The Masterpiece (Work of Art #3) (30 page)

“Am I understood?”

He slides his glasses over his eyes and I see my reflection in them. “Yes, Ava, perfectly.”

I glare, and right before I walk away, he smiles. “Do you remember Katherine Bass?”

I stop to turn and face him. “No, who’s that?”

He chuckles quietly. “We had set her up to be a star in the design world when she started up with the prima donna behavior…So many demands, including time for her devoted boyfriend. Only weeks after we replaced her, she found out her Romeo was screwing an old girlfriend while she was away on shoots.” He shakes his head. “Such a shame, really. I’m not surprised you don’t know who she is. Her career was over before it really began.”

I narrow my eyes and my fingers curl into fists. He is masterful at mind fucking. That urge to punch him in the face overwhelms me again.

“Funny, you remind me of her in so many ways. I hear Max’s old classmate is back in L.A. and making her mark at Granville’s.”

I can’t hide my look of surprise. How is this guy all-knowing?

“I’ve heard she was his first love and he was wild about her. But knowing how confident you are, I’m sure you’re not worried about that at all.” He smirks and walks away.

Bastard!

I consider yelling something at him, but Billy darts in front of me.

“Hey!” He waves his hands in my face. “What’s up, girl? You look like you’re ready for battle.” He nods toward Travis who’s talking to one of the crew. “What did Svengali do this time?”

“Distract me before I kill him, Billy.”

He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. “Okay. Have you seen that YouTube video of the three-year-old doing the Beyoncé number?”

I scowl.

His fingers fly over his screen. “No? Well how about the one with the cute kitties and puppies.”

“Seriously?” I ask with an arched brow.

“Killing Travis just isn’t a good idea.” He reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and takes out a Snickers bar. “Look what I got on the craft truck. I’ll share it with you. Chocolate fixes everything.”

I sigh and hold out my hand. “I think I’ll need the whole bar.”

As the minutes pass, I force myself to let go of the irrational dream of making my flight tonight. Rush hour is approaching, and it looks hopeless. After an agonizing thirty minutes, Billy confirms my fears. We’re going to run several hours over schedule.

“I just checked. The later flight is completely booked, but you have a seat on the first flight in the morning. Sorry, Ava. I’ve arranged for the car to take you to the airport.”

“Damn!”

“Did you have plans for tonight?”

“Something like that,” I grumble quietly.

At seven o’clock sharp, my phone rings. Thank God, it’s Cas. I’m about to have a fit, worrying about what’s going on back at home.

“Ha, the crazy broad didn’t know what hit her!” Cas laughs heartily.

“You mean you talked to Chloe?”

“No, not me. Jackson did, and he was impressive. He wrapped the issues in a nice tidy package with a big damn bow.”

“And you think it worked. Will she back off?”

“I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t hightail it back to Florida. I guess it depends on Max. He has to remain firm in his refusal to see or talk to her.”

“Is there any reason you think he won’t be?”

“Who knows with that kid? He was unhinged, but Jackson coached him. He was cool and calm when he spoke to her, just like Jackson told him to. Your name came up. I’ll just say she isn’t your biggest fan now.”

“Oh great,” I say with a moan.

“Don’t worry. The restraining order is on its way to her as we speak. And it’s being delivered by an associate of mine, who will also make things clear
off the record.
She better not bother either of you again.”

“Oh, God, I hope not. Thank you for taking care of all of this Cas.”

“You’re welcome, my dear. So now that’s settled I want to make sure you still want this son of mine.”

“What? Of course I do! Why would you ask that?”

“He’s a handful.”

“Well I won’t deny that he’s high maintenance.”

“And now that I’m in the middle of this I have to know…what made you think you could make it work if you’re on opposite sides of the country?”

“I was hoping we could. It sounds like you don’t you think we can survive being apart for a year.”

“It just seems unlikely after talking to him face to face.”

I feel like I’m going to faint. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Look Ava, I’ve got to be straight with you. Max may be my son, but the kid’s an
artiste
and he’s a little bit nuts. Maybe he’s nuts
because
he’s my son but there’s part of me that thinks he and Crazy Chloe deserve each other.”

“No. Don’t say that,” I whisper as I lean against the wall to keep from swaying.

“You’re such a great gal. I swear I love my boy, I just think you could do better.”

I blink back a tear. “But I love him, Cas.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I love him with all my heart.”

“Alright Ava, that’s what I needed to hear. I’m going to wrap this up and I feel better knowing that you’re still all in.”

“I am, Cas. Completely. Can I talk to Max now?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“You asked for my help, and we’re doing this my way. I need him focused.”

“Really? And he’ll lose his focus if he talks to me?”

“Do you really need to ask me this?”

“Doesn’t he want to talk to me?” I ask, trying to underplay my concern. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“Calm down, buttercup. You don’t need to worry. Yes, he wants to talk to you, but I took his phone away. If it makes you feel any better, he’s pissed over the phone issue, but we still have some important work to do. In fact, I’m taking him on a brief trip, and if I get my way, he’ll meet you in Paris. Your plane ticket, car pick-up, hotel instructions, Euros and such will be delivered to you tomorrow.”

“What? I don’t want to fly to Paris without him.” Good God, I’ve unleashed a monster. What have I done?

“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Cas. Why should I trust you?”

“You really don’t have any choice, my dear. I’ll text you by noon tomorrow.”

The click when he hangs up rings in my ear long after I pull my phone away.

As it turns out, the shoot runs so late that I wouldn’t have made the later flight either, even if they’d had an available seat. Because of the permit delays, the light was falling, and they had to set up additional lighting and on and on. It seems like it’s just as easy for things to go wrong on a shoot as go right. So, by the time I get back to the hotel and check in for a second time, I’m completely spent. After a shower and glass of wine, I crash, while my mind whirls with thoughts of all the things Cas said about Max, and all I have to get done tomorrow after I get to L.A. and prepare to leave for Paris.

Unfortunately, my sleep is not peaceful—a tall blonde with a halo of glowing hair lingers on the edge of every scene and haunts my dreams. In some settings, I ignore her; in others, I try to dodge her, but she’s always watching me. In the final dream before I’m torn awake, I walk through the Country Mart in Malibu. I notice Chloe’s perched on the edge of her café chair, laughing and holding the hand of her lunch date.

When I take another step forward to see whom she’s with, he’s wearing designer sunglasses pushed up on his head and a shirt covered in a tattoo style pattern. I step closer and they both turn to look at me. When I see her date is Max, my heart drops. She gives me a smug smile, and he turns to see what she’s looking at. What finally devastates me is the complete disinterest in his expression when he notices me, before he turns back to her and smiles.

I sit up with a start and tear off the sheets. My chest heaves and my stomach rolls. Why in the hell does Chloe have to haunt me in my sleep too? I slowly sip the bottle of water on my nightstand and try to settle myself as my mind wanders.

Even though I’ve tried to rationalize my thoughts and calm my paranoia, the seed of doubt has been planted.

Cas forced everything about the Chloe meeting, even having Jackson coach Max on what to say. What if Max has doubts or confusion? What if there’s a part of him that still feels something for her, and he’s avoided her so he wouldn’t have to face his feelings and upset me? A first love that powerful stays with you your entire life.

What if his eventual acceptance of my move to New York is actually a sign that he’s drifting away from me? I’m suspended in a foggy state between dream and wakefulness, and it clouds my mind, letting my imagination soar. His initial fears of separation morph into a monster furiously pacing my hotel room while I tremble on the bed. My mind swirls as the creature takes shape to haunt me.

I finally switch on the light and the monster disappears as quickly as it came, but the impression and disturbing thoughts linger.

Turning to look at the glowing green numbers of the clock, I run my fingers through my hair. “Four in the morning—yay me!”

I’m talking to myself now, not a good sign. I turn on the TV and search for the most innocuous channel I can find, but everything annoys me. In a final act of self-punishment, I settle on the Disney Channel. If I can survive perky preteens, I can survive anything.

I get a call from Jackson just as I’m about to board the plane. I take the call, anxious to hear his take on the Chloe situation, but I quickly learn that’s not why he’s calling.

“You mean you aren’t going to give me a play-by-play breakdown of the Chloe showdown?” I ask, half-teasing, half-begging.

He sighs. “Ava, you know I can’t. That showdown was for Caswell, who is also my client. When you see Max, ask him to tell you about it.”

The tone of his voice is hard to read.

“How have the shoots been going?”

It seems odd he’d be asking me this now. “Fine, why?”

“I got a call yesterday evening from ArtOneWorld’s lawyer about your contract.”

I take a sharp breath. “What about my contract? Do they have a problem with me?”

“Frankly, I’m a little puzzled. Essentially, they want to revisit the days you have off per your contract. Evidently, someone in management doesn’t approve of it. Somehow they missed the contract review before it was signed.”

Travis.
What a bastard.
I bet he talked to the lawyer as soon as our conversation ended yesterday.

“Let me guess. They want to take away my days off.”

“They’re asking for more flexibility. I pressed for a reason why. From what I’ve seen, you’ve stayed on the production schedule. Nothing is behind.”

“Svengali is throwing down the gauntlet.”

“Excuse me? Is someone not treating you well, because I won’t tolerate that. Let me guess. Is this about Travis Williamson? I’ve heard he’s extremely controlling.”

“Indeed it is. From the moment I met him, he’s been weird, and at first I had no idea why. But we had a showdown yesterday afternoon after I found out he’d purposely created extra setups so I’d have to work the weekend Max was coming to visit. I told him I would be taking all my days off from now on.”

Jackson lets out a long sigh. “I really wish you’d let me handle this, Ava. That’s what I’m here for—to protect you and be a buffer between you and management.”

“I appreciate that, Jackson, but it was one of those moments where everything became very clear, and I had to get it off my chest. I’ll work my ass off for these guys, but I’m not giving up my personal life.”

“Understood,” he says in a professional tone.

“So, am I going to get fired?”

“No, you aren’t in breach of your contract. Actually, you’re just insisting they stick to the contract. I’ll let them know this isn’t negotiable.”

“Okay, and then what?”

“It depends on how the series does. If it does well and the audience likes you, I’m sure they’ll keep you. We already have the option for season three signed off on, so those contracts are set. If they want to go into season four, they may push their point again—”

“And if they do, I’ll just walk away.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

He whistles low and chuckles.