First Take (Star-Taken) (19 page)

BOOK: First Take (Star-Taken)
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W
hen she turned the corner to her block, thankfully, no cameraman loomed. She hadn’t been looking forward to seeing a picture of her in all her sweaty glory gracing the cover of some wag rag. No matter what Stephen said, it was impossible to not look at those things when they sat right next to the checkout lane. On rubbery legs, Rachel climbed the stairs to the stoop, opened the door then made the slow trek upstairs to her apartment, her shins and ankles burning a protest at the additional abuse.

Of course her phone was ringing when she unlocked her
apartment door. With a sigh, she entered the air-conditioned apartment, tugging off her top as she went. She draped it over the back of one of the chairs in the little alcove off the kitchen holding a small table for two then picked up her phone off the counter.

She didn’t recognize the number or the area code
. Not unusual given that her business number forwarded to her mobile and not all her clients were based in New York. Walking toward the wardrobe where she kept her towels, she said. “Hello. This is Rachel Harrington speaking.”

“Hey, Rach.
” Stephen’s voice rolled through the phone. “Becca told me you called. This is her phone, since I haven’t been able to meet up with her yet. Where’ve you been? I’ve been calling for the last thirty minutes.”

Was he going to get all caveman and hold her accountable for every second of her day now? Shoving aside the
irrational thought, she said, “I went for a run.” One of the many things he had yet to find out about her. “Life’s been a little crazy, you know. I needed to get back to my regular routine.”

As she opened the wooden cabinet, he said,
“Well, that’s good.” He paused.

And of course, he
’d taken her comment at face value instead of reading the hidden “I’ve got a life of my own” message. Though maybe that was because he hadn’t been going all caveman on her in the first place.

“I was worried you’d freaked out
about Becca answering my phone,” he spoke slowly, like he was trying to navigate a verbal minefield.

Did he think she had been angry with jealousy and avoiding his call? While she might have been a little green when she heard Becca’s voice, once the woman had explained who she was, Rachel had accepted her words as truth. Not that she needed to admit any of that to Stephen.

After grabbing a hand towel, Rachel swiped her face and chest. Why did he bring out her irrational side? She was normally pretty level-headed. “I was confused, but she went to extra pains to ensure I didn’t think the wrong thing. She’s very sweet.”

His breath blew into the phone. “Yeah. She’s a good friend.
We’ve known each other forever. I think you’ll like her.”

T
he warm fuzzies swept through Rachel as she wiped the back of her neck. He wanted to introduce her to his friends. “I’m sure I will.”


So, how far do you run?”

Walking over to the AC unit, she said,
“I do an hour, so five miles give or take.”

“We’ll have to go together when I get back, though I generally like to
run early in the morning.”

The cool air of the window unit blew across her skin, drying the remaining perspiration.
“That’ll give the cameraman who was hanging outside my house a great photo op.” She snorted, stepping away from the AC to drop the hand towel on her desk. “Then they’ll label me your workout buddy. But yeah, I prefer mornings, especially in the summer. I just needed to clear my head after the weirdness of this afternoon.”


Did the cameraman have something to do with the weirdness? What’d you say to the guy?” Stephen asked cautiously.

Was he nervous about what kind of picture the guy had gotten?
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t standing on one foot reciting the alphabet backward or anything crazy. He stopped me on the way out for my run, and I didn’t even answer his questions.” Rachel picked up the glass of water on her desk and took a long drink.

Relief was evident in Stephen’s
voice when he asked, “What questions?”

Placing the cup on its coaster, she said,
“I don’t recall exactly, something along the lines of why you needed a software developer. They think you’re up to some new secret project.”

Without missing a beat, he replied,
“I am. I’m cracking the code on how many ways I can make you come.”

She
couldn’t help but laugh. She enjoyed his quick wit. “And you’re a very good code breaker.” Despite her earlier resolve to steer the conversation away from sex, a very large part of her wanted to see where he’d take the conversation. Besides, it was still early. They’d probably have another opportunity to talk later that evening.

His hum vibrated through the phone to tickle her ear.
“Though some might call me a tease.”

She shook her head. “I’d be more embarrassed about that if Becca hadn’t told me that you’ve been picking out and handling all my presents yourself. I feel kind of sad for the other women in your life if that’s the case.”

“First off, there is no other woman, much less women. Nor has there been for a while. Secondly, Becca talks too much. Maybe the two of you shouldn’t meet.”

Rachel laughed. “Well if she lives in
LA, we probably won’t meet anytime soon.”

“She does
, though she flies to New York every couple of months to visit her boyfriend.”

Wrinkling her nose, Rachel said,
“That sounds complicated.” Though was it any more complicated than what she and Stephen were doing?

“It’s part of the business.”

“Yeah, I’m finding that out.” Disquiet softened her voice. After all, they’d been in the same city fewer days than they’d been apart. Would that be how a their relationship went as well, a stolen weekend here or there with only phone calls to keep them going between?

“Second thoughts?”

Second, third, fourth and fifth.
Instead, she answered, “Is the present I got today supposed to help alleviate the loneliness?”

Whoa, where did that come from?
She hadn’t intended to say it. Hell, she hadn’t even known she felt it.


Are you lonely, Rachel?”

Sudden tears clogged her throat, and she swallowed hard before saying, “I’m fine. Maybe a little homesick after all the family time of the past couple of weeks.” Though she’d never felt this way after returning from Texas before. Normally she was relieved to be away from all the craziness. With a sigh, she pulled out her desk chair and sat. The air blowing from the AC tickled the back of her neck.

Long moments of silence passed before she remembered Stephen hadn’t had a family since he was sixteen. Discomfort left her squirming. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry I can’t be there for you.”

She picked up the snow globe from the family vacation to Colorado Springs when she was ten and shook it. Was that why Stephen felt the need to care for others, because he hadn’t had anyone to care for him? Emotion made it impossible to speak.


So, was there any other weirdness beside the cameraman?”

Apparently she wasn’t the only thinking it was time for a subject change. She cleared her throat then said,
“I’m sure it was nothing. However, if you haven’t already arranged for tomorrow’s gift, could you make sure it’s something that won’t be delivered using UPS?” She wasn’t interested in any more attention from John.

“No problem,” His voice went from casual to serious as he asked, “But what did the guy do?”

She shrugged. Now that she thought about it, maybe she’d overreacted. “He just made me uncomfortable. He called me by my name, claimed he was from Texas, said he was trying to be an actor, asked what I did. I don’t know. It was all just weird. Then to come out of the building and run into the cameraman, it was too much.”

“Look, Rach, he was either paid by the cameraman to ferret
out as much information from you as possible, or he called the guy and tipped him off. Stuff like that happens. Those are the people who give—what did you call them?—wag rags their information. You’ve gotta ignore them.”

She blew out a heavy breath, ruffling her bangs.
The playful feathering didn’t hold the same joy it once had. While Stephen’s presence in her life brought her countless orgasms, it also added a layer of complicated emotions. “Yeah, I’ve already determined the same thing.”

“But?”

But if he wasn’t in her life, then the paparazzi wouldn’t be interested in her. The idea that every person she met from now on might be potentially selling a bit of her life was…disturbing. And that wasn’t being irrational. Stephen had just said as much. How did she feel about never being able to trust another person? She couldn’t share an answer she didn’t have. “But nothing. I should go. I need to hop in the shower.” Now that the sweat from her run had dried, she was a sticky mess, which magnified her discomfort over everything.

Frustration was evident in his voice when he said,
“I don’t want to leave the conversation like this.”

“I
t’s fine.
I’m
fine.” And physically she was. “Go do your thing. We’ll talk later.”

Though he said, “Okay,” his voice didn’t sound as if it were.
“But will you do me a favor?”

Anything
was her first thought, leaving her shaken. Needing to lighten the mood, she said, “Okay, but I refuse to use any of those toys without you.”

He groaned. “I’m trying to be serious, Rach.”

Wanting to stick her tongue at him, she settled on a heavy sigh. “I know.”

“If you feel threatened by anyone, call the police.
Will you do that?”

“Can
do.” But did that include a threat that involved him? Because she was fast realizing a long-term relationship with Stephen might be one to her mental well-being.

“We’ll talk later.”

Rachel couldn’t name the emotion in his voice, and given how drained she felt, didn’t dare speculate. “Have a good evening.” After disconnecting the call, she powered off her phone.

She had some serious thinking to do.

 

~ * ~

 

 

SEVEN
TEEN

 

 

 

The buzzer sounded and Rachel started. She took one last glance at herself in the mirror.
You can do this, Rach.
With a nod, she smoothed the hair around her face then headed for the door.

It was Saturday and Stephen was back in town, but instead of happiness and anticipation zinging through her blood, sadness and anxiety turned her stomach and choked her throat. She’d decided to end
things with him, though it hadn’t been until her run this morning that she’d concluded breaking up would be best for her. The amazing sex wouldn’t last forever, and while he let her know in a dozen different ways every day that he was thinking of her, surely that would stop with time as well. If she’d shed a couple of tears over the decision, then they’d gotten lost in the usual perspiration that decorated her face during her run.

Yes, all her previous relationships had been boring and staid, but the reason she’d put up with them for so long was because she didn’t like being alone, at least not once she grew re-accustomed to sharing her life with someone. If she decided to
pursue a relationship with Stephen though, how often would he be around? Not very, judging not only by the past two weeks but also his own words and the evidence of his friend Becca’s ongoing long-distance relationship.

She pushed the button to
unlock the house door. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened her front door and waited. She knew her limits. She wouldn’t be happy with a relationship where one person was gone half the time or more. Some couples might thrive on that, but she couldn’t be part of that kind of couple. And even if she could, being suspicious of everyone’s motives and not being able to interact with the world in a normal way lessened the number of people she could use as support when Stephen was away and she felt lonely. There was her family, but they were half a continent away.

When the head of a black-haired man cleared the banis
ter, she frowned. The guy reached the landing and faced her. Wearing a black suit, white tie and black shoes, he resembled a town car driver. “Ms. Harrington?”

She grabbed the door knob behind her, ready to hop back into the safety of her apartment. The guy
didn’t step forward and still stood a good twelve feet away, but she didn’t relax. Just because he looked like a town car driver didn’t mean he was; and besides, Stephen was supposed to come here. Was he downstairs waiting in the car? “Yes.”

“Mr. Raymond sent me to pick you up
.”

She frowned. When
she ended things, she’d rather be in her home than wherever Stephen had sent this guy to take her. “Where is he?”

“He’s at his place
, ma’am. I have instructions to take you there.”

Stephen
hadn’t called her with the change in plans, and while the timing was right, she wasn’t going off with some stranger on his word alone. “Okay. Just give me a minute to get my things.” She retreated into her apartment and silently slid the lock home. Then she retrieved her phone and dialed Stephen.

He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Rach. Did Thomas pick you up yet?”

“Well, he’s standing outside my apartment, but did you seriously think I’d just get in a car with a man I don’t know?” She didn’t bother hiding her irritation. The extra bit of emotion would carry her through what she had to do. “I thought you were coming over here.”

“I have a surprise for you.”

And I have a surprise for you.
Somehow she didn’t think their two surprises would go together. She sighed. “You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”

He laughed. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“True, but haven’t you given me enough?” Besides, he’d already gifted her with lingerie and sex toys, what other items for the bedroom were left? Because, in the end, wasn’t that all there was between them? Her efforts to steer the conversation away from sex the past couple of nights had failed spectacularly. The throbbing between her legs was testament to that. Though she admitted she’d been greedily storing up memories for future lonely nights.

“Babe, I’d give you the world if I could.”

A lump lodged in her throat. If not for the “babe,” she’d be a sobbing mess. As it was, she couldn’t break up with him now, not over the phone, not after those words, even with the “babe.”

Though doing it face to face may not be the wisest decision either
, Rach, especially after those words.

And i
f he touched her, she wasn’t certain her resolve wouldn’t weaken. But her parents had always told her, “If you have to be the bearer of bad news, then you should have the decency to look the receiver in the eyes.”

Swallowing hard dislodged the lump, but her throat still ached with emotion.
Ignoring common sense, she said, “Okay.”

“See you in a few.”
The line disconnected.

She slid the phone in the back pocket of her jeans. After
tucking her license, a credit card, some cash, and her key in various pockets, she exited her apartment and locked the door. Facing Thomas, who still stood at the top of the stairs, she said, “I’m ready.”

He dipped his head
then turned and headed downstairs. Once on the sidewalk, she slid into the backseat while Thomas held the door. Settling on the leather, she wondered where exactly Stephen lived. He had mentioned it was nearby, but that still covered a lot of area.

When the car pulled up in front of one of the high-end apartment buildings complete with doorman
near the Hudson River, her mouth dried. Not that she was intimidated by the wealth. Most of her clients were multi-millionaires. But Stephen was so down-to-earth she forgot he was probably a member of the one-percent. That was the problem: she forgot all of her cares and concerns when talking to him, much less when he was around. What would happen after she lost herself completely in him? She’d wake up one day and realize she didn’t know who she was anymore. No, ending things now, before that could happen, was for the best.

The doorman stepped up to the car and opened her door. “Thank you,” she said while attempting to tip Thomas.

He smiled, meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror. “There’s no need for that, Ms. Harrington. It’s been taken care of.”

Of course.
She offered a small smile and nodded. Stephen took care of everything. She slid out of the car and headed to the building. He
could
deliver her the world, or at least the things she might want. She’d never been materialistic, but if she were the mercenary sort, she could see latching onto him.

Her step faltered. Ha
d a woman taken advantage of him that way? Curiosity turned to anger. Why were there people like that in the world? Maybe that’s why Stephen liked her company—she’d never shown any interest in his money or his fame.

As
Rachel entered the lobby, a female concierge greeted her. “Good evening, Ms. Harrington. Mr. Raymond is expecting you.”

Rachel started. How did the woman know who she was?
It probably had something to do with the town car. “Thank you.” Though she still had no idea what floor or the apartment number.

“Apartm
ent 12A,” the woman answered to Rachel’s unspoken question.

And that was the kind of service money could buy. “Thank you,” Rachel said not knowing what else to say. S
he headed to the elevator bank. What would it be like to be surrounded by people who anticipated your every need and answered your questions before you could even ask them? Seemed like that kind of thing could leave a person feeling isolated. She jabbed the Up button and a door slid open with the softest
swish
. Was Stephen lonely too? Her heart ached at the thought.

She stepped into the car and hit 12.
The car sailed to its destination. Everything ran so smoothly here. At least he wasn’t in the penthouse. That would just make the whole experience that much more surreal. Though couldn’t that word apply to her entire relationship with Stephen?

After
exiting the elevator, Rachel took a moment to get her bearings. A long hall extended to each side. A small placard directed her to the left for 12A, and she followed the instruction. When she arrived at the door, she hesitated before knocking. Could she go through with it? Was she crazy to want to end things? Any number of women would probably kill to be where she stood right at that moment. Beyond the fame and fortune though, Stephen Raymond was an amazing and caring lover; but when it came right down to it, Rachel could be interchanged for any of those number of women.

Stephen had focus, but was his attention to her any different than he’d give any other woman in her position? Rachel didn’t think so. This was a temporary relationship, one that would isolate her from the world. She had to protect herself from future desolation, right?

With a decisive nod, she straightened and rapped on the wood then steeled herself against the traitorous reaction her body would no doubt have when Stephen opened the door, assuming he didn’t have a butler. While he didn’t seem the type, he did have a driver, though the man could also be employed by the building.

“Hey there, babe,” Stephen said as the door swung open.
Looking very casual in dark jeans paired with a brown T-shirt and his feet bare, he stepped back and gestured to his left. “Come on in.”

The “babe” underscored Rachel’s belief she was one of any number of women
, though part of her wondered why he’d reverted to using it today of all days. The past week, he’d called her by name during their phone conversations. With renewed certainty, she crossed the threshold then paused and took in the layout before her. Were the walls seriously done in large marble tiles that matched the floors? She walked a few steps forward and the door shut behind her.

Then Stephen’s hand was
warm on her lower back and he was at her side. She fought her body’s reaction to lean into him as he said, “This way.”

He led her to the first doorway on the left, though before they walked through it, she caught a glimpse of a spacious room
at the end of the hallway with thick, square columns done in the same marble used in the hall and floor-to-ceiling windows. Then she faced the room they’d entered and her jaw dropped. More floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond them, the sunlight glistened off the water. “Is that Riverside Park?” During the car ride, she’d known they were heading toward the Hudson, but still, she’d never before had a bird’s eye view of the park and river beyond.

“Yeah.”
He turned to her with a grin. “Nice, right? The view is one of the main reasons I rented this place.”

She noted the word
“rented.” This was temporary. Maybe New York was temporary. Maybe she was also meant to be temporary. Maybe that was what was behind the reversion to “babe”—he thought he’d bought her place in his bed for the moment. Irritation crawled up her spine, strengthening her resolve. “We need to talk.”

Then she saw the table
and her knees went weak. Candles stood like sentries over a meal. Candlelight flickered, giving a glow to the red wine in clear crystal glasses. A roast bird of some sort occupied the center of the setting and various side dishes framed the plate of fowl. “What is all this?”

He
folded her into his arms, their bodies touching from chest to thigh. Heat flared to life despite her attempts to tamp the desire. Leaning back, he met her gaze. “This is the dinner that got postponed by Houston.” Then, resting his forehead against hers, his nose brushing hers, he said, “I can’t believe how lucky I was to meet you at the movies.”

His lips caressed hers
as he spoke, and she fought a shiver at the feathery touch. “That night was so amazing, and not just the sex. Though, the sex is hot.” He pressed his hips into hers and the hard ridge of his erection reinforced his words. “But your smile, your honesty, all of it had me wanting more time with you. This is it. This is the night I wanted, a leisurely dinner over which to talk and laugh.”

He stepped away
and she had to catch herself from falling after him. As it was, she had to remind herself to breath. The man knew how to deliver emotion-charged words.

Holding out his hand,
Stephen said, “So, let’s eat and talk.”

She hesitated, glancing around the room. A large kitchen sporting high-end appliances lay to her left while to her right was a sitting area with a long
, espresso-colored leather sofa flanked by matching armchairs. The space was larger than her apartment, or so it seemed. Yet that table looked so intimate and his words, his offer, were so seductive. If she took his hand, her determination to end things would waver. Hell, who was she kidding, it already had more wholes than Swiss cheese. Now that she was here, she was certain it had never been very strong to begin with.

“Rach?”

Maybe if he hadn’t said her name, had used “babe” like when he answered the door, she would’ve been able to resist, but he hadn’t. She met his gaze. There was that damn, endearing insecurity reminding her that he was a man, a person just like any other with hopes and dreams and doubts. And damned if she didn’t want to find out what they were.

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