My Double Life: Wild and Wicked (12 page)

“Can you take care of getting her things?” Trey asked the bouncer, who nodded as he continued to fire off directions into the two-way radio.

Amazingly, the distance between me and my colleagues widened. Fawn wasn’t chasing after us to unmask me. Maybe I’d made it through tonight’s debacle without being recognized. Without losing my job.

We neared the exit as another bouncer in a skin-tight muscle shirt approached me with my duffel.

“Kendra said this one is yours.” He thrust the black canvas bag into my arms.

“Thanks,” Trey answered, tipping the guy generously. He also had a bill ready for the head bouncer when the behemoth with no neck opened the back door for us.

The night smog rolled over me, a moist and welcome embrace. Leaving the noise and the throbbing music behind us, we stepped out into the dark. I’d taken a cab here, knowing Trey would meet me. A valet in a white jacket appeared and gave Trey a vehicle, his head briefly bowed.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” He gestured toward the back parking lot, which was smaller than the front. There wasn’t even a valet stand back here, so the guy must have run around from the front to meet us.

“Where’s my SUV?” Trey asked, passing the guy a bill even though he hadn’t done his job.

In L.A., it was wisest to tip all the time—as much money as possible—if you were any kind of celebrity. The last thing you wanted in this town, where image meant everything, was to be denied a favored table.

“It’s just over there, sir.” He pointed again, but a white Escalade rolling to the curb blocked my view. “Your father asked me if I’d wait to bring the car so he could speak to you.”

Beside me, Trey stiffened. I froze. The tinted window on the Escalade came down in a soft swish, and a distinguished-looking older man leaned out to wave at us, his gray cashmere sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal strong forearms.

“Hello, Trey.” He smiled with what might be interpreted as warm affection, but I could feel the tension in Trey’s every muscle as he tried to shelter me with his arm.

He passed me the key to his SUV and took off his jacket with one smooth move. “You don’t have to wait for me,” he murmured as he settled his jacket on my shoulders. Then he took a step toward the Escalade.

“Hello, Dad.”

12

S
O
...I
’
D
BEEN
DISMISSED
.

I lingered behind Trey in the heavy night smog, his Italian silk blazer a sorry excuse for the shelter of his arm, even if it did smell delicious—like him. He said I didn’t have to wait, and judging by the way he stood beside the Escalade without introducing me, he was excluding me from the most significant parts of his life.

Two weeks ago, I would probably have skipped happily over to Trey’s SUV to wait for him, grateful for any fraction of his world he wanted to share. Now? I had a new sense of my own worth and I didn’t feel like standing in the shadows around a guy I really cared about. Especially not once their conversation started to get heated. Trey gestured with his hands and shook his head. Their voices rose, but not enough for me to make out what they were saying.

Through the windshield of the Escalade, I met the elder Fraser’s gaze, his face illuminated an unearthly blue by the dashboard lights. I was a little surprised the well-known producer didn’t have a driver to shuttle him through city traffic, but then Thomas Fraser II had a reputation for being a hardworking man’s man, a self-made multimillionaire. The press loved his rags-to-riches story, a young boy abandoned by his drug-addict mother rising to fame and wealth. It was pure Hollywood.

He must have pointed me out to Trey, because just then Trey turned and noticed me still standing there in the dark. Was it me, or did he look impatient? I willed away the thought and refused to be self-conscious. Was I a part of Trey’s life or not?

Even if the answer was no, I wanted to learn the truth. I couldn’t call myself a strong, independent woman unless I had the courage to know where I stood with the man I’d been spending some very memorable nights with. I would consider this part of my personal transformation. Even if it broke my heart.

Taking a deep breath, I strode closer.

“Hi.” I spoke the word perfectly. Clearly. And with conviction. But I did sort of hope I wouldn’t have to say much more. I thrust my hand through the window of the Escalade even though it proved an awkward angle. “I’m C-Courtney.”

I shivered in an attempt to hide my stutter. People naturally stuttered a bit when they were chilly. Relief disintegrated, however, as I realized that I’d given my real name to someone who’d seen me exit Backstage in a dancing costume. And a domino mask.

Oh. Crap. What had I been thinking to give this man—a man Trey butted heads with constantly—the power to wreck my life? Worse, I’d provided him with the ammunition to hurt Trey through his association with me.

Trey steadied me with an arm around my waist as I rose on my toes to shake hands with his father.

“A pleasure to meet you, Courtney. I’m Thomas.” He said it with the slightest emphasis on the second syllable, a hint of Spanish in his speech. I was pretty sure one of his parents had been Spanish but I couldn’t recall which. His grip was strong and sure as he took my hand, and if he thought it weird that I wore a mask, he said nothing.

He smiled at me, nodding slightly. I would have thought him charming if not for Trey’s brittle stance beside me. I could feel his quiet fury in the tension of his muscles.

“My father was just leaving,” Trey explained, keeping his gaze leveled at his dad. “We’re done here.”

“Consider what I said,” Thomas told him, his jaw set. His expression was the opposite of the warmth he’d shown me. The metamorphosis happened again—in reverse—as the older man turned my way once more. “Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow night, Courtney. Trey will be at a black-tie gala. I’m sure you’d enjoy it.”

I didn’t have time to reply. He gave me a jaunty wave before he leaned back in his seat and edged the car forward. Thankfully, Trey read his dad’s intentions and drew me far enough away that the Escalade didn’t risk running over my toes.

“He seems as interesting as he’s portrayed in the press,” I said diplomatically, not quite sure what else to say with Trey silent beside me.

My initial guess was that he was angry.

Angry his father had invited me to an event that Trey hadn’t plan to include me in? Or was he feeling simple frustration with an overbearing parent? I tried not to take it personally that I’d had to hear about the black-tie gala from his father.

But once again, I had the impression of Trey trying to keep me removed from his public life.

“He’s interesting,” Trey muttered, guiding me toward his SUV. “I’ll grant him that.”

A valet jogged past so he could have the door of the vehicle open for me when I arrived. I put a foot on the running board and propelled myself into the passenger seat, my heart full of mixed emotions. I was still glad that Trey had come to Backstage tonight. So grateful he’d talked our way out of the awkward meeting with my Sphere colleagues. Yet now, I wondered if he was trying purposely to hide me away from the people who mattered in his life. His father was his rival and yet Thomas Fraser knew more about Trey’s whereabouts than I did.

A few minutes later, we were headed west on the Santa Monica Freeway, the traffic thinning as we left downtown behind. I tossed my mask and the blond wig aside, tired of trying to hide who I was behind a facade that didn’t fit. The heavy fringe of my bangs slid out of the clip that had been holding them secure.

“Can I take you to your place?” Trey asked, rolling down the window to let in the damp night air.

“I’d appreciate that.” I couldn’t wait to change out of the dance outfit and put my double life behind me. From now on, I wouldn’t use my inner Natalie Night to bolster myself. My confidence needed to come from within me.

“Sorry I didn’t introduce you to my father right away.” He found the passing lane and accelerated. I didn’t need to turn around to see what he was running from. Obviously, his dad had provided him with some powerful demons.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” He took my hand. Squeezed. “But I had the feeling our conversation was going to be confrontational. Plus, I thought you might rather make a clean getaway. I know you’re concerned about people in your office finding out that you dance and I figured the fewer people you meet, the better.”

“I know.” I nodded, recognizing the wisdom of that caution. “But I was so caught off guard I forgot I even had a mask on.”

“Seriously?” He looked my way, his right eyebrow arching in surprise. The corner of his mouth lifted a fraction.

I liked thinking I could sneak through his armor.

“Seriously!” I smacked my own forehead for emphasis. “A complete space-out on my part. I stood there feeling offended when you told me I could go to the car, never considering you had a great reason for not introducing me until I was already in midsentence with your dad while covered in feathers.”

He was quiet for a long moment as we passed stretch limos and convertibles, motorcycles and delivery vans.

“Is our relationship horribly awkward for you?” I blurted, now feeling tense myself.

“No.” Shaking his head, he seemed to relinquish whatever worries he’d had. He let go of my hand to skim a knuckle up my arm. Even through the silk fabric of his jacket, his touch gave me a shiver. “I just hope it doesn’t turn out to be uncomfortable for you. My father is very well connected. In fact, the only way he knew where I was tonight is thanks to his vast network of friends who are all eager to do him favors.”

“I don’t understand.”

“One of the bouncers at Backstage used to do private security for my father. Apparently, the guy phoned Dad when he saw me walk in tonight.” Trey put both hands back on the wheel as traffic picked up.

I missed the feel of his touch. And right now, I didn’t want to think about how Trey’s well-connected father might make things uncomfortable for me. I was too incensed at the way he treated his son.

“Why wouldn’t he just call you if he wanted to talk to you?”

“He happened to be having dinner nearby, so it wasn’t a big trip for him. But he made the effort to show up at the club because I haven’t been taking his calls,” Trey admitted. “I met with him last week and felt like we’d reached...an impasse.”

I frowned. “Do you mind me asking what he wanted?”

Trey took his time answering as he turned down Interstate 405.

“He wants to bring me back on board with Fraser Films to oversee production of his new movie.”

“After the huge public falling-out you had?” I’d read enough about their rift to understand some of the ramifications, at least from a business standpoint. I’d had to include some of my concerns in my report for Fawn. And now I had to take them into account for Trey’s financial well-being.

“Tough to believe, isn’t it?” Trey shook his head, a lock of dark hair falling over an eyebrow and giving him an air of disrepute that would make any woman sigh. “But that’s just how he operates.”

“Is it the POW film you wanted to do from the start?”

“Of course not. It’s
his
POW film that he just purchased the rights for. And he wants me to develop it with bankable stars and an American sensibility...” Trey shook his head. “It could be a good film. But it’s not my film. And I’m ready to start putting my own stamp on my work.”

“Me too,” I said with a surprising amount of vehemence. “I mean, I want that in my own professional life. To put my stamp on my work.” I felt embarrassed to have jumped in with my own issues while he was talking about his for once. “Sorry to change topics like that. I just totally identify with the need to claim some recognition.”

“Thanks.” He sped up as we got closer to Mar Vista, and that was saying something, because he’d wasted no time leaving downtown behind us. “It means a lot that you understand where I’m coming from. I’ve had people in my life before who really championed my dad, always assuming my father must have my best interests at heart and thinking if I would just knuckle under I could have had the world by the tail right now.”

I debated how to respond to this, because I had the sneaking suspicion the elder Thomas Fraser had his son’s best interests at heart as well. “When you say ‘people,’ do you mean old girlfriends?”

He laughed, a warm sound that danced over my skin like a caress.

“Those too. But I’ve had guys that I thought were friends really take up the old man’s cause. A lot of people are drawn in by his image.”

“I’m taking up your cause,” I assured him. “And not just because you’re paying me to.” I stopped suddenly, hearing the words in my head. “That came out wrong.”

“I know what you meant.” His voice softened, his shoulders relaxing a little for the first time since he’d spotted the white Escalade outside Backstage. “I shouldn’t have put you in such an awkward position—insisting on working with you when we already had a personal relationship.”

“It’s been a good nudge for me, though.” I wasn’t going to have a problem separating work from my personal life. I hoped. “If you hadn’t insisted on working with me, I’d still be stuck in a rut.” As he neared my neighborhood, I pointed out my street. “I’m on Ocean View.”

“I know.” He slowed down as he neared my place. “I did a Google search on you when I was trying to untangle the mystery of Natalie/Courtney.”

“Really?” A thrill shot through me at the thought of him looking for me. Thinking about me.

“Yes. And I searched even more once you started working on my finances.”

“Well that’s just astute business,” I assured him, even though I was a little nervous now. “And what exactly did you find out?”

He put on his left signal light.

“I know you live here.” He correctly indicated my home. “And I know your father signed it over to you on your twenty-first birthday.”

“Well. Technically he sold it to me for a bargain-basement price.” With no interest. I could never have afforded the house otherwise.

“It’s a great place.” Trey turned off the engine before coming around to my side to open my door.

I glanced out toward the street to make sure no one was around. Trey’s jacket covered most of me, but I’d rather not be seen strolling into my house in the dancing outfit and a man’s suit coat.

“My dad is an antiques dealer and my mother is an interior decorator. She helped him out with this house when they were still together.” For all of three years.

But I tried to tell myself the house was like me—one of their few good collaborations.

I slid down into Trey’s waiting arms, my body gliding down his as he lowered me to the ground slowly. Slowly. His eyes raked over me and the hunger that had been banked back at the club flared hot again.

I tingled everywhere at the thought of being with him again.

“I might not be able to fully appreciate the aesthetics of your home tonight.”

“No?” I nipped at his lower lip and he tasted so good I had to close my eyes to savor him.

His hands slid underneath his jacket to smooth down my hips. Hot. Possessive.

“Then I’ll just show you one of the house’s best features and save the rest for another time.”

“You’re the best feature.” His words whispered hotly along my neck, and even though he hadn’t kissed me yet, pleasure smoked through my veins.

“Come on,” I urged, taking his hand to lead him around the back of the house to avoid the porch light and the small street lamp on the far corner of my front yard. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Was I still a little scared that I might be Trey’s secret indulgence? The woman he wouldn’t share with his friends and family? Definitely. But that wasn’t going to stop me from taking this crazy, heated attraction as far as I could.

* * *

T
HIS
WOMAN
HAD
him turned all around.

Sexy as hell one minute. Sweetly vulnerable the next. And underneath it all, smart and funny. Courtney appealed to him on all levels.

Trey followed her down a twisting flagstone path until he spied a blue glow from the backyard. They rounded the corner of the house, dodging crepe myrtles, to find a courtyard with a hot tub and swimming pool tucked between the building’s L-shaped wings. Eight-foot hedges blocked out the neighbors, creating a private oasis. The water of the hot tub flowed over a ledge into the pool, the trickling sound as soothing as any fountain. Lotus flowers floated on the pool’s surface, their flickering glow suggesting battery-operated candles. They must be on a timer or a light sensor.