Malibu Betrayals (14 page)

All in good time. He needed to take things one step at a time with Sam, show her how well they worked together on and off the set, prove to her that the horrors she faced because of Ethan’s fame weren’t necessary, so when the thought of leaving entered her mind she wouldn’t be able to stand it.

Because he couldn’t.

…

The white stucco walls, round turrets, and reaching archways made Sam feel as if she stepped through a doorway straight into Italy. “I love coming here. It’s like arriving in a fairytale.”

Raquel pulled Sam into her embrace with a smile. “Come in, come in.”

Sam followed her through the large open living space, with a spectacular view of an infinity pool through wall-to-wall glass doors, to the spacious kitchen. Raquel and Martin had been
the
power couple of Malibu and goods friends for as long as she could remember.

The elegant woman smoothed her hair into place as she studied Sam. “It is so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”

Sam blew out a breath. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“I’ve always been here for you.” Raquel pulled her in for a hug.

Sam sighed, squeezing her friend in return. “I know. I wasn’t a good friend there for a while. I’m sorry.”

Holding her at arm’s length, Raquel smiled. “Pish. You didn’t need to be a good friend, but I wanted to.”

Dressed in a flowing silk tunic of white and deep purple, Raquel glided through the main room to the doors that led to her backyard paradise. “Join me? It’s beautiful out.”

Sam followed, thankful for her slew of wonderful friends, Gage included, and settled into a cushioned lounge under a deep brown pergola draped in sheer white organza. He’d held her, just sat there and held her. It was almost too much, like she didn’t know what to do with such kindness. No demands for her to feel better, no rush. She’d never experienced anyone like him before, and though they couldn’t be serious, she wasn’t about to do anything to hurt the relationship they did have. If she could help it.

Looking around the backyard, she smiled. “God, this is heaven.”

“I love it out here.” Raquel sipped her drink and eyed her over the rim of her glass.

Sam pulled back her shoulders. “I need to talk to you about something. Ask you really, but you have to swear you won’t say anything to anyone. Especially Martin, he’d never be able to keep his mouth shut.” She threw up a hand as her mouth dropped open. “No offense.”

Raquel waved her words away like she was swatting at gnats. “Please, I have a long list of things I don’t tell that man for that exact reason.”

“So Gage Cutler.” Her voice trailed off as Raquel’s smile grew broader. “Quit looking at me like that.”

Raquel feigned an air of boredom. “Like what, dear?”

“Like you just won some sort of victory.” Sam set the glass on the table. She couldn’t imagine what was going on in her friend’s head.

Raquel sat straighter in her seat and tried—unsuccessfully—to contain her smile. “Of course not, darling.”

Raquel loved her and wanted to see her happy, but Sam had to figure out how herself, not have it orchestrated by someone else. She cleared her throat and rushed the words out. “Gage and I have been seeing each other, having a fling of sorts. Nothing serious, you know my rule.” God, it felt so good to tell someone, to hear the words aloud.

Raquel nodded calmly, sipping from her glass.

Sam could swear the woman was ready to burst, but she remained silent. Maybe Sam only imagined it, since she herself had so much going on inside. She straightened in her seat. “You know how it would look with the accident. I can admit now that Ethan and I were broken, but if Gage and I got serious, it would look like we’d been in bed together from the beginning. The tabloids would devour a story like that.”

Raquel’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “You are so much stronger than you think, really. Darling, the tabloids are a symptom of celebrity, not the prognosis. You can’t make your decisions based on whether or not you’ll end up on the front page again. Besides, a man like Gage has a lot he can do to remedy that.”

Sam sighed. He was very good at taking care of her, like nothing she’d ever known before, but—there was always a “but.” “He’s still a celebrity, under the microscope. The lifestyle. I already made that mistake once. As much as I care for him, I don’t want that for me or my family. I don’t want Hollywood in my relationship, not just the tabloids, though they are the worst of all, but the community, the fake friendships and plastic associations. Gage will always be a part of it.”

“Do me a favor.”

Sam nodded, the yearning in her heart reaching for any silver lining.

“You are enjoying your time with him. Right?”

“Yes, he’s wonderful, but—”

“Just give yourself this time. Darling, life is so short, even when it feels like an eternity. Please. Enjoy the friendship.”

“I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have.”

“Of course you don’t. And he is so very pitifully vulnerable, isn’t he?” Raquel raised a brow.

Sam shook her head and chuckled. “I know, I know.”

“You’ve come a long way since last year.”

“I’m fighting to get my life back.” Sam looked out across the pool to the ocean view beyond. The warm sun relaxed her, or maybe it was simply being with Raquel. Sam wasn’t sure, but for the first time, she wanted to talk about Ethan’s suicide. “There must have been something I could have done, Raquel. Gotten him help or talked to his family.” Her voice, barely above a whisper, wavered. Leaning back, she wrapped her arms about her waist while images of Ethan’s stiff, lifeless body flashed in jarring succession. Echoes of accusations and resentments followed the ghastly visual memories, and she breathed slowly against the tightness in her chest.

Raquel paused, then with purposeful, smooth, movements slid to the edge of her lounge and pinned Sam with a look. “Darling, look at me.”

Sam lifted her gaze. “Maybe Ethan’s family is right. He’d wanted a baby; I’d said no. I think he knew I was going to leave—”

“No.” Her friend raised her hand, palm out. “I’m sorry, but listen to me carefully.” The compelling rush of the large stone waterfall was the only sound. “Whether he knew or not, you were not responsible. He was a sick man, fighting demons you and I cannot comprehend.” Her eyes pleaded with Sam.

She opened her mouth to argue. Guilt tightened her throat, and she struggled to swallow past it.

Raquel tilted her head in that regal way of hers, asking for silence. “Years ago, when Martin and I had just been starting out, he’d put our savings into a project. Success would mean riches—failure, rags. It failed. Our savings gone. Our credit shot. No hope of owning a home. The idea of procuring a backer for any future projects impossible—so Martin concluded.” She placed her hand on Sam’s knee. “Darling, I came home to find my strong, virile husband passed out on our bed, an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the floor. I was devastated and pissed.”

Sam grasped Raquel’s hand. Her stomach twisted with grief for her friend, for herself.

Raquel straightened and stretched. “I blamed myself.”

“Oh, Raquel. Why? You had to see it wasn’t your fault.”

Raquel leveled a look at Sam with startling green eyes. “You’re right. It wasn’t. Martin needed help, but he tried to duck out on our life, thinking I’d be better off without him.”

She finished her water and held Sam’s gaze. “I wouldn’t let him. He needed help, and I hadn’t seen it. That, I did feel guilty about. But we got help, together. Now, we’re stronger for it.”

No one should have to face that kind of fear. A fear that never really healed, no matter how much time passed. “That explains why you watch him like a hawk.”

“I know my dear husband isn’t in the danger he’d been in before, but I won’t take any chances, that’s for certain.”

Leaning back against the lounge, Sam focused on the rushing spray of the waterfall. “I appreciate you sharing this with me. I can only imagine what you must have gone through. But my situation is different.”

“How?”

Raquel hadn’t held Martin back, they were a team, and she supported his plans for career, coordinated galas, set up meetings. But Sam had held Ethan’s hope in her hands and had no intention of giving it to him. She couldn’t give it to him. Deep down, she knew she’d made the right decision—for her. Now, it was something she’d have to live with.

A future with Gage would only add to her selfishness. She placed a hand over her stomach. Wouldn’t it? Gage was just stepping in to a whole new chapter of his career, and a public relationship with her would bring the whole mess with Ethan back up and might ruin his chances at directing or landing other major roles.

Besides, even if she could admit she cared more than she should, he wouldn’t want to put up with her issues.

If Gage ever had the chance for a happily-ever-after, especially under Hollywood’s microscope, he needed someone with better odds.

Chapter Fourteen

After saying goodbye to Raquel, Sam headed home. She weaved in and out of traffic until she sat by Gage’s security gate and then in his driveway. On a sigh, she pushed open her door and took the path that led to his front door. What was she going to do with this inexplicable pull he had on her? She’d admit, even if just to herself, he was more than a fling. She didn’t want to think too much on what that actually meant besides pain, especially since being with her would tie him back to Ethan’s death and damage everything he was trying so hard to repair. She’d just shove it away for now. Maybe take Raquel’s advice and enjoy the friendship.

Gage appeared without a word as she stepped through the door and he pulled her into his arms. “You’re exactly who I wanted to see.”

She resisted the warmth of his arms and then gave in and hugged him back. She wouldn’t have too many more chances, and this was her favorite place to be. In time their problems would fester into something ugly, just as they had with Ethan.

It felt like eons ago now, but when she and Ethan had first started out, all fresh-faced and new in the industry, they’d been a team, at least she thought they had been. Could she have been so wrong? As Ethan’s career had taken off, and his influence offered him endless opportunities, he’d slowly changed, and she became a status rather than an actual person. She hadn’t noticed at first because she hadn’t wanted to, but the truth had become too much to ignore. Meeting Gage that night had forced her to face her marriage—at least until the accident.

With a grin, he took her hand, his palm callused and warm, sending shivers up her arm, reminding her of the feel of that combination against her skin.

Gage pulled her into the living room. The fireplace glowed, and shadows and light flickered against the walls. “I’ve been worried about you. How are you doing?”

Sam laughed, a low tight sound. Her heart pounded in her chest and her fingers tingled. “I’m okay, if you don’t count my complete mortification of yesterday. I’m sorry I reacted that way.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her again. “I hated seeing you so hurt.”

She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in. “I know. You knew exactly what I needed. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I’m glad you were there. But I’m okay now. I went to see Raquel,” she added with a giggle. “And she says, ‘Hello, Darling.’”

He raised a brow and flashed a smile. “That’s the Mother of Malibu all right.”

Sam met his gaze. “Yes, she is.” She blew out a breath, laughing.

Gage took her hand again and pulled her down onto his lap as he sunk into a deep, cushioned armchair. He tucked her hair behind her ears and ran his fingers along her cheek, over the sensitive spot at the joint of her jaw, down her neck to her collarbone.

Sam shivered and grabbed his roaming fingers. “I told her about us.”

“Really?” The smooth tone of his voice skimmed down her spine, following the path of his fingertips, and she shivered.

“I needed someone to talk to, ya know? A girlfriend. She isn’t going to say anything to Martin.”

“Yeah, right.” He laughed. Her mouth shot open again, and he covered it with her hand. “You haven’t kissed me yet.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and as soon as he moved his hand, she pressed her mouth to his with enthusiasm. Pouring all of her emotions into the kiss, her hands roamed over his face and his shoulders, just to make sure he was real.

Breaking from the kiss, he kissed each corner of her mouth and then her nose, regardless of her protest. “What did you guys talk about?”

She lost herself in his steady gaze, in the blue-green of his eyes, in his interest. “You and Ethan being celebrities and what that means.”

Gage slid her from his lap to the chair and stood, and she immediately missed his warmth.

What had she said?

He put his hands behind his head and stretched. Pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, he muttered under his breath. He stopped, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and continued to pace.

He lifted his hand and then dropped it to his side, and perched on the arm chair of the seat next to hers. He pressed his lips together and then sighed. “I’m trying really hard not to be offended. Regardless of what you think, I’m not in the habit of putting those I care about in jeopardy.”

Sam’s heart picked up its beat. She knew he cared for her. She spent most of her time worried he wouldn’t and worried he would.

“But to compare me with your asshole husband?” He shot her a look, both intense and wounded. “If you care for me, even a little, don’t ever do that again.”

Understanding dawned. Sam widened her eyes. “Oh, Gage, no. That’s not what I meant. I told her about our fling, about how wonderful you are, and then I talked to her a little bit about Ethan’s suicide. Raquel really helped me.”

He pushed his fingers back through his hair. “I thought with the whole celebrity thing—”

She stood and then stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms about his waist, so warm and solid beneath her touch. She rubbed her cheek against the strong muscles of his back. His scent enveloped her, and she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry about not being able to move in a more serious direction. I know I hurt you the other day, and I hate myself for it.”

Silence followed, but he dropped his hands on top of hers and squeezed. “I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

“On one condition?” she asked with a laugh.

His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist before she could get away. Pulling her to him, he waggled his brow. “Let’s burn the magazines.”

Her heart expanded beyond the point of pain and into something else altogether. With a watery-eyed nod, she said, “Yes.”

Dipping down to look her in the eye, he checked in again. “Yeah?”

She nodded. It was time to burn the rest of her garbage.

There was no better way to see into her future than by clearing the path that led the way.

Sam got out of her car, looking around her familiar condo garage. They’d burned the magazines, watching them go up in flames the colors of the rainbow. It had been more cathartic than she’d ever imagined, and having Gage there standing beside her had been empowering. Not because she needed a man to move ahead, but because this man, this friend, wanted to support her move toward setting herself free.

Afterward, they’d snuggled on the couch, and Gage had fallen asleep during a movie, but she was too revved up. She took advantage to run to her house and grab the clothes she meant to get earlier. Nothing had happened in a while, and she needed some space, some distance. He’d be pissed if he woke up before she got back, so she needed to make this quick. Pulling her bag higher onto her shoulder, she headed toward the elevators.

The sound of someone clearing a throat startled Sam, and she whirled around. Her hand on her chest, she pulled in a breath and willed her heart to slow down. Ethan’s younger sister leaned against the wall wearing pretension and bitch like a trench coat. Great.

“Oh, Brigette. You scared me.”

The young woman smirked, then corrected Sam. “
Brigitte
.” She pronounced her name with a French flair Sam found amusing. Brigitte had tucked her hair into a French twist with practiced perfection. Her pink lips were lined and filled in with a matte lipstick, her tweed suit wrinkle-free. She pulled on her driving gloves at the wrist with a bored look. “You should be more careful, Sam. We’d hate to hear that you got hurt because you’re unaware of your surroundings.”

Sam tilted her head to the side as the young woman circled her with slow, steady steps. The Evans family bred predators; how had she not seen that? Adopting her own bored look, Sam glanced at her phone. “What could I possibly help you with,
Brigitte
?”

“We want the rest of Ethan’s work.”

“I gave you what I think he’d like for you to have already.”

A violent shake of her head sent a few pieces of the woman’s coiffed style free. “No. We want his work. He’d have never trusted you to decide what he would choose for us. You have no right.” Her voice shook with rage as she paced, then swung around. “You were never enough for him. He had nothing left after the accident, and he killed himself.”

She stepped in front of Sam and placed her hands on her hips, visibly forcing some self-control. “I want them now.” She turned toward the elevators. “I’ll go with you, even if it means setting foot in an apartment you’ve soiled with your whoring ways.”

Sam’s jaw fell open before she could stop it.
Whoring ways?

The smug look that settled onto Brigitte’s face was the last straw. Sam reached her limit, sick and tired of their bullying. Were they that desperate for Ethan’s photographs? She’d done them a favor, though they didn’t see it that way. Handing over his work would only expose them to his dark, dishonest side. She couldn’t imagine the ever-proper Mother Evans would want detailed photographs of her golden child in various degrees of nakedness, fornicating with his models.

Sam shook her head. When she’d first found the photos she thought perhaps they were innocent, that she’d overreacted—until she reached the photos on the bottom.

Her palms were slick with perspiration and the air hung thick and heavy. She forced herself to paste a pleasant, if a tad patronizing, smile upon her face.

“You disgust me. I can’t imagine what my brother ever saw in you. I’m waiting for his things.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time.”

Brigitte stomped her foot. “Bring me his photographs.”

Sam pushed the button on the elevator, then turned back and looked at the ignorant woman.

Brigitte smoothed her hands down her skirt and pulled on her gloves once again, a determined look narrowing her eyes. “Now.”

“No.” The elevator doors opened and Sam stepped through.

Brigitte, red faced and hands fisted at her sides, stared at Sam as the doors closed.

Sam collapsed back against the corner of the elevator, using the handrail to stay upright. She pulled in deep breaths until her heart returned to its somewhat normal rhythm.

She couldn’t let them find out what he’d really been like. Regardless that his family seemed to relish
their
cruelty, she didn’t and never would, which gave her some peace, but more important was the absolute humiliation the photos produced. If she did anything with them, she’d destroy them.

Even though she’d been part of the Evans family, she’d never been an Evans.

Sam dropped her head back with a sigh, thankful for small favors. She placed a call to her brother, Luca. At the very least, he’d be able to give her an idea of any legal action she might need to take. She’d prefer to keep it as quiet as possible, but she didn’t want to be stupid, either.

About thirty minutes later, Sam placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of her brother at her kitchen table. “Black, strong with no fuss, just the way you like it.” She ruffled his hair. “Thanks for coming over.”

Luca ducked his head away from her and then took a tentative sip. “You always make the best coffee, second to Addison.” He winked and then set the cup down, wrapping his hands around it. “This is serious, Sam. I can file a restraining order.”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

He brushed a hand back through his dark blond hair. “Look, with her threat and what’s been going on at your work—”

“How do you know about that?” Sam lowered into a chair opposite her brother.
Damn it
.

“Gage, and before you get all up in arms, it should have been you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you guys to worry. As it is, I’ve agreed to twenty-four hour supervision. Besides, it’s work.”

“First off.” He made a point of looking about the room. “I don’t see anybody here.”

Sam winced. Gage was going to take this personally. No more privacy for her in the near future. “That’s my fault. Gage fell asleep, and I thought I could grab my things and get back before he woke up.”

Luca shook his head, looking at her as if she couldn’t be trusted to cross the street alone. “Not surprised. Second, anyone could be harassing you at work; it doesn’t have to be one of the crew. There are ways people can gain access.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Luca sipped his coffee and ran the bottom of his knuckle around the rim of the cup. “What I don’t get is why you haven’t just told them what an ass he was.”

Sam’s heart lurched. For a split second she thought he knew about Ethan’s indiscretions. Ha! Indiscretions—that was a stretch. But she’d kept the discovery to herself on purpose. She wasn’t just hurt by what he’d done, she burned with humiliation. A humiliation she’d rather not broadcast.

Sam shook her head. “They’d never believe me. You know how they are. Ugh. I don’t want to talk about them anymore.” Appreciation for her brother warmed her heart. She walked around the table and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be careful, and if anything happens, I’ll let you know. But please, don’t tell Mom and Dad. The last thing I need is them showing up on set.”

The front door slammed. “Don’t worry, she’s not leaving my sight again.”

Sam whirled around at the sound of Gage’s voice. He glanced at her and then away, but she went up to him and wrapped her arms around his middle anyway. “How’d you know I was here?”

Luca shoved the chair next to him out with his foot so Gage could take a seat. “I called him.”

“Luca,” she gritted out. “That is why I called
you
. So he wouldn’t be bothered.”

Gage held her so tight she thought she might pass out, and then set her aside. “Don’t you ever do that again. Do you know how worried I was when I woke up to Luca’s call and you nowhere in sight?” Gage sauntered across the kitchen and dumped his bag on the floor next to the counter and then dropped into the chair next to Luca. “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

Luca grunted. “Like she gave you a choice. Don’t think we all don’t know how stubborn she is.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Luca, you are not helping.”

Gage looked down at his hands, spreading his fingers wide, and then rested his forearms on the table. “What I can’t figure out is why Ethan’s family is so bent on making her life hell. What’s in it for them? What’s the point? If she’s such a drag on their family pedigree, you’d think they’d want to sweep her under the rug.”