Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends Book 1)

BOOK: Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends Book 1)
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DREAMING WITH A BROKEN HEART

 

 

HOLLYWOOD LEGENDS BOOK ONE

 

 

MARY J. WILLIAMS

 

 

Copyright © 2016 MARY J. WILLIAMS

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

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.

 

Mary J. Williams

 

MORE BOOKS BY 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)

 

 

FOR ALL THE DREAMERS

 

PROLOGUE

 

 

THE ROOM WAS dark. Too dark for Garrett’s liking. A little
stuffy, a slight antiseptic smell with an overlay of sex. That’s what you got from
a cheap motel and furtive lovemaking. Odors and memories you’d just as soon
forget.

The sounds from behind the closed bathroom door indicated
his partner was trying to remove all traces of their recent activities. It
shouldn’t hurt. This wasn’t the first time, and damn his weak resolve, it
wouldn’t be the last.

If he smoked, he would have something to do with his hands.
Watching his father struggle with lung cancer put the fear of God in him and
his brothers at an early age. All four of them had their vices; smoking wasn’t
one of them.

Get up. Get dressed. For once, be the first to leave
.
Even if he could find the balls to walk out on her, he couldn’t leave her alone
at this time of night. In this part of town.

God, it was like a furnace in here. Despite having the AC
wall unit on high, Garrett knew it must be hotter in here than outside. The
sheet riding low on his hips was too much. Damn modesty. The room was too dark
to see anything; if she didn’t like seeing his naked body, she could turn away.
Garrett whipped off the coarse cotton material at the same moment the bathroom
door opened.

“You don’t have to go,” Garrett said to the
shadowed figure.

“Yes, I do.”

She always made sure the light was off. Her silhouette
showed a tall woman, thin. Too thin. Even by L.A. standards. She was gaining
weight — slowly. Garrett could attest to that. He knew it was a struggle. One
she fought every day.

Garrett felt the anger drain from his body — his heart melt.
Her demands were not capricious whims. They weren’t her attempt to gain the
upper hand. Her goal was not to manipulate. She had her reasons. They were
real. Legitimate.

“It’s still early.”

Garrett kept his voice low and even. Shouting didn’t help.
She never fought back. Retreat. That was her coping mechanism. The last time he
blew up it was two weeks before she would take his calls.

“I…” she cleared her voice. “His flight gets
in at midnight.”

“Don’t be there.”

“You know how he gets.”

Garrett knew all right. She was devoted to a man who treated
her like crap, forgot her existence ninety percent of the time, yet expected
her to be there when he decided to come home. His fists clenched the mattress.
It was the only thing preventing him from grabbing her, begging her to stay.
For
once, pick me
.

“I don’t know when I can see you again.”

I don’t know if I ever want to see you again
. Garrett
thought the words. He would never verbalize them. She was his drug of choice.
Weeks passed. The need for her grew. Outwardly, his life looked smooth as
glass. Inside, the itch grew.

Garrett became an expert at compartmentalizing. His work
never suffered. His family never suspected. No one had the slightest clue about
what was raging inside of him.
She
knew. Because she shared his
unbreakable habit. Enablers. That’s what they were. It was sick. Sometimes,
like tonight, he hated himself. He wished he could hate her. Then, maybe, he
could walk away.

“I’ll be out of town for the next month.”

Garrett wished he could see her face. Was she sorry he’d be
gone? Relieved? Would she miss him half as much as he was going to miss her?

“Take care.”

Garrett waited a second, letting the motel room door close
behind her. Jumping up, rushing to the window, he pulled back the thin, dingy
curtain. He never walked her to the taxi. Even the minutest chance of them
being seen was too much.

The ritual of watching until she was safely inside the
vehicle, seat belt on, doors locked, was something he never ignored. Nothing
bad would happen to her when he was around. It was when he wasn’t there that
trouble found her. One more frustration. It wasn’t his place to protect her.
Knowing that drove him crazy.

Garrett grabbed his jeans from a nearby chair, pulling them
on. Unlike her, he wouldn’t clean up before he left. He would carry the smell
of her with him — let it fill the interior of his car. Tomorrow he would
pretend it was still there.

Damn it. Enough. He deserved more than this. They both did.
One month. When he got back, one way or another, things were going to change.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

HOLLYWOOD. DREAMS FULFILLED. Dreams crushed. It happened every
day. Wide-eyed kids still came hoping to be a star. More often than not, they
went back home — a nobody. Iowa, Nebraska, Texas, Georgia. Insert state here.
Small town, big city. It didn’t matter. The movie industry seemed vast from the
outside. In truth, it was the most insular of worlds. Making it took
determination, perseverance, and a whole lot of luck. Talent was so far down
the list it wasn’t funny.

Connections. That was what got you through the door. If you
had a recognizable name, the door swung wide, the smiles welcoming. If you
couldn’t pull your weight once you were inside, no one hesitated to kick you
out. That famous name only got you so far. The rest was on your shoulders.

Sink or swim. No life preservers were thrown your way. If
anything, you were fitted with cement shoes. The only thing this town loved
more than a winner was the child of a Hollywood legend falling flat on his
face.

Garrett Landis felt the weight of those expectations every
time he stepped on a movie set. His father set the bar so high none of his sons
was expected to reach his lofty heights. The fact that all four seemed well on
their way to not only matching Caleb Landis’ achievements, but surpassing them,
caused quite a stir.

Resentment simmered under the surface of hearty backslapping
and insincere ass kissing. Their father taught his boys many things. In this
business, never turn your back on friend or foe. Treat everyone with respect,
from the lowliest crew member to the head of the studio. The most important
thing? In this business, trust no one — except brothers. Eight years after
making his first low-budget independent film, Garrett followed those rules
without question. The Gospel according to Caleb Landis. His father’s words were
his bible. His brothers were his rock.

Wyatt, the oldest, followed directly in their father’s
footsteps. He was a hard-ass, bottom-line producer. Nathaniel, Garrett’s
fraternal twin, was the daredevil of the bunch. He was the most in-demand stuntman
in Hollywood. Baby brother Colton was blessed with movie star looks. His
charisma leaped off the screen, pulling in even the most cynical audience
member. Or so one critic wrote after seeing Colt’s first movie. Individually,
each Landis brother was formidable. Together, they dominated almost every
branch of the industry.

“How can we be behind schedule when we haven’t shot a
single frame?”

“Welcome to the glamorous world of moviemaking.”

Garrett grinned when he answered his assistant director,
Hamish Floyd. This was their fourth collaboration. The first two made a nice
profit. Number three broke box office records. Expectations for
Exile
went through the roof the second Garrett’s name became attached. With Wyatt
behind the scenes, the movie’s success was practically guaranteed.

Garrett didn’t believe in sure things. He worked hard on
every project, no matter the size. Bigger budget, more potential headaches.
That included a prima donna leading lady who couldn’t get her ass on set at the
designated hour. Garrett refused to start leaking money on day one.

“You want me to coax America’s sweetheart of the week
out of her trailer?”

“You’d never get past her PA,” Garrett told
Hamish. “Lynne Cornish thinks one hit movie and a few magazine covers give
her the right to make her own rules. She’s going to find out on this movie set,
there is only one set of rules — mine.”

“She has a contract.”

“Wyatt’s standard contract. She signed it. Her mistake
if her lawyers didn’t read the fine print.”

Contracts were fluid.
Before
they were finalized.
Each actor, depending on their box office leverage, could get their people to
make demands, tweak the perks. The basics were non-negotiable. Under no
circumstance, barring personal injury, a death in the family, or a genuine nervous
breakdown, was an actor allowed to delay production. Once, you were warned.
Twice, bye-bye. As far as Garrett’s big brother was concerned, potential loss
of a lead actor was the reason they paid huge insurance premiums. It hadn’t
happened to Garrett. Not yet. There was always a first time.

Tim Bodine, Lynne Cornish’s PA, waylaid Garrett before he
was halfway to her trailer.

“Lynne isn’t feeling well.”

“She was fine an hour ago.”

When she was flirting with every man on the set. Apparently,
Ms. Cornish could drag herself to any early breakfast if adoring men were
present. She found out quickly that Garrett wasn’t among them. Whether her
sudden
illness
was a result of a hurt ego or plain laziness, he didn’t
give a damn. Starting right now, Lynne Cornish needed to know who was boss.

“Does she need a doctor?”

“Nooo.” Tim drew out the word.

The PA’s lack of concern only ratcheted up Garrett’s
annoyance.

“Five minutes.”

“What?” Tim yelled at Garrett’s retreating figure.
When there was no response, the man hurried to catch up. “She can’t make
it in five minutes. Lynne doesn’t think today will work for her. At all.”

Garrett rounded on the smaller man. He topped him by at
least eight inches. Tim was slight, Garrett muscular. Yet that wasn’t what had
the PA stepping back several feet. It was the look in Garrett’s steely eyes.

This man exuded confidence. Strength, both physical and
psychological, radiated from his core. You didn’t mess with Garrett Landis. Not
if you had half a brain.

“She was looking a little better when I left her
trailer,” Tim said, clearing his throat. “She wanted to speak with
you.
Privately
.”

Well, shit. Garrett didn’t see that coming. Lynne made it
clear, early on –she was interested. He made it equally clear he wasn’t. End of
story. They would have a friendly, professional relationship. Finding out his
beautiful leading lady was angling for more didn’t hold the thrill it once had.
It made Garrett… tired. His personal life was full of enough turmoil — he
didn’t need the added drama of an on-set romance.

“I don’t have the time, or inclination, Tim.”

To Garrett’s surprise, the PA blushed. In Hollywood, that
ability was knocked out of a person fast.

“I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Then Lynne will be out of a job. How long do you think
you’ll last after that?”

Tim Bodine looked like a smart man. One capable of cajoling
his uncooperative employer. Garrett didn’t care what it took to get his star in
front of the camera as long as it happened. Immediately.

“Five minutes?” Tim asked, a little panicked.

“I’ll give you ten.”

Garrett wondered if it was too late to get out of feature
films. Animation. That sounded good. No location shoots. Voice-over actors
happy to skip wardrobe fittings and hours in the makeup chair. A little
direction on his part. Mostly setting the scene. One or two takes. Right now,
it sounded like heaven.

“What’s the word?” Hamish asked him.

“Bitch?”

“Any chance she’ll be joining us in the near
future?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Garrett looked around. They were ready to go. Cameras primed,
leading man looking as impatient as Garrett felt. At least he’d lucked out with
Paul McNally. He was a professional through and through. No power plays. No
outlandish demands. There was no propositioning the director. Paul’s first job
was a small part in a Caleb Landis production. He was a great actor. More
importantly, he was a friend. Garrett felt lucky to work with him.

“Once again, you’ve lived up to your reputation,”
Hamish said with admiration. “You really are a miracle worker.”

Garrett looked over his shoulder. Lynne Cornish. In full
costume and makeup. A little pouty. He could work with that. It complimented
the scene.

“Tell them five.”

“We’re shooting in five minutes, people,” Hamish
called out Garrett’s directions. “Pee now or forever hold it.”

Garrett moved over to camera A, checking the shot. Perfect.
This was his world. He knew what he was doing. No one questioned his authority
or failed to jump at his command. Unlike his personal life, his professional
life stayed on a clear path.

Unwanted, a quick image filled his mind. A woman. In the
shadows. Frustrated by the intrusion, Garrett shook it off. He called for the
actors to take their marks. He wouldn’t let her get in his head today. He had
hundreds of people depending on him to stay focused. Rolling his shoulders a
couple of times, he looked around to make sure everyone was ready.

The clapperboard was struck. Garrett felt the familiar
energy begin to build. With a sigh of satisfaction, he opened his mouth.

“Action!”

 

THE ROOM WAS perfect.

Even so, Jade Marlow made one final inspection. The ballroom
sparkled. The floors were polished, the tables set with an eye towards casual
elegance. People would be amazed how much work it took to achieve
casual
.
Jade knew. This was what she did. This was her world. It was the only place she
had total and complete control.

“Ms. Marlow. The shrimp arrived.”

“Thank you, Teresa. Crisis averted.”

“We had a backup plan,” the caterer laughed.
“Shellfish can be iffy, even when delivered on time. I brought twice as
many of the stuffed mushroom caps. Who would care if we had four hors d’oeuvres
instead of five?”

My father
. Jade kept her hands from clenching; her
teeth were another matter.
Relax your jaw, Jade
.
The last thing you
need, with a soon to be house full of guests, is
a headache
. Jade
took a deep breath, then another. Not so long ago, breathing in and out
wouldn’t have been enough. Certain triggers, like the thought of her father’s
disapproval, required a pill. Those little pink ones. The ones she flushed down
the toilet a month ago. She kept that bit of information to herself. As far as
her father was concerned, a medicated Jade was a superior Jade.

Those days were over. Jade was getting stronger. Inch by
inch. Second by second. That meant she filled the prescription on a regular
basis. Then disposed of them. She continued the weekly visits with her
parental-approved therapist. Then went to see her own the next day.

Slowly but surely, she was regaining control of her life.
Without her father’s knowledge. She wasn’t strong enough to fight his
objections. Not yet. Soon. When she was, she would tell him to mind his own
business. She would pack her bags and leave his home. A little apartment
sounded nice. For the first time in her life, she would have a place all her
own.

Unbidden, she wondered what Garrett would think of her
plans. Not that it mattered, she assured herself. She would never again live
her life for someone else’s approval. When she made her move, it would be for
herself. Period.

“Jade. Darling.”

“Melinda.”

Jade put on her best hostess face. Melinda Hurst was not a
friend or acquaintance. More like a viper. Seeking out weakness then striking.
Her greatest pleasure was the pain of others. For some time, Jade had been her
favorite target.

I can do this
, Jade thought.
Nothing she says
matters. They are only words
.

“That dress,” Melinda gave the garment a long,
thorough look. “Last year’s Donna Karan?”

Is that your best first shot
?
You’re slipping,
Melinda.

“This year’s Jonas Westgate.”

“Oh, God,” Melinda cackled. “Not one of your
projects
.
Jade, darling; it’s one thing to give a bit of seed money to an up-and-coming
designer. Take my advice. Think again before you wear one of his creations. The
cut, the color. He obviously didn’t have any clue how to drape your… How shall
I put this? Your unfortunate figure.”

A few months ago, those words would have hit their mark. The
slightest criticism would crush Jade’s almost non-existent self-esteem. Now?
Part of her wanted to run. Or cry. Hide. Pull off the dress and burn it. That
wasn’t going to happen. Jade was stronger now. Maybe stronger than she’d ever
been. The dress was fabulous. She knew it. The soft green complimented her pale
skin, brought out the emerald in her hazel eyes. Her
unfortunate figure
looked slim and elegant. The flowing material accented rather than detracted.
She had few curves. Though her painfully thin form was gradually filling out
again, Jade knew she looked her best. Melinda wasn’t going to take that away
from her.

“I thought about wearing a sack, Melinda.” Jade
paused, looking the other woman up and down. “Where did you get your
dress?”

Jade moved away, leaving Melinda to decide if mousy Jade
Marlow had just cut her down a few notches.
Damn right, I did
. Jade did
a mental fist pump. It might be time to stop measuring her progress in baby
steps. She was up on her feet. Her legs were steady. Soon she would be back to
her old self. Then she could work on improving
that
model. So much work
to do. Jade pulled her shoulders back. She was getting there. She
would
get there.

“Why are you standing here instead of greeting
guests?”

Jade felt her confidence slip. There was one person who
could pull her down. It was going to take a lot longer to get past a lifetime of
thoughtless jabs, barbs, and outright cruelty. You couldn’t overcome
twenty-eight years in a few months.

Her shoulders a little less straight, but no less
determined, Jade turned. The false smile in place. Not that he would know the
difference. Genuine, fake. He never noticed. As long as she was there when he
needed her, like tonight, he didn’t care.

That knowledge once crushed her. Now, Jade saw it as an
advantage. She was gradually slipping away from his control. Before he could
regain his hold on the invisible ropes that bound her to his side, she would be
gone. For good.

BOOK: Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends Book 1)
13.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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