Starstruck (16 page)

* * * * *

Sarah stood outside Jesse’s estate. How would it be best to
scale the high walls? Attempting to climb the front gate would be risky. It
would not only be noisy, but too visible to passersby…even at night. She
couldn’t chance being seen.

She crept to the side of the property, hiding whenever
headlights approached, and slipped into his neighbor’s yard to search for an
easier way in.

Her heart pumped double-time. She lived for the rush, but
unless she miraculously encompassed the spirit of Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan, it
would be impossible to climb the side walls. The only section of trees that
reached the outer rim was in his neighbor’s backyard, and the very large black
dog residing there didn’t seem to like strange faces peering over the gate.

She would have to find another way in, but it wouldn’t be
tonight.

After creeping along the tree-lined street back to the main
road, she hailed a cab and returned to the hotel. She wasn’t giving up, but
sleep was needed.

Tomorrow was a new day.

Chapter Eleven

The sun beamed down on Sam’s face like a warm blanket.
Jesse’s new silver BMW was a smooth ride and he looked good enough to eat as he
relaxed in the driver’s seat. It was a real shame she had a meeting this
morning. Jesse was dropping her off at the Waldorf Astoria, although his ripped
jeans and white button-down shirt were begging her to ditch work and get him
naked instead.

“So what are you actually doing for these people? I know
it’s for a computer game and all, but what do
you
do? You’re an artist,
not a computer geek, right?” He inched forward through the morning traffic near
the busy end of town. “Or are you that too, karate kid?”

“Do I
look
like a nerd to you, Jesse-sun?”

“Sexiest nerd I’ve ever laid…eyes on.”

“You missed your calling, rock star. Forget the music. You
should try stand-up for sure.”

She cackled at his grimace from the unwelcomed nickname.
Those two little words wielded so much power.

“Our job, well,
my
job in this case was to create all
the characters, the background sceneries…pretty much everything that’s visual.
The technical gurus of Johnson & Nichols do all the hard yards and bring it
to life. I just give them something to work with.”

“How do they do that?”

“With outrageously expensive software. They take my drawings
and manipulate them to do whatever they want. It’s actually really cool
watching the art you’ve slaved over come to life like magic. Walking, talking…I
never get tired of seeing that part.”

“But how do you know what to draw in the first place?”

“Well, it’s not always easy. Trust me. Some clients are
better at communicating than others, but mostly I just ask a lot of questions,
look at their ideas, their expectations. I’ve been pretty lucky so far. I guess
you could say I have a knack for picking up on other people’s thoughts so to
speak.”

Jesse stopped at a red light and raised his eyebrow,
smirking. “You can say that again,” he mumbled, accelerating at the first sign
of green.

He squeezed her knee and slid his hand up her leg, his
fingertips seductively teasing the inside of her thigh only to brush back down
and repeat the motion all over again. She shivered under his touch.

“You know, I meant what I said in London, Sam. You really
are very talented. Those paintings on your laptop are amazing.” He turned at
the next corner.

“Which ones, Sherlock?” she teased, more than interested in
his taste.

“They were
all
brilliant. And stop looking at me like
that. I’m being honest and I mean every word.”

Her cheeks were aflame. Praise for her work hadn’t affected
her this way since her first real assignment with Daniel—the first time he’d
given her a substantially large bonus. It was validation, pure and simple, but
those words from Jesse meant so much more.

“Are you blushing? Don’t tell me I’ve
finally
found
the ‘rock star’ antidote,” he coaxed with a grin.

He took advantage of the halted traffic to tip her chin and
steal a kiss. “The first one in your portfolio was my favorite. The one of the
little girl and the angel. Now I don’t know what
arty
people would say,
but I really liked it. The face on the angel was… haunting but loving at the
same time. How did you do that? The expression you captured. It looked so real,
so full of emotion. I’d pay good money for that painting.”

“Yeah, well, that’s only ’cause you’ve got so much to spare.
I doubt the average Joe would though. I’m no Michelangelo.”

“Argh, don’t
do
that!”

“Do what?” she asked, surprised he’d snapped at her.

He pulled the car into the first available space on the side
of the road and looked her in the eye. “Put yourself down! You’re so goddamned
talented. I just complimented you and you turned it straight into a negative.
Why do you do that?”

“Sorry, I—”

“And
don’t
say sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry
for
.
This isn’t anger, Sam, its fuckin’ passion, frustration!”

She stared into his eyes and he flinched, his frown
softening. Lowering his voice, he said, “You really
don’t
know, do you?
I think this Tom of yours… He really fucked with your head, didn’t he?” He
dropped his chin, clasped her hand and stroked it gently.

Sam couldn’t speak. She hadn’t said aloud what she’d been
thinking about Tom only…yesterday was it?

Is it
that
obvious?

She slowly inhaled a deep breath. “He’s not
mine
anymore, Jess.”

“No. Not yours anymore.” He spoke just above a whisper.

“And I’m glad. It took me a long time, but I’m glad. And
you’re right. He did play with my head, but I let him so it’s not all his
fault.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“No, I’m not. This is different. And if I didn’t know
better, I’d think you were psychic. I’ve been mulling it over in my mind a lot
lately, especially these past few days. It’s the little things that make me realize
how different I am away from him. It makes me sad to think of how much time I
wasted. So many experiences and opportunities I let pass by. But in the end, I
believe I needed to go through it all and I can’t resent Tom anymore. I figure
he doesn’t know any better and that makes me sad too. He couldn’t help what
happened. That’s just the way he is. I don’t love him and I’m not so sure I
ever really did, but I do care for him. As much as I don’t want to, I probably
always will.”

“Did he ever touch you, Sam? Did he hurt you?”

A blind man could’ve seen the rage building inside the
beautiful specimen of a man beside her. His shoulders hunched as his fingers
dug into the leather steering wheel. His body was tense, but his words were as
calm as still water.

“
No
!
Never
! I
can
look after myself,
Jesse, and I’d never let a man hit me. But if he ever did, he wouldn’t get a
second shot. No, Tom hurt with his words, his actions, even his inactions.
Everything was a constant power struggle with him…everything. How much money I
made, the food I ate, the clothes I wore, my friends, my family…even sex. His
words were the worst though. He was a master with them. He knew just what to
say to make me feel bad about myself. He could turn anything around and make me
think it was my fault. I’d wear a nice dress to a barbeque with his friends.
You’ve seen my clothes, Jesse. I’m not into flashy or slutty, but by the time
we got home that’s exactly how he’d made me feel. And he didn’t like anyone
else paying me attention, especially other men. He’d even get jealous over
family, like my cousins for fuck’s sake. How stupid is that?”

“I wanna break his legs. It’s still abuse, however you look
at it.”

“Well, I
will
be abused big-time if I’m late to this
meeting…again.”

“Oh
shit
! Sorry.” He pulled into the flow of traffic.
“See how easily you distract me, woman.”

They didn’t speak for several minutes. She let the cool
breeze dry the tears that had welled but didn’t fall. Jesse seemed deep in
thought, his eyes on the road.

“Sam, I want that painting. Sell it to me.”

“Really, Jess, now you’re just saying that. Don’t be silly.”

“I want
that
painting. You still have it, don’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“No. No buts. I’ll pay whatever you want for it. Just name
your price.”

“Really? Well, if you’re that keen I might be able to come
up with some type of payment plan for you.” She grinned, truly touched he
seemed to care about her and her work.

“I mean it, Sam. I’d want it even if I didn’t know it was
yours. It’s incredible.”

“We’ll see if you still feel the same way when you get the
bill, shall we?” She sniggered.

“Ah, there she is. There’s the woman I know and love.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she hoped her disquietude
wasn’t showing on her face. Of course he didn’t mean it literally, but hearing
those words leave his lips affected her more than she cared to admit. She
needed to change the subject.

“Oh, which reminds me, we’ll need to discuss the contract
soon. I need to have some idea of what you want before I go home.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinkin’ about that too. When you know more
about your schedule I’ll set up a time so you can meet the band. We’ll sort
somethin’ out before you have to go.” He pulled up outside the famous hotel
where Sam was to meet her colleagues.

“This is me, huh?” She glanced up at the building.

“I’ve put my number in your phone.” He leaned in and kissed
her goodbye.

“Okay, I’ll call you when I can. Have a good day, dear,” she
said, trying to execute a good ol’ American accent.

She got out of his car, gently closed the door and walked to
the entrance of the building. She gave him one last look over her shoulder
before going through the main doors.

He smiled with his eyes and just the corner of his mouth.

My God, how does he do that? He can make me wet with one
sexy goddamned smile.

* * * * *

Jesse couldn’t draw his eyes away until Sam entered the
building and completely disappeared from sight. “Who do you think you’re
kiddin’, woman? Mrs. Cleaver, my ass!” He pulled back into the morning traffic
with a hearty grin.

He arrived at Rick’s place a little after nine. Within a
heartbeat of pulling his keys from the ignition, he was met by Rick racing out
the front door to greet him.

“Man, where the hell have you been? You’re not answering my
calls, not returning messages. What gives, dude?”

“I’ve been busy, that’s all. What? Can’t live without me for
a few weeks?”

Jesse swung a brown leather knapsack over his shoulder and
Rick barreled into him with a brotherly hug before pushing Jesse into his
abode.

“Nope. Not buyin’ it, bro’. Somethin’s up. I can smell it a
mile off and you reek. It’s not like you to disappear without calling me so
what’s really goin’ on?”

Jesse laughed. “You’re an asshole.”

Rick was an interrogator by nature and did so unashamedly.
Jesse followed his lead into the kitchen where he discovered breakfast
preparations were in full swing. He accepted the welcoming hot cup of coffee
Rick slid across the counter.

“Do you forget who you’re talkin’ to? Spill your guts now,
Maurello. Who is she?”

Jesse’s mouth dropped. He shouldn’t have been surprised. His
best friend was never one to be anything but blunt…and observant of late.

“And don’t bother tryin’ to think up some bullshit to spin
me either. Who did you meet in London?” he demanded, his voice a little louder.
He turned away and poured some pancake batter into the frying pan.

“Fuckin’ internet.” Jesse sighed. News traveled so much
faster these days. He missed the times when he got to tell his business before
the whole world already knew and had written several blogs on the subject.

“Well, seeing as psycho-bitch was tryin’ to knock my door
off its hinges yesterday, yeah, I mighta checked the online gossip sites. So
sue me, fuckhead. Shit, she drilled me for ages, Jess, about you and your new
mystery lady. She wouldn’t believe I didn’t know what the hell was goin’ on.
And she really is bat-shit crazy, man. You should have seen the look she got in
her eyes right before I closed the door on her fake-tanned ass. Kinda freaked
me out, to be honest.” His eyes drifted to the far wall, slightly glazed over
for a moment. He shivered.

“Fuck, man, I hope you’ve got your new lady locked up
somewhere tight. Becky’s on the warpath, bro, and for once I’m actually glad
I’m
not
you, fugly.” Rick dished out more pancakes before handing Jesse
a plate and then sliding a bottle of maple syrup and a small dish of butter
across the table.

“Fugly? You’re the fucking ugly one, dipshit.
Fuck,
Rick, what am I gonna do about Becky? I just can’t seem to get rid of her. She
must have seen pictures of me and Sam ’cause I got a text from her not long
after I got back home. She wasn’t happy. She’s acting as if we’re still
together, for fuck’s sake! Nothing I’ve said has sunk into that peroxide head
of hers. It’s been
two
months
since we split. What’s wrong with
this picture?”

He buried his head in his hands—the first sign of defeat.
This wasn’t like him. He was a fighter, not one to back down…ever.

“There’s more to this than you’ve been letting on, isn’t
there?” Rick said.

A fresh wave of guilt crashed over him. Jesse hadn’t fully
confided in his best friend, hadn’t told him everything that transpired with
Becky during the last few months they were together.

To say Rick was elated when Jesse broke it off was an
understatement, and a small part of him didn’t want to share all the details,
give Rick the opportunity to say “I told you so”.

He’d always been there for Rick, day or night, no matter how
sticky—or illegal—the situation and his friend only wanted to return the favor.
But Jesse had never liked asking for help, especially when it concerned his
private life.

“So…Sam, eh? Is that her name? Well, well, well. Spill,
brother. Who is she? How did you two lovebirds meet and does she have a hot
naïve younger sister or two?” Jesse’s cheeks heated, and by the smarmy grin on
Rick’s face, he was clearly enjoying the fact he’d made Jesse blush so
easily—another rarity.

Son-of-a-bitch!

“You saw her, didn’t ya? It was all over the UK tabloids
when I left.”

“Yeah I saw you with a hot little number in a green dress,
but
who
is she?” Rick bounced his fork on his plate like one half of a
drum roll. Highly annoying.

Impatient bastard…

Jesse sighed but was unable to completely hide his smile.
“Her name’s Samantha Raven. She’s thirty-one, gorgeous, a graphic designer.
Lives in Sydney, no kids, never married. Did I mention she’s gorgeous? She’s
fairly tall,
extremely
creative
and
musical. Haven’t heard her on
a drum kit yet, but I would bet she’d blow your ass out of the water, Ricky,
old son.”