Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (24 page)

"Cade is just fine," he said with another smile that lit up his whole face. "And I always love meeting fans of my work, so apologies aren’t necessary."

I cleared my throat, realizing he probably didn’t come over to sign an autograph. "Uh, have a seat. And you can call me Leila."

"Thank you, ma'am." Usually the whole ‘ma'am’ thing would completely turn me off, but there was just something about a megastar that hadn't forgotten his down home roots and manners that I found endearing.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch-"

"Oh it's fine," I tossed a napkin over my barely eaten sandwich. "I just wasn't expecting to see you until Monday morning."

"Yeah, uh, that's what my assistant had written on the calendar." An awkward silence stretched out between us for a minute until he shuffled in his seat uncomfortably and got on with it. "You know I've been out of town, working on a new movie."

I nodded. "
Soldier's Creed
." I'd only skimmed the script and flipped through publicity shots on the plane ride back to the States, but even then I knew this would reinstate him back on the action throne. "I know all of us here can't wait for the premiere. The story sounds amazing."

"It
is
amazing," he said, arms flexing as he crossed them against his chest. "It's based on a true story. We flew the guy out on location, got to hear it straight. He was a real fucking hero." His face scrunched as he apologized for the profanity. "Beg your pardon. It was just surreal to see what was written on the paper in the flesh."

"You don't have to apologize." I felt like I needed to. 'Based on a true story' had become a cliché and I'd assumed they'd taken a grain of truth and turned it into a virtual bread factory of explosions and riveting soundtrack that had very little to do with truth.

"He's a true American hero," Cade continued, looking out the window like something transfixed. "Not a wannabe like me."

“A wannabe?” I repeated.

“National Guard,” he answered quietly. His whole demeanor changed, the sunny, charismatic force somewhat dimmed. He was somber and almost eerily silent compared to the guy who first sat down at my table.

I scooted to the edge of my seat, curious. "I had no idea you were military."

"Yeah," he said gruffly, not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t do anything worth remembering.”

“Don’t say that.” I reached out, putting my hand over his. There was something about the way his body language changed that made me forget he was Cade Wallace. “Anyone serving our country and fighting for our freedom is worth remembering.”

“Is that right?” he said halfheartedly.

“Yep,” I said firmly, deciding to try a different route. “Most actors can only say they’ve played characters, researching experiences to tell an authentic story. You’ve actually done it.”

He glanced up and he took me in nice and slow like he saw me in a whole new light. Or maybe even for the first time.

I pulled my hand away and let out a nervous chuckle, wondering what Cade’s story was and why in an age where every booger celebrities picked was readily available there was nothing at all listed as far as a military record.

"Anyway,” he began, cutting through my musings, “I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd come and meet the team that's helping ensure it gets the box office reception it deserves."

I wrung my hands in my lap, refreshing the blush in my cheeks. "I'm just a small part of the team, Mr. Wallace."

"My mother was a nurse. She spent her life doing the grunt work while doctors got all the glory." He winked as he rose to his feet. "Trust me—I know what a big role the small parts play."

I sat a little taller, wishing Natasha or any of the handful of women that had been looking at me like I wasn’t fit to scrub the toilets were around to hear that. "Well, alright then."

"You take care and I'll see you bright and early on Monday." He stopped and turned back to me, giving me another dazzling smile. "It was nice meeting you, Leila."

****

L
e Goût had been on my ‘Big City Dreams’ list since forever. They had a Michelin star chef on staff and were always given amazing reviews in all the right newspapers and magazines. Even though I'd only been on the outside looking in, watching beautiful people around tables with dishes that cost as much as my grocery bill for the month, I knew that Le Goût represented something special. It was the pinnacle of class and prestige—everyone that was anybody had walked through the doors at least once. Even scoring a reservation less than a month in advance was impossible. Unless you were Jacob Whitmore.

Jacob put the Porsche in park as we pulled to the velvet rope in front of Le Goût. The valet was on his p's and q's, promptly moving to open my door. Jacob held up his finger and the man paused, arms at his side, giving us a moment.

"Are you alright?" His eyes flickered over my face. "You've barely said two words since we got in the car."

I unclicked my seatbelt slowly and when I met his gaze I didn't even bother with a white lie. I'd gotten my mother's text over thirty minutes ago and Jacob had to call Le Goût and give them the okay to seat her and Dad, even though they were mega early for our 8pm reservation. I'd become a whirlwind, saying the hell with drying and flat-ironing my hair and forgetting all the strategic make up I'd planned to apply. It was my first time at my dream restaurant and my curly hair was in a messy bun on top of my head and I was wearing an unassuming black dress because I didn’t have the time to steam the scarlet number I wanted to wear. God only knew the trouble my mother was getting into. Add that to the stress of my parents meeting Jacob and no wonder I was close-lipped.

One side of his mouth tugged upward. "You're nervous about your parents." When my eyebrow arched, he remedied. "Nervous about your mother."

I gave him a slight nod as I fiddled with my clutch. I'd told Jacob about my run in with the paps at my parent's house and accidentally let it slip that my mother tipped them off. I'd expected him to write her off, to think she was just another fame hungry Momzilla living vicariously through her offspring, but he'd just laughed and asked if they got any good pictures. And he still wanted to meet her. It was terribly sweet—and upped the ante to a fever pitch that had dread coursing through my veins. He was the first guy who ever seemed genuinely interested in my family and learning about where I came from. It made the possibility that something would happen unbearable.

"It'll be fine." He stroked my thigh, his touch taking the edge off. "It's just dinner."

I gave him a smile and with a nod from Jacob, the valet opened my door and I stepped out of the car. I ignored the part of me that knew it was a lot more than that. I breathed in and out as I clung to his arm and we breezed inside.

All the sights and smells dulled the nerves and I relaxed as we turned to the dining room. The area was a sea of glossy, important looking people, the jewels and watches at their wrists glittering as brightly as the silverware on the table.

I held my smile, believing that maybe, just maybe the night wouldn’t turn into a train wreck until I saw my mother. Her face was furious and disdain flowed off her in waves—and was directed at the waiter. We were easily fifty feet away, but I still heard her words loud and clear.

"What do you mean it’s twenty-five dollars for Perrier? I can buy it for two bucks at the drugstore down the street!"

Oh God.

I rushed forward, hoping she would put the crazy back in the box once she spotted me and Jacob. "Hi Mom!"

She turned her head back to the front and went from meltdown to Miss Congeniality. "Leila!" She swat the waiter away like she was the Queen of England as she stood up, holding out her arms. “It’s so good to see you!”

I gave her an awkward hug before I stepped aside to introduce Jacob. "And this is-"

"My future son-in-law!"

Jacob let out an uncomfortable chuckle as she brought him in for a hug that lasted way longer than appropriate. “Mrs. Montgomery, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh the pleasure’s
all
mine,” she said with a grating wink.

My father gave Jacob a sturdy handshake once my mother released him and flashed me an apologetic half smile.

I settled in my seat, trying to ignore the warmth of the gaze of the other patrons. Their disapproving eyes were as unnerving as cameras flashing. When our waiter gauged he wouldn't be chewed out again over the price of water, he breezed back to the table. I barely let him get a word out before I ordered the biggest martini they had.

"Hard day at work?" Mom didn’t even bother masking her judgment.

"Something like that," I answered with a tight smile.

I knew she wanted to push the subject, maybe give me a lecture about how it wasn't ladylike to drink, but she let it go. "It must be so glamorous working with celebrities." She leaned forward, dropping her voice to a near whisper. "Working with anyone interesting?"

I glanced at Jacob and he gave me a nod. "Right now we're working with Cade Wallace."

She exchanged a look with my dad and he shook his head. "You know I don't keep up with that stuff, sweetheart."

She turned back to me, her forehead scrunched in concentration. "There's something familiar about that name..." She snapped her fingers as it dawned on her. "Cade Wallace! That bulky, Captain America looking action star with the strong jawline?"

"That's him," I said with a weak laugh. My smile faltered when I realized why she remembered his jawline at all.

Oh no...

"If memory serves, Lay had quite the crush on him."

Jacob perked with interest. "Is that right?"

"I don't know if I'd call it a crush, Mom," I smoldered.

I must have been naive to think that this meet and greet would go any different than the others. I'd turned down an offer for Jacob and I to come over for a home cooked meal, remembering my mother bringing out the photo album for the first guy I'd brought home. The second had to endure Mom's frighteningly descriptive honeymoon with Dad after she found out we were going on a cruise.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” I said, trying to crush the subject.

"Oh please," she snickered. "You had posters of the man plastered all over your dorm." She winked at Jacob. "All the other girls swoon over Leonardo DiCaprio, but not my Leila. She liked her men with
extra
testosterone."

I hoped her dated intel would lessen the blow of revealing that I was a fan of Cade’s, but I could already tell that she'd ruffled Jacob's feathers. The hand on my thigh retreated to his own and his jaw went tight as a bowstring.

"Well," Jacob said with a chuckle that he only used when he was pretending he found something amusing. "Maybe I should have made the time to meet the man of Leila's dreams."

I jabbed him with my elbow. "Don't be silly. You're the man of my dreams." When he looked at me for a heartbeat of a second, I could see the anger flash through his ice blue eyes.

The waiter returned to our table and I downed my drink in record time and held up a single finger. He gave me an abrupt nod and hustled away to get me another.

Jacob didn't even touch his drink. He just kept his eyes forward, icing me out like I kept some great secret from him.

I gave my mother a pointed look and she let out a nervous giggle.

"Well, um, what are you doing with Cade exactly? Another junket like Venice?"

I'd been hoping for a complete subject change, but as long as she wasn't singing 'Leila and Cade, sitting in a tree', I'd take it. "He has a film coming out soon, so we're working with him to set up media interviews and other promotional activities."

"A new movie?" she said brightly. "What's it called so Dad and I can be there opening night, bells and whistles on?"

I couldn't help but smile at her efforts. Even when she was being absolutely ridiculous and embarrassing me with impressive skill, she always found a way to make me lower my arms by reminding me how she supported me. "
Soldier's Creed
."

"That movies about 'Nam, right?"

Everyone turned to my dad, surprised he actually said enough words to string together a sentence.

He cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, clearly not a fan of being in the spotlight. "I remember seeing something about it in
The Times
." He passed the mic to my mother. "You remember that article, don't you Cheryl?"

"I sure do." She fondled with the pearls at her neck, a rueful look on her face. "It's just horrible what they did to that boy in the POW camp. For him to stay strong after all of that is amazing."

I nodded in agreement. After meeting Cade I'd read up about the film and the soldier's story that inspired it. After being captured by enemy forces, he'd endured unspeakable atrocities for months on end but he never gave in.

"Cade told me that they actually brought the soldier in as a consultant." I traced the stem of my martini glass. "As a vet, he seemed really moved by the story and honored to share it on the screen."

"Interesting," Jacob said beside me, his face impassive.

I turned to him, glad he was finally getting over it. "Yeah, the story was really interesting."

"Oh I wasn't talking about the story." He gulped down a swallow of scotch. "I was referring to you being on a first name basis with a client. Kind of unprofessional, don't you think?"

Heat unfurled in my cheeks as I tried, and failed, to temper my response. "I referred to our last “client” by her first name on numerous occasions. And since you gave the go ahead to share with my folks, I really don't see what the big deal is."

As soon as I was done and saw the look on everyone's faces, I felt like the village idiot. The big deal was obvious.

Jacob was jealous.

****

E
ven though I knew my mother couldn't say no to anything dessert related, she acted like she was bursting at the seams and had zero interest in looking at their treats. At the start of the evening I'd wanted to hit fast forward but since Jacob had been given me a sneak peek of the epic fight we were gonna have, suddenly I wasn't so excited about parting ways.