Swinging On A Star Page 2

  “We have excellent restaurants in London. I can recommend a few, if you’d like.”

  She had to give him credit, he was trying to make it less awkward. If he put forth the effort, she would as well.

  “That’s very kind of you but before I do much of anything I’m going to need to go shopping and get some warm clothes. Maybe a real coat too, although we’re heading into the summer months. Paige told me a few stores to try.”

  Her friend and employer had no idea what was going on in Carrie’s life. It wouldn’t have been right to dump her broken engagement on Paige’s wedding day, although she was going to have to come clean when the newlyweds finished their short honeymoon in Paris and settled in LA while Nate filmed a new movie.

  “I hope they’re having a good time,” she said wistfully. “They looked so happy at the wedding.”

  “They’re in love and on their honeymoon,” Max chuckled. “They’re having a good time. I’m sure of it. Speaking of a good time, since you’ve never been here I can get my assistant to take you around or she can book you on a proper tour.”

  That sounded like proper torture. People following along like cattle listening to someone drone on and on from a script. “Thank you but I’ll probably just get a guidebook and putter around. See where inspiration takes me.”

  “Whatever makes you happy.”

  That was a loaded statement if she’d ever heard one. She hadn’t been happy since Mark had so unceremoniously dumped her. She’d cried for days when she wasn’t with Paige, constantly asking herself what was wrong with her. Why had Mark fallen out of love with her? Maybe he’d never really loved her at all. Maybe she wasn’t lovable.

  Max pointed out some of the famous landmarks and Carrie made a mental note to hit the London Eye right away, preferably both during the day and after dark. She wanted to see this city from a high perch.

  “I know you didn’t tell Paige about your engagement,” Max said, his gaze still on his phone. “Did you tell your parents? Are they concerned about you coming here to London all alone?”

  It was at that moment that Carrie realized they didn’t know each other well at all. She knew a few things because she’d looked him up on the Internet but he knew nothing at all about her except that she worked for Paige. Hardly enough to base a relationship on. The whole idea had been ludicrous.

  “My parents have passed away so I don’t have to worry about what they think. I have an older brother who’s married with two kids. When he finds out about Mark I’m going to have to talk him out of burying my ex in a shallow grave.”

  Max cleared his throat. “This Mark fellow deserves it.”

  Truer words and all that…

  “Damn skippy he does but it’s illegal. And morally wrong,” she added as an afterthought.

  The tension between them was lessened to a degree so she was feeling more comfortable with him when they arrived in front of his home on a lovely residential street. High black iron gates kept the riffraff out but they swung open when Max tapped out a code on his phone. Technology. Nice. She loved anything that made life easier and more organized.

  Max told the cabbie to wait for Carrie. “Why don’t you come inside and get that spare key to Nate’s home? I can’t believe they took off and forgot to give you one.”

  Smiling, Carrie remembered the blissful expressions of Paige and her new husband. “I can. They had a lot on their minds that day and the next morning too. I’ll have a copy made and get it back to you as soon as possible.”

  “Good plan,” he said, leading the way up the front steps. “I can point out just the shop to have one made.”

  Unlocking the door, he pushed it open with his shoulder and they stepped into the foyer where he placed the bags. She walked a few feet into the living room with Max right beside her and that nasty tension was back but this time it wasn’t her fault. Not at all.

  His home looked like a war zone. What Alana hadn’t taken and loaded into that truck the other night, she’d destroyed. It looked like some crazed person had taken a sledgehammer to every mirror, photo, chair, and dish in the house. There was glass scattered across the floor as far as the eye could see, shredded throw rugs and pillows, and the masterpiece – the biggest damn flat screen television she’d ever seen with a hammer lodged in the face.

  “Bloody hell,” Max groaned, scraping his fingers through his hair as he walked forward cautiously, the sound of glass crunching under his shoes. “What in the ever-loving fuck?”

  If the rest of the house looked as bad as the kitchen and living room there was no way he’d be spending the night here. Her business instincts came to the fore, and Carrie pulled out her cell phone and began looking for a hotel. Then she’d find a cleanup crew for this mess. After that? A home furnishings store. He’d need everything new right down to the forks. Thank God he could afford it, although that didn’t make this any better.

  Note to self. Max’s ex-wife is a total bitch.

  “This is criminal, Max. You could call the police on her.”

  He didn’t turn around but simply shook his head. “I don’t want or need that kind of publicity. It would play right into her hands.”

  “Maybe she’s counting on you staying quiet.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, his expression a mask of fury.

  Another note to self. Max has a temper and he was currently hanging on to it by a thread.

  “I know how to handle this,” he growled, his jaw set. “She thinks she’s got me by the balls. She’s mistaken.”

  They walked through the rest of the house and every room was no better than the last.

  “She broke every mirror in your home,” Carrie observed. “That’s like…thirty-five years of bad luck. She’s screwed.”

  “She’ll have more bad luck than that.” Max looked around his master bedroom, the mattress ripped to shreds. “I can’t stay here. I’ll need to find somewhere else while I replace all of this.”

  Carrie smiled and held up her phone. She might not be able to be the girlfriend of his dreams but dammit, she was good to have around in a crisis. “Way ahead of you, Hamlet. The Ritz, The Four Seasons, or The Savoy?”

  That famous eyebrow quirked up and his forehead wrinkled as if he was puzzled.

  “The Ritz, I suppose.”

  “I’m on it. Now I’ve found a possible cleaning company but we might do better to call your regular service. Do you have their number?”

  “I do here in my phone. I’ll call them.”

  She shook her head as she typed into her phone. “I can do that. Then we need to go shopping to replace all of this. Did you pick it out yourself or did you have a designer do it?”

  “Myself.”

  “Are you going to want to do that again? I can probably arrange for a few designers to talk to you.”

  His large hand came into her view and gently tugged her phone away from her. “Carrie, you don’t have to do this. I have an assistant and she can handle this.”

  “But I’m here and we can get on top of this right now.”

  He stepped into her personal space, looming over her. She caught a whiff of his aftershave along with a few other scents – soap, mint, and maybe cigarettes too.

  “Carrie.” He’d bent his head so their faces were close, inches apart, and her heart accelerated, banging against her ribs. Fear? No, this was something else. Attraction? He was handsome with a voice to die for. No, she couldn’t be attracted to him. He wasn’t her type. She didn’t do assholes. “This isn’t your problem to solve.”

  Her fingers gripped her cellphone and she slowly exhaled a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “I’m happy to help you.”

  “No need. I’ll call my assistant to take care of all of this, but I do thank you for offering. Not many people would have.”

  “Not many people have their entire home destroyed by a vengeful ex-wife.”

  He grimaced, his mouth turned down. “Soon to be ex. The divorce isn’t final yet but it shouldn’
t be long now. It can’t come soon enough.”

  “Clearly.”

  That had him chuckling but then he turned serious again. “Carrie, I don’t want to push this but I’d like to extend the offer one more time. I think we can help each other out. I need you and I think you need me too.”

  There was tension in the way he held himself, showing that he wasn’t altogether comfortable having to ask. Again. For a moment she wavered, wondering if she’d done the right thing. He was a handsome, sexy movie star and this would be her only chance of ever dating someone like him, even if it was fake.

  But then she remembered that they’d have to walk down red carpets and she’d have to wear designer clothes and jewels. She simply wasn’t the type and if he’d been thinking straight, he’d know that. He was a desperate man and right now she looked like a viable option. She didn’t have a stylish bone in her body and she sure as hell didn’t want to see his face when he eventually realized it.

  “I’m sorry, Max.” She tried to keep her voice cool but she could hear it shake slightly. “I just don’t think I’m the right person for this. I’m sure you won’t have a hard time finding a woman who will.”

  One call to his publicist and he’d have a whole list of actresses and models beating down his door to pretend to be his girlfriend. All prettier and more talented.

  His expression looked to be carved from granite and his eyes had gone ice blue. He could turn the charm on and off like a faucet. “You’re right. No problem at all. Let me lock up. I hope you don’t mind if I share your taxi to a hotel.”

  Oh goody, more time with Pompous Max. Lucky her.

  He might be angry now but tomorrow when things didn’t look so dark he’d be relieved, wondering what in the hell he’d been thinking. Carrie was many things – organized, practical, business-minded, predictable, even boring, but she wasn’t glamour material. The only red carpet she’d be walking down was if she bought a scarlet throw rug and placed it in her foyer. Maxwell Hayes, on the other hand, had been born to walk down a red carpet and be photographed.

  Just not with her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Max had suggested lunch in a cafe not far from Nate and Paige’s home and Carrie found herself agreeing, despite knowing he was only being polite. The handsome actor fascinated her with the way he could change his personality at will. One minute he was friendly and sweet, the next icy and remote. She couldn’t help the curiosity that kept her in his company, trying to see beneath the facade he wore. The mystery? Which was real and which was fake? Perhaps they both weren’t true.

  Carrie and Max were wrapping up a quiet lunch when her phone rang. One look at the screen and she groaned. It was her brother Greg and since he rarely called her now that his second child had been born, nothing good could come from this conversation. She almost hit the Decline button but thought better of it. It was going to happen sooner or later so it might as well be now.

  “It’s my brother. I have to get this.”

  Max nodded and pulled out his own phone to check his messages, effectively giving her as much privacy as their proximity would allow.

  “Hi, Greg. What’s going on?”

  “Hey, Sis, is there anything you want to tell me?”

  Hmmm…it sounded like he knew something was up.

  “Frankly, brother dear, I never want to tell you anything. You’re like a worried old woman most of the time. What’s on your agenda today?”

  “I talked to Mark.”

  The words came out as a snarl and Carrie’s heart fell to her feet. She hadn’t been given much time to come up with a really good explanation. Maybe the truth wasn’t the worst idea.

  “Then you know the engagement is off.”

  Her statement caused Max to pull his attention from his phone and to her call, listening intently. No pressure there.

  “I do now but I’m wondering why I didn’t hear if from you.”

  “Because I didn’t want to discuss it with you. I thought you might do something stupid and beat him up. Why did you even talk to him anyway?”

  “He had a few things of yours that he wanted to give back – well, actually he said he wanted to get rid of them – but you didn’t answer your door so he stopped by here and left the box. As for punching him, should I? Has he done something that deserves a smackdown? Because I’m just the guy to do it. I never liked him in the first place.”

  “I know,” she sighed, checking out Max who appeared to be pretending that he wasn’t listening. He might be staring at his phone but he hadn’t changed the screen in way too long. “You told me so repeatedly.”

  “So what happened?” Greg demanded. “Did you guys have a fight?”

  Several of them. None that made a damn’s worth of difference.

  “Not a fight,” she finally said. “Things have been going south for quite awhile and we’ve been growing apart. Eventually he decided he wanted to get back with his ex-wife and I’ve moved on as well. No hard feelings. I’m just thankful we realized that we weren’t suited before we got married.”

  She’d been practicing her explanation and she thought it sounded damn good to her own ears.

  “His ex-wife?” Greg exploded and she had to hold the phone far away from her still ringing eardrum. “That sniveling little shit went back to Tina? What an asshole. What a fucking asshole. I am going to beat the shit out of him. He deserves it, breaking your heart like that.”

  She couldn’t let that happen. Greg was a husband and a father that didn’t need an assault and battery charge to complicate his life. She had no doubt that Mark would press charges, the prick.

  “He didn’t break my heart. I told you, we’d been growing apart. I was actually relieved when he left and I truly have moved on.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  “Greg? Are you there?”

  “I’m here. What do you mean by moving on?”

  Smiling widely, Carrie hoped that old saying was true. That people on the phone really could tell if you had a smile on your face.

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you but I’m in London.” She took a deep breath. “Paige is moving here, you know, and they’ve offered to rent me a flat. I was thinking I would see the sights and have some fun. Go see Paris, Berlin, Dublin, Edinburgh, Rome, or even Venice. It’s the chance of a lifetime.”

  “London…as in London, England? You’re on another fucking continent? Jesus, Carrie, what are you thinking? You don’t even speak the language.”

  Giving up the pretense of not eavesdropping, Max was scowling at the phone as if he’d never heard someone say something stupid before. Carrie loved her brother but sometimes he made her want to smack her own forehead. Greg was a sweetheart but he was far too protective. “Greg, I’m in England. They speak English here. I know that language just fine.”

  “Yeah, but that’s Europe and they speak French and German and other languages. You took high school French, Carrie. You only know how to ask where the bathroom is.”

  She knew slightly more than that but not much. “They have an app for that on my smartphone. I’ll be fine. I’ll take pictures and send them to you.”

  “And Paige is okay with this?”

  Greg worshipped Paige as if she were a goddess on Mount Olympus. “She does and she wholeheartedly approves. She wouldn’t steer me wrong, now would she?”

  “No, she’s a smart one.”

  Christ on a crutch, was he saying Carrie was dumb?

  “Everything is going to be fine,” she assured Greg in her most soothing voice. “I’m here to do a job and on my off-time I’ll see Europe.”

  She couldn’t see her brother’s face but she could almost hear his frown through the cell phone. “I think you should come home, Sis. I don’t like the idea of you wandering around a foreign country by yourself.”

  Time to get tough with him, otherwise he’d talk to her until she was worn down to a nub.

  “Greg, I think we both know that I am more than capa
ble of taking care of myself. Of the two of us, who is the more organized person?”

  “You are,” he grunted.

  “That’s right. I am. I’ll be fine.”

  “But you need your family with you at a time like this,” Greg protested. “Jeannie said that her yoga instructor has a brother who teaches high school math. Real handsome and about your age. Just got a divorce. We could invite you both over for dinner–”

  Yikes. Not a blind date with a brother of an acquaintance who was looking for a rebound. She hadn’t sunk that low. It was time to end this call before she agreed to something she would later regret.

  With her fingernails she lightly scratched the surface of her phone while blowing puffs of air loudly into the microphone. “I think I’m losing you, Greg. You know how these international connections are. I really do need to go. Love you. Kiss Jeannie and the kids for me, okay?”

  She hung up and Carrie heaved a huge sigh. “I think he bought the explanation. I’m assuming you could hear all of that.”

  Max nodded. “I did and you were good. Very convincing, especially that international connection part. I never thought about scratching at my mobile but I think it added a realistic touch. Although I have to say I might have let your brother kick Mark’s arse. He deserves it.”

  “No,” Carrie shook her head. “I want people to think I’m fine and the breakup doesn’t bother me. Besides, Greg doesn’t need an assault and battery charge. He’ll get kicked out of the state bar.”

  It did give her a fun-filled preview of what the future was going to be like whenever she spoke with anyone who didn’t know about the breakup. She’d be fake smiling and pretending not to be heartbroken. It wasn’t going to be easy. She was a lousy actress.

  Stroking his chin, Max didn’t look convinced. “I suppose so but I still think Mark is getting off lightly. Sometimes karma is too slow.”

  Chuckling, she tucked her phone back into her bag. “You haven’t met Mark’s ex. If even half the crap he told me about her is true, she’s a psycho. A real crazy lady just like Alana. I think a lifetime with her is punishment enough.”