Hollywood Scandal (5 page)

A startled laugh from Calla surprised her as much as it did him, given her blush and wide eyes. No one should be that surprised by a laugh. Fun. She needed to have more fun.

“I have an idea,” he said as he moved around the kitchen. He liked having her here in his home, in his space. She fit.

“Please,” she said, looking ridiculously relieved. “Anything.”

“My grandmother loves cupcakes.”

“Oh, I love them, too. I could go to Colin’s Cupcakes,” Calla said. “He’s a baker with a reality TV show. I’ve watched it a few times. Every cupcake is a work of art. What if I got some from there?”

“That’s perfect.”

A smile lit up her face for a moment, but it wasn’t long before a frown brought shadows back to it. “I have another problem. What do I wear to this dinner? My closet is full of scrubs and business casual, nothing glamorous or fancy.”

He examined her outfit. She looked good, more than good. “What you’re wearing now is fine for dinner.”

She glanced down at her beige leggings and sky blue halter shirt. “It’s pretty businesslike.”

Though the shirt covered her up to the neck, it was sleeveless and framed her toned arms. It also diverted the eye to her breasts.

Gorgeous
.

He cleared his throat. “We’re expected to wear something like what you’ve got on anyway. No jeans and T-shirts at Grandma Maddy’s.”

Calla frowned. “Is she as eccentric as people say she is?”

“Normally I wouldn’t put any stock at all in what the media says about any celebrity, but in the case of my grandmother they’re right on the money.”

“Is she easy to talk to?”

“If she likes you, yes.”

“Any advice on what I can do to make a positive impression?”

“Be yourself.” He frowned. “Anything else would be a lie.”

“I
am
lying to her.” Her head tilted to one side. “About us. Aren’t I?”

Her words pulled him to a stop. “So don’t. Tell her the truth. You’ve come with me to the family dinner to keep my relatives,
not her
, from driving me crazy with their plans to fix my life.
rds pulled him to a stop. “Yes. ylish one. :-)here she wanted to presengiven her blush and wide eyes.ack and pulled it out to sh
Speak plainly. She likes people who stand up for themselves, not someone who kisses ass.”

“Got any of those in your family?”

“I’ve got way too many of those in my family.”

A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Hmm, sounds complicated.”

He glanced at her as he poured the tea. “Are you a psychiatrist on the side?”

“Nope, just a simple surgeon,” she said matter-of-factly.

He thought about that for a moment. “Why surgery?”

“I hate doing medicals.”

Her answer was too pat, too fast. “No really, why surgery? I assume you could have specialized in any sort of medicine.”

She played with her cup, twisting it around, back and forth. “I wanted to be able to fix people.”

“
Fix
them?”

“Put them back together…like Humpty Dumpty, I suppose.” She glanced at his face, then stared at her hands. “I don’t think anyone should have to walk down the street and be stared at because of scarring or burns or a bad limp. Everyone has the right to feel whole.”

“That’s what you did in Chicago, right? You worked on accident and burn victims, giving them their faces back or reconstructing whatever was broken?”

She gave a firm nod. “Yes.”

He stared at her in silence for a moment. Her brother lived in a medical facility full time. Did that have something to do with her need to fix people?

“But you can’t repair everything or everyone.”

She paused with her cup in midair. “I know.”

Did she know?

He leaned toward her and said in a low, intense tone, “Trying to be everything to everyone will only get you one thing.”

She knew what he meant; he could see it on her face. Her brows crowded low, her mouth tight and pinched. He’d hit a nerve.

“You’ll kill yourself. Heart attack, stroke, aneurysm. You know better than I do what can happen if you let yourself carry that stress long term.”

She sighed. “I have a problem with the word ‘no.’ If someone comes to me in need…” her voice trailed off. “How do you say no to someone who has nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to? I’m a doctor, it’s my responsibility to help them.”

“It’s your responsibility to take care of yourself, too.”

She made a frustrated noise. “I know that, intellectually.” She hugged her waist like she was trying to comfort herself, closing her off from him.

There was something else, something important she wasn’t telling him.

“How did you manage to get into such a huge amount of debt that your house and car were in danger of being repossessed?”

His question startled her enough that she jerked away and almost fell off her chair.

Chapter Six

“Bad luck.” She glanced away, resettling herself. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“Bad luck?” he repeated, but in a tone that shouted disbelief.

“Really bad. One disaster after another.”

He blinked and said, “Hit me with it.”

She smiled despite herself. At least he could make her laugh.

“Okay, medical school cost me a lot. Like, a couple hundred thousand. I borrowed most of it from the bank, but my parents had money saved up, so they contributed, too. I was working in Chicago and paying it off fairly quickly. Things were good until the car accident.” She took a breath and braced herself mentally. Her next words composed a simple sentence that was never easy to say. “My parents were killed and my brother was severely injured.”

Alex sipped his tea before asking, “Did they have insurance?”

“Enough to cover the funeral costs and about a couple of weeks’ worth of my brother’s medical bills.”

“How long was he in the hospital?”

“He never left.”

Alex put his cup down, a frown dominating his face. “Your brother’s injuries were permanent?”

“Yes, he’s a quadriplegic. His C3 vertebra was crushed and his spinal cord severed. He lives in a health facility where he’s provided twenty-four-hour-a-day care. It’s very expensive and absolutely necessary.” She waited for more, but Alex didn’t ask any other questions. “Now you know why I’m in debt up to my eyeballs.”

“There’s no one else you can ask for help?”

“No.”

He tilted his head to one side. “How did you pay off your car yesterday?”

Her eyebrows lowered over her eyes. “I didn’t.”

“It’s paid off.”

“No, I owe a couple thousand on that car.”

“Calla,” he said with a tone she imagined he used in the courtroom while addressing a judge. “The balance was paid off yesterday. I checked with the collection agency.”

That couldn’t be right. “It wasn’t me.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have done it? A friend or distant relative?”

She shook her head, dumbfounded.

“Hmm. A mysterious benefactor pays off your car loan just in time for a tabloid reporter to make it look like you’d earned the money in a less than legal way,” Alex said, staring off into space.

She could almost see the thoughts darting through his head. Weighing, measuring, judging. Would she come out looking guilty or innocent?

“Let’s give the collection agency another call and see if we can find out who paid the remainder of that loan off.”

He put the call through on his cell phone. She had to give permission for them to release what they called confidential information.

Surprising information.

“My brother?” Her voice rose in disbelief. “Where would he…?” She pulled out her cell phone and began texting while muttering about strange accounting errors. Alex was going to think she was nuts.

As soon as the phone chimed she read Richie’s reply.

“This doesn’t make sense,” she said after reading it a couple of times. “He says the
Wishing You Well
Foundation gave him three thousand dollars to spend on anything he liked that would make him feel more comfortable. He decided to pay off the car loan, so I’d have one less payment to worry about.” Calla sucked in a deep breath and asked, “I’ve never heard of the
Wishing You Well
Foundation, have you?”

“No, but I’ll look into it. The timing of the money seems too convenient.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Being a lawyer has its perks.”

She pushed her empty plate away and leaned forward. When she spoke her voice was serious, almost stern. “I have a question for you.”

He shrugged. “Shoot.”

“Why did you decide to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth to everyone all the time?”

He smiled, but it was a brittle, ice-covered expression. “I grew up dodging paparazzi, chatting with reporters, and having lunch with celebrities. No one in any of those groups is all that forthcoming with the truth. I got tired of the embellishments, the infighting, and the gossip. I got tired of people always being nice to your face then stabbing you in the back with an entire pitchfork. I
really
got tired of thinking I found a woman who might be the one, only to discover what she wanted was a way into the world.”

“The world?”

“Hollywood.” He said the word like it was dirty.

“How did you know when that happened?” Calla couldn’t help it if she was confused. He talked about Hollywood like it was another planet.

For all she knew, it was.

“My grandmother has what she calls a personality test.”

Oh no. Not that. “She didn’t.” Calla had a friend in college, smart, gorgeous and well-off, whose father had what he called a personality test for guys. As far as Calla knew, no man had ever passed.

“She did,” Alex said. “She waits to see if they’re dating me for real or so they can use her to meet the right movie people. None of them suspected that a sweet little old lady would turn on them and tear them apart like a great white shark coming off a hunger strike.”

“Ouch.” It must have been hard growing up in a place where style meant more than substance. It took a strong person to take a stand against all that when it was all he knew.

Alex Hardy wasn’t just a handsome face. He was much, much more.

He chuckled. “You’ve got that right. There’d be accusations, screaming, and more drama than a daytime soap during sweeps week. No one wants to be with a man who also tells them the absolute truth all the time. Eventually they get tired of hearing how much I dislike their favorite outfit or their haircut or their friends.”

“Did you ever tell them they looked beautiful when they looked beautiful?”

“Of course.”

She was almost afraid to ask, “How often?”

“When it was required.”

“Required?” She threw her hands in the air. “No wonder you can’t keep a girlfriend. Women need to hear how you feel about them far more often than men realize. You can’t tell people the truth as you see it and to hell with their feelings.”

“Why not? No one gives a shit about mine.”

“Wait a minute.” She pointed an index finger at his face. “Do you
hide
behind the truth?”

“How can anyone hide behind the truth?”

“Stating a fact isn’t the same as telling someone you love them or that they look great. Take the man who sent me flowers. He didn’t have to do it and it certainly wasn’t required, but he thanked me anyway and I’ll probably never throw that bit of poetry away.”

Alex blinked. “You liked it that much?”

“Women like to be told how much they matter. How important they are to their man. It isn’t about how she looks, it’s about how beautiful you
find
her.”

“Give me a minute,” he said dryly. “I only just discovered I need a personality makeover.”

That made her chuckle. “See, you can be charming when you want to.”

“I shall endeavor to keep it up.” He stared at her with enough heat in his gaze to start a blush on her cheeks.

She decided to give both of them a break and change the subject. “Tell me more about this dinner. Do you think your grandmother will try the personality test on me?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Does she know I’m coming with you in exchange for representing me?”

“Of course not.”

“Is it okay if I tell her?” Calla asked. Now that she’d had time to think, the idea of lying to his grandmother left her with a sour taste in her mouth.

“Just her. I want to keep the rest of my family guessing.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

Maybe her smile was too wide, or maybe he saw the hesitation in her gaze. Whatever the reason, he said, “You like causing trouble, don’t you, Doc?”

“What can I say, I don’t get out much, but when I do…” She shrugged. “You might enjoy it in a purely spectator sort of way.”

He shook his head at her and asked, “Any more tea?”

She glanced down. Her cup was empty. When had that happened? “No, thank you, that was lovely. I do have a request, though.”

“What’s that?” he asked as he got up and put their cups in the sink.

“Help me figure out a way for me to go home without the press getting in my way.”

He winced. “They aren’t going to go away.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “But…”

“Those guys are relentless. Believe me, I know,” Alex said with a grimace. “How about you crash in my spare room for tonight? You can put your car in my garage and no one will know you’re here.”

“And tomorrow?” She couldn’t hide out forever, or even for very long.

“We can go for a cupcake run and then you can either spend time at the clinic or my house until it’s time to go to dinner.”

Calla glanced down at herself. “And my clothes?”

“What you’re wearing now is great.” He gave her a once-over that left her hot and bothered. “I can loan you a shirt to sleep in if you’d like.”

“That sounds like a reasonable plan.”

“Of course it does, I’m a very reasonable kind of guy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not humble, though.”

He showed her where the spare room was, across the hall from his master suite. He also gave her a tour of the rest of the house and left her to watch some television while he worked in his home office.

Alex Hardy surprised her. Not once. Not twice, but repeatedly. She’d thought him arrogant, insensitive, and ruthless. Sometimes he was all those things. When dealing with the press, certainly, and with good reason. She didn’t know how he kept from punching people who asked stupid questions over and over.

But, he was also generous and strong. Protective, even.

He hadn’t liked that a stranger had sent her flowers and wrote her a poem that had lifted her spirits just when they needed the boost.

Too bad he hadn’t sent her the flowers and poem. He’d be as close to her perfect man as anyone could get.

When she got tired, she entered the spare room and found a man’s T-shirt and a pair of sweats on the bed. She undressed and put on his clothes. They were warm and as she snuggled under the blankets, she wondered what he wore to bed.

And for some strange and terrifying reason, she had to fight the urge to go into his room and find out.

The next morning, Alex took her to Colin’s Cupcake Shop, but it had a line of patrons out the door and down the street, waiting to go inside. Alex dropped her off so she could get in line, then left to find a parking space. Fifteen minutes later she was still in line, though a lot closer to the door.

“I had to park three blocks away,” Alex said as he joined her. “There isn’t a space to be found around here.

“I’ve been people watching,” she told him in a whisper. “Bikers, preachers, and poets all seem to like cupcakes.”

“Baking is the great equalizer.”

She laughed. “Frosting is my favorite part.”

He nudged her with a shoulder and asked, “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Oh, do I have to pick just one?”

He sighed. “That answer tells me you’re too far gone to help.”

“Yes, I have to agree.” Calla stared at the cupcakes through the front windows of the store and licked her lips. “I’m not ever going to give up my sweets.”

“You, a sweet tooth?” One of Alex’s eyebrows raised. “I’ll have to remember that the next time you’re angry with me.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve got a mouthful. If it weren’t for all the stress I go through, I’d weigh a lot more than I do.”

The shoulder next to hers tensed and he asked carefully, “Stress?”

“My job isn’t all sweetness and light. I’ve seen…horrific things.”

Her vision narrowed and for a long moment she was back there, sitting in the driver’s seat of the family van, pinned by twisted metal. In the passenger seat next to her was her father, dead. In the backseat, her mother and brother were too quiet, too still. The bitter smell of blood and burned rubber assaulted her nose.

She opened her mouth to scream.

“Calla? Calla!”

Someone jostled her and jerked her out of the memory.

“Calla, are you okay?” Alex held her by the arms as if he were holding her up. Maybe he was. “Say something or I’m calling an ambulance.”

She concentrated on focusing her sight on his face and muttered, “Drama king.”

His frown deepened and he asked slowly, “What was that?”

“Flashback,” she answered. Her hands were still shaking. “Sorry. I haven’t had one like that for a couple of years.”

“Post-traumatic stress?” He glanced around at the line and took a step to pull them out, but she resisted.

“We don’t need to leave.”

“Are you sure?”

“I won’t let PTSD stop me from living my life.” She let out another deep breath and said, “It doesn’t only happen to soldiers and cops.” It wasn’t just her hands, her whole body was shaking. If she didn’t find somewhere to calm down, somewhere safe, it was only going to get worse.

“I triggered it?”

“Sort of.” He shifted closer to her, and in the close quarters of the line, his warmth and scent surrounded her it was like coming home.
Hot dog, a mobile safe haven
. She wanted to lean into him and soak up more of his heat.

How could she feel that way about him? He wasn’t safe, not at all, yet here he was, helping her in ways that continued to surprise her.

Could she rely on him, trust him?

She didn’t know, and that uncertainty shook her as much as the flashback she’d just had.

His hand brushed hers and he leaned down to say quietly in her ear, “You have to tell me what not to say, so I don’t trigger you again.”

She made herself slide away a half step, her heart and her brain at odds with taking comfort from him. “It’s not that easy an answer. Lots of things can trigger a flashback. Smells, sounds, the light hitting my face the wrong way. My parents’ accident… The stress from the last couple of days must have put me on a hair trigger.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice rumbled out of his chest and it chased away her demons a little more.

Calla took hold of her confused emotions and tried to stuff them into a box in the back of her brain.
Careful, the last time you let your guard down with a man who seemed perfect, he tore your heart in half and stole from you.
“Thank you. Your growly voice is very good at chasing off the monsters that lurk in the dark corners of my head.”