit if I bruised her baby’s face.”
“Jade, you’re marrying an idiot.”
“Pardon my French in advance, Mom.” Garrett gave Wyatt the
finger, and then added, “Fuck you, Wyatt.”
“Nice mouth, brother. You might think about washing it out
with soap before kissing your woman.” Out of Callie’s sight, Wyatt flipped
Garrett the bird.
“I just brushed. How about kissing me instead?”
“Nate!”
Callie was across the room in a flash. Instead of jumping
into his arms, as was her custom, she held back. She knew the doctor said
Nate’s ribs were healed, but she was his mother. The thought of causing him the
slightest pain was unthinkable.
“Where’s your sling?”
“Gone for good. Thank God.”
Nate’s left arm was still in a cast. With little effort, he
used his right to swing Callie in a circle. The comforting scent of roses and
vanilla drifted around him. As always, it took him back to his childhood when
she would tuck him in at night. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed
deeply.
Mother. Love. Safety. From the time he was born, she had
steered him with a gentle yet firm hand. There was a fine line between
controlling and supportive. Callie Flynn showed her sons by example that a
woman could thrill the world with her acting and still be the best mother
anyone could ask for. Nate affectionately kissed the top of her head. What
would he have done without this woman?
“We didn’t think you were going to make it.” Callie took his
good hand, leading him to the table. “Sit. I’ll get you a plate. I swear, since
the accident you’ve wasted away to nothing.”
Colt snorted in disbelief. “How can you tell? The man is a
freaking brick wall.”
“Callie’s right.” Jade smiled at Nate. “You look thinner.”
“I knew the woman couldn’t keep her eyes off me. Tell me
you’ve finally realized you picked the wrong brother.”
“One more word and I’ll forget you’re my twin.” Garrett
turned to Jade. “I always felt sorry for him. I got the looks, the brains, and
the charm. And Nate got the…? What did Nate get?”
“The ability to kick your ass?” Nate flexed his impressive
biceps. “And more women than even Colton could handle.”
“Hey,” Colt interjected. “That’s my reputation as a
man-whore you’re besmirching. What would the tabloids say if word got out that
my brother was getting more women than I was?”
“Don’t listen to him, Colt.” Garrett loved jabbing at his
twin. Just as Nate loved returning the favor. The sport never grew old. “He
overcompensated for his shortcomings by living in the gym. I suppose some women
find brawn over brains attractive.”
“More than a few.”
“Enough.” Callie chuckled. She had heard this banter for
years. “You,” she said to Nate, “stop talking — eat. And you,” she looked at
Garrett. “Leave your brother in peace for five minutes.”
Thanking her with a smile, Nate took the plate from his
mother. It overflowed with roast beef, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, all
drowned in rich, brown gravy. Adding three fresh baked rolls from the basket on
the table, Nate was a happy man.
The truth was, since the accident on the movie set last
month, he hadn’t been himself. It would be different if he could work. Keeping
busy was the best way to calm his mind and body. Unfortunately, the injuries he
had sustained kept him sidelined.
Too much time on his hands. Too much time to think about
what had gone wrong. The botched stunt could have ended in tragedy. Thanks to
his quick reflexes, physical strength, and determination not to end up in a
heap of mangled bones, Nate walked away with a few cracked ribs and a broken
arm. The only reason he stayed the night in the hospital was to appease his
mother. The doctor assured her Nate didn’t have a concussion. Callie didn’t
want to take any chances. One night of observation was a small price to pay for
his mother’s peace of mind.
It didn’t hurt that his nurse was a curvy brunette with
warm, soft hands.
“I know that smile.” Wyatt shook his head. “Which conquest
are you thinking about now?”
“You wouldn’t give me such a hard time if you were getting
laid more often.” Remembering where he was, Nate gave his mother a repentant
grin. “Sorry.”
“Your brother’s love life is his own business,” Callie said
firmly.
“Thank you.” Wyatt gave Nate a
take that
glare.
“Though…”
“Ah, crap.” Wyatt’s head fell forward, his chin hitting his
chest.
“Come on, Wyatt,” Garrett laughed with delight. “Every man
lives to have his mother discuss his sex life.”
“There will be no discussion,” Callie assured her oldest.
“I’m just saying. Once you’ve been sexually active, going cold turkey isn’t
healthy for the mind or body.”
“Thanks for not talking about it,” Wyatt mumbled.
“I have a friend whose daughter would be perfect.”
“Callie,”
Everyone at the table recognized that tone in Caleb’s voice.
The boys had heard it often when growing up. Better than a raised hand, it had
the ability to keep them on the straight and narrow. He rarely used that deep,
in charge, producer’s voice with his wife. When he did, she knew she crossed
the line into an area he didn’t approve of. Sometimes she listened; sometimes
she barreled ahead. Today, she silently conceded that her husband was right.
“Fine.”
Callie patted Wyatt’s hand. Looking deep into his eyes, she
saw the lingering pain that he never seemed to completely shake. A bad marriage
that ended in his wife’s death wasn’t something he could easily get over.
Questions about whether the car crash had been accidental or deliberate still
lingered. He carried around the guilt even though the marriage had ended well
before Stephanie’s death.
Nate decided it was time to throw his big brother a
lifeline. They gave each other a ton of grief, but when it came down to it, the
four of them were the other’s best friends.
“I finally tracked down the witness.”
“What?” Callie’s expressive eyes widened. “When? Why didn’t
you say something sooner? What did he say?”
“Breathe, Mom.”
Nate took a bite of potato. Mmm. Food always tasted better
at his mother’s table surrounded by family. Nate was not a solitary person by
nature. Since the accident, he had been spending too much time alone. Between
recovering and trying to figure out what went wrong, there hadn’t been a lot of
time to be social. It was time to change that.
“Well?” Callie demanded.
“Brett Walcott.”
“Right,” Garrett nodded. “The assistant to an assistant. He
left word with you that he saw something. Then he disappeared.”
“I had that stunt set up exactly right. Between the time it
took to get to the top of the cliff and when I jumped, something happened.”
“It had to be during the delay.” Wyatt’s people had
investigated. Right after Nate left the set, a fire broke out in one of the
trailers. It turned out to be minor and luckily, no one was hurt, but it had
the entire crew scrambling for almost an hour.
Nate had his own helpers whose job it was to keep the status
quo on all equipment until the stunt was finished. They admitted to leaving the
airbag unattended while they helped with the fire. As a result, someone had
time to make a small puncture at the base of the bag.
The leak was slow but effective. As Nate approached from
above, it appeared the bag had been moved. In reality, the loss of air pressure
gave it that appearance. If Nate hadn’t been able to muscle his chute and land
as close to the center as possible, chances were, he wouldn’t have been here to
tell the tale. The bounce he took that landed him on the hard ground was bad,
resulting in relatively minor injuries. His quick reflexes and some luck had
spoiled someone’s deadly plans.
Finding a witness had been almost impossible. Nate trusted
his crew. They were lured away like everyone else. The only person willing to
talk called Nate the day after he left the hospital.
Brett Walcott was so low on the movie set ladder that Nate
didn’t recognize his name. Assistant was pushing it. He was a gopher. He
fetched coffee, jackets, lip balm. Whatever was needed, he was the man who made
the run. It wasn’t a well-paying job.
So when Brett saw his opportunity, he took it. He claimed to
know who punctured the bag, and was willing to share the information with Nate.
For a price.
Nate had been around. He knew the drill. Brett agreed to
meet him the next day. Nate agreed to bring twenty thousand dollars. It was a
small price to pay; he would have doled out twice that amount to discover who
wanted him dead.
With Garrett along for backup, Nate drove to the drop-off
spot in East Los Angeles. It was too much like something out of a bad action
flick for Nate’s taste, but he wasn’t in a position to complain.