Authors: Catherine Lane
Amy turned to face him. She would figure out how to fix all this with Simon later.
“Yeah.” She had received a folder two days ago to memorize and then destroy. It held little bits and pieces any girl should know about her boyfriend. Trivial things, like his favorite color, the members of his family, his favorite foods, and the names of Diego’s house staff. Luckily, Amy had always been a quick study, and the mundane facts were easily stored away at the back of her mind.
“We’re just about to get on the plane. What’s up, Paul?” Diego’s voice suddenly echoed on the car’s Bluetooth. Knight must have called him.
”You’re on speaker phone. I’m driving Amy over to your house,” Knight said.
“That’s good news. Hola, Amy.”
“Hi, Diego.”
“We won. I scored.”
“I know. Congrats.”
“We’re just about to board. We can celebrate everything when—”
“Look,” Knight jumped in. “There’s not much time here, and I just wanted you to reconsider the whole sleeping arrangement thing.”
“For the last time, a good Catholic boy would not move his girlfriend, or even his fiancée, into his bedroom before marriage.”
“Maybe, if this was for real. But we want the public to think you’re banging this girl.”
Amy cringed. When had Knight turned into Reggie with better clothes? “Going too far with this pretense is worse than not going far enough. Think what’s on the line here,” Knight continued.
Diego’s voice turned steely. “Paul, I don’t want to discuss this again. I told you this is not up for negotiation. I need my privacy, and so does Amy. I want to go on record that we’re saving ourselves for marriage. Right, Amy?”
“Right.” Amy answered.
“Diego—” Knight started.
“Not negotiating this.”
“Okay…” Knight tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I might be able to spin the good Catholic boy bit. It might even get us more endorsements.”
Amy rolled her eyes; this guy was a machine.
“I’m hanging up now. See you later, Amy.” The line went dead.
“Here.” Knight tossed a square ring box onto her lap.
“What’s this?”
“Your engagement ring.”
“When did we become engaged? I thought we were waiting?”
“Change of plans. We ran it through a super-secret focus group, and they thought the time was right.”
“Do I get a say in any of this?” Amy snapped open the box. A large diamond solitaire winked up at her.
“It’s not real, but it’s good quality. No one should be able to tell the difference. Put it on.”
Amy slid the ring on. It fit a little snugly, but then this whole situation was starting to feel a little too tight.
“Let me give you some constructive criticism. I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but you need to act happy,” Knight said. “You’re moving in with your fiancé and you’ve got a huge diamond ring to show off. You’re like a princess living a real fairy tale. Once we get there, that’s the face people want to see. Not some mope.”
“Got it.” And she did. She had signed the contract. Knight and Horowitz were going to get their money’s worth. As soon as the Jag came to a stop outside Diego’s mansion, Amy bounced out of the car with a smile a mile wide. She took in her surroundings with an awe and enthusiasm that became more genuine the more she saw.
Diego lived in the gated community of Hidden Hills in the north-west end of the Valley. The top-notch security was the main draw for the celebrities and sports stars who lived there.
Diego’s house was in the southwest Spanish colonial-style with a terracotta-tiled roof and cream-colored stucco walls covered with bright bougainvillea blossoms. It looked elegant and graceful and at the same time welcoming. A middle-aged couple stood in the shade of the veranda. The man raised his hand casually as soon as Amy emerged from the Jag. The woman had unnaturally red hair that clashed with her purple polo shirt; she stepped forward, her hand outstretched.
“Hi. I’m Tammy,” she said, her voice gravelly and harsh. She pumped Amy’s hand hard. Her gaze raked across Amy, sizing her up. “My. Ain’t you a pretty one, sweetie.”
Amy’s hackles rose. The undercurrent that thrummed from Tammy warned her to keep an eye on this one. According to the information Knight had sent over, Tom and Tammy Winters were live-ins who had joined Diego’s household when he landed the Adidas advertising contract that had transformed his life.
“Thank you. I’m thrilled to be here,” she said.
“This is my husband, Tom,” Tammy said.
Tom stepped forward, his hand also outstretched. He beamed at her, and his smile, unlike his wife’s, ran all the way to his eyes. “I’ll get your bags.”
“I can do that.” Amy started to move back to the car.
Knight popped open the trunk and stood looking at her bags as if they were garbage sacks.
Tammy linked Amy’s arm and pulled her away. “Let the men sort it out. I’ll show you the estate and the apartment where you’ll be staying.”
On the surface the statement was friendly enough, but Amy heard an undertone saying, this is my house and you’re the guest. She played her part and nodded eagerly.
The estate, as Tammy called it, was spectacular. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised if hidden trumpets played a little fanfare as the carved, ornate oak door slowly opened before her. The foyer was breathtaking. Mexican tile ran the length of the room which led to a step-down living area on one side and a wrought iron staircase on the other. A huge vase overflowing with colorful birds of paradise flowers sat on the hall table. Delightful, cool air hit her as soon as she walked in. Her days of sweltering in sport tops and shorts during a heatwave were over. Guilt at leaving Simon to suffer alone shot through her, but she pushed it away.
A soft click-clack came down the hallway, and a little black and white mutt skidded toward her on the tiles.
“Oh my God, is that Dulce?”
Tammy nodded.
“Diego said she was cute, but not the cutest thing ever!” For the first time her role seemed almost natural.
“The name suits her. She’s a very sweet dog,” Tammy said.
As if to prove the point, Dulce climbed up Amy’s leg, and she immediately lifted the dog into her arms. One touch of the soft fur and Amy fell in love for real. It seemed to work both ways. When Amy placed Dulce back on the floor the dog licked her bare ankle and nestled between her feet.
“Diego asked me to show you to your room as soon as you got here. He fixed it up himself.” Tammy led the way into the back of the house. Amy followed with Dulce at her heels.
My room.
She looked at her watch. She wanted to mark the first time when Knight hadn’t gotten his own way.
Tammy trotted up the rear stairway that came off from the huge eat-in kitchen. They entered a hallway and on to a beautiful one bedroom apartment. A furnished living room flowed through to a small, but well-appointed kitchenette. The bedroom was ensuite and completed the living space. Diego’s touch, she gathered, were the white roses everywhere.
“Oh my God. This is unbelievable.” Amy bent over the vase on the breakfast bar and smelled the roses. “These are my favorites, you know.”
“Yes, Diego told me.”
“He did all this for me?”
“Well, the apartment was already here. He designed it for his great-grandmother when he built the gym underneath, but she preferred to stay with her granddaughter instead. So she gave up all this. Can you believe it?” Clearly Tammy didn’t approve.
Amy spun around. She had never lived anywhere so lovely. With perks like this her lies would be easier to tell, making the slippery slope even deadlier. Already she was being seduced. Definitely not a good thing.
The tour continued. Tammy pointed out the apartment over the garage where she and Tom lived. Upstairs, in Amy’s wing, there were another four guest bedrooms. Diego’s suite was more private and tucked away on the far side of the hacienda. Tammy didn’t show her; instead, she waved her hand vaguely toward the rear of the house. They came back through the kitchen and out onto the lush grounds.
The outdoor living space was an entertainment paradise. A huge pool, along with a Jacuzzi, dominated the outdoor space. The main feature was a waterfall cut into a rocky outcrop that supplied a constant cascade of crystal water that sounded beautiful. To the left stood a shaded gallery housing an outdoor kitchen with eating area, and across from that was a sunken fire-pit for stargazing on clear desert nights.
“You can lie in the pool in the summer and watch a movie on the screen that pops down from here.” Tammy pointed to a box in the roof.
“No way.”
“I know. You’ve really hit the jackpot,” she said pointedly, and then indicated a pool house at the far end of the property. “That’s the office. Casey can help you with scheduling and arrangements. If you want to do anything with Diego you need to run it by Casey first.”
“Okay.”
Damn. Who was Casey?
Amy recalled the staff bios.
Oh, yes, the PA!
She hoped he was a little easier to read than Tammy.
Paul Knight pushed the patio doors open and stepped across the pink flagstones to Amy’s side. They both stood at the pool’s edge. He waved his hand theatrically. “Pretty nice spread, huh.”
“You’re telling me. You know that there’s a screen that pulls down and you can watch movies in the pool?”
“Yes.” Knight patted her shoulder patronizingly. “I know. So you’re good?” He looked at his watch as if he were late for a most pressing appointment.
“Yes. I’m good. I can take it from here.”
“Yes, she needs time to settle in.” Tammy grasped Knight by the arm and led him back to the house.
Finally, Amy was alone. Little waves of anxiety lapped at her. So much could go wrong. What if no one actually bought the charade that she and Diego were a couple? What if she couldn’t pull it off? Amy hadn’t seriously considered the fallout if it all blew up in her face. She had already hurt Simon, one of the nicest guys in the world. Now she was meeting the people central to Diego’s life. Paul Knight was wrong. These people would never fall for a cheap trick like this. She was a phony, a cliché who’d sold her soul for a huge paycheck.
Just as the negative thoughts began to overpower her, Dulce trotted up. Her gentle, dark eyes made Amy’s heart melt. She stooped, picked up the little dog, and buried her face into Dulce’s soft coat.
“It’s going to be okay, right, Dulce?” Her voice was muffled against the fur.
“Sorry?” The modulated female voice came from directly behind her.
Amy swung round startled, and Dulce leaped from her arms to run to the stranger. Amy lost her balance, and teetered at the edge of the pool. Her arms flailed out trying to regain her step.
“Careful. Careful!” The woman stepped forward, reaching for her.
Amy grabbed for the proffered hand and missed. Instead, she snagged a handful of T-shirt. They both spun on their heels, teetering in the danger zone.
Dulce yipped frantically.
“My computer!” the woman cried, and in a precision move only a few could have pulled off, simultaneously grabbed Amy and swung her backward onto the tiles. A computer bag was flung at her, catching her in the gut, but she hung on to it. The bag’s owner spiraled gracefully into the pool with a loud splash.
Amy lay on the flagstones, mouth agape, the wind knocked out of her. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” She leaped up, ignoring the stabbing pain in her hip.
Dulce, barking non-stop, raced along the pool’s edge.
The woman bobbed to the surface and started treading water. “Son of a bitch.” She glared at Amy. “Dulce, please. No barking.”
Dulce whimpered, but did as she was told.
Who was she?
“I’m so very sorry.” Amy reached out. “Here. Let me help you.”
“No, thanks.”
Amy flushed at the rejection and instead watched the woman swim toward the pool ladder with slow, easy strokes, and heave herself out. Water poured off of her and the flagstones at her feet turned a deeper shade of rose. Her T-shirt clung to her like a second skin revealing a lean body with high firm breasts. The cotton pants hugged long, muscular legs. Amy tried not to stare, but there was something about the woman that invited it. She stood confident, if sopping wet, and still somehow seemed to be totally in control. A tingle ran through Amy’s stomach and settled in her groin.
The woman ran a hand through her short blonde hair and then shook it. Drops of water flew across the patio and Dulce chased the light spray.
“I really am sorry.” Amy moved toward her only to be pulled up by an icy stare that was not at all welcoming.
“My computer. Did it make it?”
“Yes.” Amy handed it over. “Alive and well. That was some move. The spin and throwing the computer bag at me thing.” Amy fell into her easy way that usually won people over in a heartbeat.
“Well, it worked out for you.” The woman wrung out her T-shirt. The action pulled the shirt even tighter over her breasts. “Me, not so much.”
Amy forced herself to look away. Her only hope was that despite knowing Dulce’s name, she was not an integral part of the household. She was going to have trouble keeping her loving eyes on Diego if all she wanted to do was stare at this woman’s chest.
The whooshing noise of the sliding glass patio door brought Tammy to their side. She had a towel in her hands and threw it over the woman’s shoulders. “Casey! What happened?”
“Oh my God. You’re Casey? I thought you were a man.” Amy blurted the words out before she thought about them. She cursed Paul Knight and his paper-thin intel.
“Then you need a lesson in anatomy,” Casey said, as she rubbed the towel through her hair giving herself an attractive tousled look. “Thanks, Tammy.”
“Sorry, but when Diego mentioned his assistant, Casey, somehow your gender never came up.”
Casey cast a questioning look to Tammy as if to ask, who the hell is this idiot?
“I see you have met Amy.” Tammy answered the unspoken question.
Casey stiffened. “You’re Amy?” She glared at her as if she couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah. Please, forgive me. This is not the way I wanted to meet—”
“No worries.” Her tone was light, but her eyes had frozen to a glacial blue. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to get out of these wet things.” She slung the precious computer bag over her shoulder, smiled thinly at Tammy, and headed off with squishy steps to the pool house at the far end of the courtyard.