Pants on Fire (10 page)

“I’ll have to be, Bernie. This tour will break my career if I mess up, or if there’s any bad press.” She took a bite of the pizza and closed her eyes, savouring the cheesy, spicy goodness. “I needed this.”

“I’m blowing my diet for you,” Bernie said, but she said that every time they split and pizza and Megan only rolled her eyes.

“That’s why you’re sticking with water, remember?”

“So very true. Bon Appetite!”

After dinner Megan resigned herself to going straight back to her apartment. The blessing of a heavy on-set schedule was that it left very little time for thinking and most nights Megan had simply collapsed on the couch and slept in her clothes when she’d gotten home.

Tonight she had things to do, like unpacking from her vacation, and packing for her tour. The studio would make sure that her costume and make-up kit made it to every location on time so all she needed was some street clothes and her bag of shower stuff, plus maybe a book or two to read on the plane rides. It wouldn’t take long which meant it wouldn’t keep her mind occupied for long.

Once packed, Megan checked and double checked her itinerary, set and triple checked her alarm, had a large glass of water and a low-fat yogurt cup as penance for the pizza, and went to bed.

She’d been honest with Bernie when she’d said she planned to turn in early, but there was no way she was getting to sleep anytime soon.

It was Tyler, of course, who crowded her thoughts and wouldn’t let her sleep. She knew full well it was her own damn fault she’d missed her chance with him. First she’d let her history with Bryce make her insecure. She’d let those insecurities lead to a fight that had made her look like a complete and utter moron. The fight had cost them half a day together. And then she’d been so caught up in her own emergency and saving her career that she hadn’t even thought of calling him. Not until too late, anyways.

She’d told herself a dozen times already that it was all for the best and that it was better if a casual fling stayed just that. Never mind the nagging in her mind or the aching in her heart. This was for the best.

She rolled over and closed her eyes, fully intent on getting a good night’s sleep, when that damned voice in her head said,
He loves you, Megan, and you walked out on him just when you might have been falling in love with him too. Is it really for the best that you left? Or is it just easier than having to admit how you feel?

“Shut up,” she whispered but the tears were already starting and she cried herself to sleep.

Tyler signed the last document, closed the client folder, and set it in the ‘complete’ basket which was already full to the top, a testament to his focus and work ethic. Of course the two piles of folders, reports, and papers in his ‘do this’ basket were testament to why he didn’t get very many vacations. The fact that it was only two piles and not four or five was because Stephanie was the world’s greatest secretary and Tyler planned to buy her something very shiny and very expensive for her birthday next month to show his appreciation.

Or maybe dinner reservations and tickets to a show,
he thought.
I can watch AJ for them so they can have a romantic evening with no toddler, and no cost.

He was patting himself on the back for being so clever and considerate when an alert popped up on his computer screen. Just before starting that last folder he’d set up a phone number search and the results were in.

“Four hundred thirty seven listings for McCollum, M.?” he muttered. “So much for that idea.”

The phone rang and he scooped it up. “Yes?”

“Tyler, I just got a memo that you should take a look at. One of those celebrity check-ins.”

“Fine, bring it in.”

Stephanie crossed the length of the office, dropped the thin pile of papers on his desk, and collected his pile of completed work. “I’ll need an answer within the hour,” she said.

“An answer to what?”

“Will you be checking the celebrity in personally? It is tradition, after all, but you’ve been so mopey lately that maybe it’s a good idea not to.”

He glanced down at the papers. A clown face stared back at him. “A children’s entertainer?”

Stephanie nodded. “I’m taking AJ to her book signing. He watches her on TV every week.”

“I’ll be there to check her in; you can let the manager know. When is this?”

“Right after lunch. I’ll have your car brought around front at noon.”

“Thanks Stephanie.”

When she was gone again he took another look at the colour photo in front of him. The woman in the picture was smiling and holding a wooden spoon which was appropriate since she was standing in a kitchen with a bowl full of something chocolate on the counter in front of her. The title on the image read “Cooking for Kids – By Miss Maizy Daisy”. Tyler kept staring. There was no way to know what this woman would look like under the clown make up and the wig, but there was something in her eyes that reminded him of Megan.

He gave his head a shake. “You’ve been seeing Megan everywhere,” he muttered. He sighed and grabbed another folder off the pile. “Well, one more and then a quick lunch before you go meet Miss Maizy Daisy.”

***

The hotel was one of the largest that Tyler owned, since it was also one of the first that his father had built and it had undergone extensive renovations and expansions twice. The lobby was decorated in reds and brass, like something out of the 1930s, but with a modern edge that kept it attractive to the business crowd.

Tyler hovered behind the front desk with the branch manager and the head of customer service. They had all the papers and keycards ready and two staff members on standby to help with bags. Of course Miss Maizy Daisy was running late, but from what the manager had told him of past celebrity visits that was quite normal.

When two women carrying four bags between them came in, Tyler’s heart stopped. The one was short, slightly heavy set, with a square face that had a no-nonsense air to it. The other was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and had feared he’d never see again.

Megan followed Bernie into the lobby and up to the front desk where a trim, well-dressed, balding man came easing around to shake their hands.

“I’m Samuel Brisbane,” he said. “I’m the manager here. This Mr. Copper, our head of Customer Service, and Mr. Mathers, the owner of the hotel.”

Megan had to refrain from rolling her eyes and made a mental note to ask Bernie if they’d have to deal with this sickening heap of over-sweet attention everywhere they went. And then Mr. Brisbane released her hand and stepped back and Megan came face-to-face with Mr. Mathers.

“Ms. McCollum,” he said. “It’s wonderful to meet you in person. My secretary says you are her son’s favourite star.”

“I’m flattered. Usually the kids like Mickey Mouse first, and then me.”

Bernie elbowed her in the ribs and shouldered her way through to shake hands with the men. “Bernie Stein,” she said. “I’ll be dealing with the paperwork and such.”

“Right this way then,” Mr. Brisbane said and ushered Bernie over to the desk.

“I’m not sure what your schedule allows for,” Tyler said to Megan, still keeping to the charade of meeting her for the first time, “But maybe you’d join me for a meal before you leave?”

“I’ve never had dinner with the owner of a hotel before,” she said with a short laugh. “Why not? I’m very interested in how someone as young as you managed to get a hold of so many fancy hotels.”

“Dinner it is. I’ll meet you here in the restaurant.” He nodded and smiled at her then waved over two young men to take the bags. “I’ll let you get settled and I’ll get back to work running my fancy hotels.”

“What time?” she said.

“Oh, would seven work for you?”

“Yes, seven works. I’ll see you then.” She kept her face as neutral as possible and let Bernie lead her to the elevators.

At seven Megan went down to the restaurant after a half hour argument with Bernie over whether or not she was going alone. Finally, out of sheer desperation, she had said, “Do you remember that mystery man from my holidays? Well you’ve just met him. Now I plan to go down there, alone, and find out why he didn’t think it important to tell me that he didn’t just work for the hotels, he owned them!”

That had shut Bernie up.

The restaurant was pretty standard for a hotel, lots of round tables with white table clothes and white table settings. Of course it was the subtle details that set this hotel a step above the one in Kingsbridge, like the chandelier style light fixtures, and the expensive looking uniforms that the waiters wore, and the way they poured the wine as though they’d been trained for months on just that one movement.

She looked down at her dress, the only fancy thing she’d thought to bring along, and sighed.
Well, at least there are half a dozen guests down here in blue jeans,
she thought, put on a smile that she hoped wouldn’t look forced, and walked up to the little podium with the ‘Please Wait to be Seated’ sign on it.

A waiter came over and started pulling a menu from a pile. “For one?” he asked.

“No, uh, my name is Megan McCollum, I’m meeting Mr. Mathers here for dinner.”

The menu slid smoothly back into the pile. “Of course, right this way.”

She wove through the tables to the back of the restaurant where the waiter opened a door with frosted glass windows. “Mr. Mathers requested the private dining room for your meal this evening. Please, enjoy.”

This smaller room looked just like the main restaurant, except for the pile of tables folded in one corner and the stack of chairs in another. Tyler sat at a round table, set for two, reading a report of some kind. When she came in he set the report aside and smiled at her.

“The private dining room?” she said. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I was concerned that our conversation might get a little heated so I thought sitting apart from the other guests would be best for both of us.” He shrugged. “Besides, private dining room may sound impressive, but it’s for large groups – weddings, business lunches, things like that. I got lucky that it wasn’t in use today.”

“You couldn’t just order them to let you use it?” She sat down across from him.

He laughed. “Not if I wanted to stay CEO. The guest comes first in all things. My father was very strict about that. I ordered for us both, if that’s all right. The food should be here any moment.”

She almost protested but, like magic, the waiter appeared and set a plate of steamed salmon in front of her. “It looks great,” she managed.

“I’ve missed you, Megan. I tried to get in touch with you but your mother wouldn’t give me your number.”

“Yeah, my mom is over protective like that. I’m sorry I didn’t call before you checked out, I meant to, I just got so caught up at work that I lost track of days.”

“Speaking of work, working in television was a bit of an understatement.”

“Less of an understatement than ‘I work for a hotel chain doing nothing in particular’.”

“Yeah, okay, point taken. So, Miss Maizy Daisy? I never would have guessed it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Do you know how many guys I have told? They either bolt because they don’t want to be Mr. Maizy Daisy in the press or they want me to bring the clown costume home in the evenings.” She shuddered and took a bite of her supper. “Wow, this is really good fish.”

“Why did you decide to become Miss Maizy Daisy?”

“I like fun. I’m not really a clown or anything, I never graduated from Clown College and my face isn’t registered. I’m just a children’s performer with a funny face and a wig. I like kids, I like crafts, I like being silly.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I think it suits you.”

“What about you, Mr. Mathers? I asked you straight out what you did at this hotel chain you worked for and you blatantly lied to me.”

“I know, I’m sorry, but you of all people should understand. I really hope you’ll understand.” He paused to pour more wine and smiled at her. “Since you’re not driving anywhere tonight.”

“What should I understand?”

He sighed. “Ever since college I’ve been
the
Tyler Mathers, heir to the hotel chain and all the money and prestige that goes with it. At parties I’m always introduced as ‘Tyler Mathers, he’s in the hotel business,’ because people want to show off their connections. That means that every young woman I meet already knows how big my bank account is.”

“So that horrible date, when she broke up with you for not taking her shopping …”

“Yeah, that was a bad one. She wanted me to foot all her credit card bills, and that girl had expensive tastes. The others were more casual and subtle about it, acting interested in me, in my interests, but they’d get bored and start wanting to travel to Europe on my family’s jet, or stay for free in any hotel my father owned, or they wanted me to fund their modeling or acting career, the list really does go on but you get the point.”

“You thought if I found out you were
the
Tyler Mathers that I’d start asking for money?”

He shrugged. “Every woman I’ve ever dated has wanted my money, it’s not an optimistic track record. I thought even if the money didn’t matter that you’d run out because I’d been lying.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want to scare you off and you didn’t want to know if my feelings could actually be strong enough to resist your money. What a pair of cowardly liars we are. And what a lot of useless, emotional baggage we’re carrying.”

“You mean Bryce?”

“I mean all of it. My cheating ex, the creeps who like kinky sex with clowns, the men who were scared of being involved with me, the women afraid of being involved with you, the greedy whores who wanted your money …”

“For a children’s entertainer you sure swear a lot.”

“And my father chides me for it every chance he gets. I keep my private life very private.”

He put a hand over hers. “I’m glad to hear that. They gave you and Bernie separate rooms, right?”

Megan nodded. “Why?”

“Because I missed you and I want to apologize to you for all the stupidity.”

“Apology accepted.”

He got out of his chair, came around the table, and kissed her deeply. “I’m not done apologizing.”

“I’m on tour. I can’t be seen having an affair with Tyler Mathers in his own hotel, my producers will cancel the show.”

“Go upstairs, get changed, and meet me down the block at the deli.”

“You’re going to apologize to me in a deli?”

“No, we’re going to go to a cheap motel and I’ll apologize there.”

She laughed. “No. Never. I’m not playing sneak around games while I’m on tour.”

“I want you Megan so unless you want me to bar the doors and apologize to you right here in the private dining room …”

She was laughing so hard now that she could hardly breathe. “All right, you can come up. If anyone asks you were having drinks with me, and my media rep.”

“The hard-faced woman who checked in with you? Won’t she rat us out?”

“Not a chance. Bernie is dead set on this tour being a success.”

“Let’s go then.” He tugged on her arm.

“What? Right now? I haven’t finished my dinner!”

He paused at the door and let her regain her composure and then they calmly walked from the dining room and through the restaurant, while Tyler rattled off truly boring facts about the hotel. In the lobby he said, “There’s a particularly beautiful painting in the hallway of the eighth floor, if you’re interested in art.”

“I am, actually. You don’t have to take all this time to show me around, I know you’re busy.”

“Nonsense, it’s one of my rare free evenings.”

Once in the elevator she whispered, “Do you think we’re fooling anyone?”

“I hope so, because I’m showing a lot of restraint in not kissing you right now,” he whispered back.

They made a point of stopping at the aforementioned painting and actually discussing it, all for the benefit of the hallway security camera. Then they made their way to her room and quietly went in.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked as she set her keycard on the dresser.

He stepped up close behind her and kissed the back of her neck. His hands wandered up and down her arms and she relaxed.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into her neck. She wanted to melt right there but he held her up and guided her slowly towards the bed.

“Your touch feels so good,” she murmured.

He unzipped the back of her dress and she let it fall in a puddle around her ankles. She stepped out of her shoes and turned into his arms. He smiled and ran his fingers along the top of her bra. “What, no fancy lace today?”

“I packed for comfort, not for sharing, I’m sorry.” They smiled at each other and then she turned her attention to his many buttons. There were buttons up the front of his shirt, and jacket, buttons on his shirt sleeves, and belt and a button on his pants. “Thank god you’re not wearing the tie,” she muttered.

“I thought about it, but then you would have started undressing me in public again.” He kissed her and took her in his arms and they fell into bed. Slowly their hands sought out familiar places, each taking the time to enjoy the other’s body.

The remainder of their clothes fell away as they reached for more skin, seeking a more intimate connection. Soon lips followed fingers and they wrestled back and forth trailing kisses up and down each other’s bodies.

He ran his fingers up her sides, making her jump away with a shrill yelp. At her glare he shrugged. “Just checking.” He reached for her, pulled her tight against his body, and kissed her hard.

They came together slowly, a parting and intertwining that happened almost without conscious effort. She rolled, long legs parting. He followed her, still kissing her, his hips brushing hers. He paused then and looked down into her eyes.

They stared at each other for a long moment as the sun dipped below the city sky line casting the room into deep shadow. She reached up, touched his cheek with soft, almost timid fingers. “Are you real?”

“Yes.” His voice was deep, rough with desire. “Now I am real. Now you know me.”

“Yes.” She kissed him. “But I wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming again.”