Read Hollywood Scandal Online

Authors: Julie Rowe

Tags: #lawyers, #enemies to lovers, #entangled publishing, #enemies-to-lovers, #romance series, #Romance, #actors, #Los Angeles, #Indulgence, #Julie Rowe

Hollywood Scandal (9 page)

“I’ve stayed there a lot,” Alex said with a grin. “It’s a place that can take you away from the real world. The food is even better.”

“Are we…staying there?” Calla asked hesitantly.

“I think you need some space from all the paparazzi and the hotel takes very good care of their celebrity guests.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” Calla said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Alex snorted. “Today you are.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?” If anything it made her feel worse.

“Because you’re a doctor, not an entertainer. You don’t need public recognition to feel good about yourself. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“You’re not helping, Alex.”

He glanced at her as he drove. “You hate every second of this, don’t you?”

“Hate is too weak a word for how I feel about this crazy, stupid situation.”

“Tonight there is no situation. There’s no war and no poverty left on the planet. Tonight we’re going to suspend the laws of physics and stop time. You’re going to eat some fabulous food, relax, then take a hot bath before enjoying a full, unbroken night’s sleep.” He caught her gaze with his. “Okay?”

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Okay.”

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the hotel and got out of the car. One of the valets caught the keys Alex threw him, while she and Alex went into the hotel.

Two or three of the paparazzi watched them go inside, then drove off.

“They left,” Calla said, unable to keep the high pitch of surprise out of her voice.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve stayed here for similar reasons.”

“With a client?”

“No, myself.”

He’d been hounded by photographers before? Enough that he took refuge at this hotel for the same reason she needed a safe harbor tonight? She followed him to the front desk, where he was greeted by the concierge and two of the other staff members. After a brief conversation with the concierge, he walked away with room key cards.

“Efficient,” Calla said, not sure of how to feel about the staff knowing Alex so well. Maybe it was his grandmother they knew?

“Very,” Alex replied as they walked away. “Hungry?”

“I wasn’t, but I am now.”

“Excellent. The Blvd is one of my favorite places to eat.”

The restaurant was busy, but within moments of arriving they were being seated at a secluded table for two.

Alex ordered wine while Calla pretended not to notice how expensive it was and perused the menu. She didn’t know how she was going to choose.

Alex discussed everything but the day’s events with her. Each time she brought it up, he steered the conversation away, until she decided it wasn’t worth the energy anymore.

They ordered appetisers then argued about politics, the economy, and the issue of medical care in third-world countries. Alex confessed that he was a closet Mixed Martial Arts lover, which prompted her to admit that she loved musicals.
My Fair Lady, Fiddler on the Roof
and
Mamma Mia!
were her favorites. Alex further confessed that he had seen
The King and I
so many times, he had the whole play memorized.

She was still laughing at the thought of Alex singing along with the actors on stage when he excused himself to use the washroom.

Twenty seconds after he left, Jeff MacKay sat down in Alex’s seat.

Calla’s laughter died. “What do you want?”

MacKay’s trademark grin spread across his face. “Had a bit too much of the wine?”

“Go away,” she told him, turning her head to stare in the direction Alex went. “You’re ruining my Zen.”

He laughed instead. “I just want to talk.”

“Yeah, right. That’s what all the narcissistic jerks say.”

He squinted at her. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“You bet your pearly whites I do.” She tilted her head to one side. “How did you find me?”

“I have friends all over this town.” He leaned forward and asked earnestly, “Why don’t you like me?”

“Did you or did you not place a formal complaint with the AMA against me?”

“Only to get your attention. You wouldn’t give me the time of day, which doesn’t happen too often to me anymore.” His tone said he was willing to forgive if she was.

“So, you figured it was okay to make false complaints against me? You thought I’d forget that?”

“How about we call things even and start over?”

“Even? You believe your complaint to the AMA makes you even with
me
? I’ve never done anything to you.”

MacKay dropped the friendly, suggestive tone in favor of a harder, sharper one. “Look, I want to make you a deal.”

“A deal for what?”

“I want this whole mess with that woman to go away.”

“I’m just her doctor.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re the one who hit her and drove off. You’re the one who doesn’t want to admit he did anything wrong. You’re the one who’s acting like an ass.”

“I’m the man who’s going to ruin you if you don’t convince her to recant her story to the police.” He took a step closer to her. “Do it or you’ll never practice medicine again.”

Alex, now would be a good time to enter stage left.

“Hello,” Alex purred as he came to a stop next to the table. “Guess who’s been caught uttering threats?”

Chapter Ten

Jeff MacKay looked like he’d swallowed a live fish.

Alex wanted to stuff one down his throat. “You’ve been a busy boy, Jeff. Telling lies to the AMA, stalking Dr. Roberts, and tattling to the paparazzi. Now I find you threatening her.”

The transformation of MacKay’s face was astonishing. He went from surprised and uncertain to angry and ugly between one second and the next. “No one is going to believe you.”

“No one is going to believe a lawyer and a surgeon about the antics of an actor?” Alex would have laughed, but he didn’t want MacKay to detonate in the middle of the restaurant. “The truth is a powerful thing.”

“People don’t care about the truth,” MacKay said with a sneer. “They care about what the press tells them to care about.”

“Oh, I think everyone will care when you’re arrested.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong, and your doctor has been photographed giving drugs to a child and spending time with drug dealers.”

“None of that is true,” Calla said.

“Doesn’t matter. I have photographs to back up my story. You’ve got nothing.”

“Nothing? You’re sitting at my table, uninvited and unwanted.” She crossed her hands over her chest. “Or is that what you want people to hear? So you can twist it into a lover’s spat?”

The smile that slid across MacKay’s face was nothing short of sick. “What a fabulous idea.”

Calla’s fists clenched so tightly her knuckles went white. “Go away.”

MacKay stood and took a step toward her, his fists and jaw clenched, and violence vibrating his body.

Alex found himself moving before his brain had finished processing the scene, putting himself between Calla and MacKay. “Touch her and I’ll give you a fight you can’t win.”

“Stay out of this.”

“She’s my client.”

MacKay angled his chin toward Calla. “You know how this town works. You know I can ruin both of you.”

“Wrong. You’re a bully.” Alex leaned toward him. “But you can’t bully me.”

“I can’t?”

“Alex,” Calla said, grabbing his arm. “He’s not worth it.”

Alex patted her hand, but addressed MacKay. “Nope, because I can kick your ass inside and outside a courtroom.”

MacKay snorted. “I’ve trained in a bunch of martial art disciplines. Wanna go?”

“I would love to,” Alex said, smiling. “You do understand that there’s a world of difference between martial arts training for a movie or two and the real thing, right?” He glanced around at the surrounding diners. “Unfortunately, my mother taught me that brawling in public was rude, as well as hard on furniture, so I’ll have to decline.”

Calla’s voice caught his attention. “I’m calling the police.”

Both men looked at her.

She had her cell phone out.

“You’re calling 911?” Alex asked.

“Yes,” she answered as she punched in the numbers.

“We’re not done, Calla.” MacKay backed away, then exited the restaurant. Calla put her phone down on the table.

The waitress arrived with their appetisers a moment later.

Alex reclaimed his seat and waited until she was gone before asking, “Did you place the call?”

“No.”

Alex offered Calla his hand, though what he really wanted to do was drag her into his arms and hug her for a couple of years straight.

She put her hand in his and he held it tight, relief at having her safe making him lightheaded. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, squeezed him tighter, and said, “I really don’t like that man.”

“He’s dangerous.” More dangerous than his clean, all-American boy image allowed. She lifted her head. Her eyes were tired and small. “I want him to leave me alone.”

“On second thought, make the call.”

“You want me to call the police?”

“I want you to call Sparky.” He pulled out his phone and gave Calla Sparky’s number. “Tell him you want to obtain a restraining order on Jeff MacKay.”

“But won’t that give this whole mess the extra visibility MacKay wants?”

“Perhaps, but not the picture he wants to present. So far, he’s always been ahead of us and we’ve been doing nothing but running around putting out the fires he’s started. It’s time for
us
to get ahead of
him
.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.” She punched in the number.

Sparky answered with a less than cheery, “Hello.”

“Hi, this is Calla Roberts.”

“What can I do for you, Dr. Roberts?”

“I need a restraining order against MacKay.”

Sparky groaned. “Meet me at my office and bring that crazy lawyer of yours with you.”

“Okay,” she said to him, but he’d already hung up. She glanced at Alex. “He wants to see us right away.”

“Finish eating. He can wait.”

Calla shook her head. “My stomach is tied up in knots.” Yet, she picked up her fork and picked at the food on her plate.
Just to make him happy?

Had anyone ever taken care of
her
before? Put
her
first and everything else second? “Will going to the police station now make you feel better?”

She shrugged.

Better
was the wrong word. He searched his head for the right one. “Safe?”

Her head jerked up.

Got it right
. “Drop the fork. Let’s go.”

“But…”

“I’ll buy you a cheesecake later.” Alex put some money on the table, took her by the hand, and led Calla out of the restaurant. She didn’t argue or comment further, rather she clung to him, her grip strong, and showed no sign of wanting to let go.

He glanced at her and noticed the raised chin, tight jaw, and narrowed eyes as she scanned the room. He’d seen that expression before, during the first two or three times they’d talked. Now he knew what it meant.

She was afraid, but refusing to show it.

This was a learned behavior. She’d had to learn to protect herself emotionally like this as a result of someone abusing her trust.

He was going to find out who and bury the bastard.

While they were waiting for the valet to return with Alex’s car, she sucked in a deep breath and tugged at his hand.

He raised a brow at her and smiled. “You rang?”

She put some effort in trying to look happy, but couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “There’s something I want to give you.” After digging around in her purse for a moment, she pulled out an old fashioned key with a battered and frayed red ribbon tied in a bow on the handle. Very carefully, she placed it in the palm of his hand.

The key was decorative, not functional. “What’s this for?”

“This is a special key. I’ve had it since I was twelve years old.” She stroked it with one finger as if it were very precious. “I was given this key by my mother on Thanksgiving Day. Her brother had passed away the month before and she said that the last conversation they’d had before he died had ended with them angry at each other.”

Calla glanced up at Alex and he could see tears in her eyes. “She said that this key was special because it could unlock a magic door, and that door’s name was
anger, hurt, and blame
. The people we lo…care about sometimes say or do things that hurt us by accident. It’s normal and it happens to everyone.

“This key, however, is something you can give to the person you’ve hurt to tell them you’re sorry, you didn’t mean it, and you’ll make it up to them. I wouldn’t call it a
get out of jail free
key. It’s more of a
life sucks sometimes and I didn’t mean to make it harder
key. My brother and I have been trading keys back and forth ever since. Right now, I have both keys,” she flashed him a quick grin. “Except for now, you have one.”

Alex looked at the key in the palm of his hand, then at her. He opened his mouth, but found he had no words to describe the cacophony of emotions rioting inside him. She’d given him her most prized possession. A symbol of her family that carried a unique message of forgiveness.

No one had ever entrusted him with anything so precious.

“Why me?”

“You earned it.” Her cheeks warmed with pink. She opened the door and ducked into the car.


Calla stared at the road in front of them, reliving the conversation with MacKay in her head. “MacKay always seems to leave a mess behind.”

Alex chuckled. “He’s a diva. By definition they leave messes.”

That made her smile, but it didn’t last long. “Speaking of which, I guess I should tell you that MacKay was waiting for me in my office when I went back there after talking to you this morning.”

“Son of a….” Alex shook his head. “What happened?”

“Pretty much just what happened in the restaurant. He wanted to go out for coffee to talk, but I told him I couldn’t because of a family emergency. He tried to convince me to go out with him anyway, but I refused. So, he left. I locked my office up, the first time I’ve done that since I started working there, and went to see how Alicia was doing.”

“You agreed not to practice.”

Damn it, she had to open her mouth and remind him of that. “I wasn’t. Not really.”

He sighed. “You’re walking a fine line not everyone is going to appreciate.”

“I’m still allowed to care, aren’t I?” She was so
tired
of people telling her what to do.

“Of course, but you can’t diagnose, you can’t recommend treatment or—”

“What I can’t do is take the doctor out of me,” she interrupted. “It’s part of who I am. It’s all I ever wanted to be and I can’t stop being a doctor at the drop of a hat any more than I can stop speaking English or driving on the right side of the road.” She paused to catch her breath and discovered she was panting, hands clenched on her lap.

Alex said nothing for several seconds, then said, “I’m sorry.”

His apology caught her by surprise.

“I was,” he continued, “insensitive.”

“Insensitive?” she repeated. A giggle snuck its way out. “Insensitive? Coming from a lawyer, that is…funny.” Another giggle.

Alex frowned at her. “Are you okay?”

A snicker. “No, I’m not okay. I’m stressed out, freaked out, and sick of people taking pictures of me while I’m falling apart. It’s either laugh or cry.”

He waved a hand in a grand magnanimous sweep. “Laugh away then.”

She giggled some more. “Okay.” And didn’t stop until Alex pulled into a parking spot at the police station.

“Don’t forget,” he said before they got out. “Let me do the talking.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think anyone who doesn’t know you will give you the benefit of the doubt.” He opened his car door and got out.

“What do you mean, the benefit of the doubt?” she asked, following him.

He lowered his voice. “People have drawn their own conclusions about the photos that have been publicized with you in them or of your patients. Most of those conclusions are negative.”

They were? A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. “I had no idea. I thought it was the paparazzi that was doing the concluding.”

“This is Hollywood, and perception is everything.”

That was a ridiculous statement. “But everyone’s perception is different.”

Alex snorted. “That’s a rational statement. It doesn’t apply.”

“Excuse me? It doesn’t apply? What kind of thing is that for you to say?” She’d been sure he was more perceptive than that. “You’re a lawyer.”

He stopped outside the main entrance to the station and pulled her to one side, leaning close to speak in her ear. “Indeed. A lawyer who tells the truth in a city founded on the ideal of perfection, of people who look as wonderful on the outside as they do on the inside, when no such thing exists.”

The glance he gave her was so filled with disgust and derision, she wondered how he could ever find the ability to smile. “I should know. I’m the grandson of a genuine movie star. Only I’m not perfect. I’ve always been one to tell the truth rather than go to all the trouble of making something up.” He laughed. “But the truth is seldom what people want to hear.”

“Don’t do that.” Anger, rich and hot, turned her voice into a growl.

“Don’t do what? Tell you the truth? As you said, I’m a lawyer. It’s in my job description.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you or your desire to be truthful.”

“I’d rather you didn’t lie to
me
.”

He wasn’t listening, damn him. Well, she was going to keep saying it until he heard her. “I like you and your honesty. It’s interesting and refreshing. It suits your personality. But what’s more important is how you feel about it. Do
you
like being honest? Do
you
like you?”

“We’re getting off topic. We’re talking about the public’sperception of you. Ninety-nine percent of the people who’ve seen any of the pictures of you have already made up their mind about who you are and what you’re like.”

He wasn’t letting go of this and now wasn’t the time or place to take a stand. “That is a demoralizing thought.”

“It’s the truth.”

She wanted to tell him she hated the truth, but she was afraid he’d take it personally. She blew out a deep breath. “What if the police ask me a direct question?”

“Don’t answer it unless I tell you it’s okay to answer it.”

They entered the building and approached the reception desk. A uniformed police officer waved them forward. “How can I help you?”

“Detective Sparking, please. Tell him Alexander Hardy is here to see him.”

“One moment.” The officer punched in a number on his phone and spoke softly. “He’s in his office. Do you need directions?”

“No, I know the way. Thank you.” Alex gestured at Calla to follow and moved through the building like he was there every other day.

The office he eventually went into wasn’t large. It had enough room for a desk, a filing cabinet, and two chairs in front. Whether for colleagues or criminals, she wasn’t sure. There was a family picture perched on the top of the filing cabinet, but no other photos or artwork anywhere.

“Sparky, thanks for seeing us,” Alex said to the detective behind the desk. The two men shook hands, then Alex stepped to one side and said, “Dr. Calla Roberts, this is Detective Sparking, a long-time friend.”

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