A Kiss For The Cameras (The Hollywood Showmance Chronicles Book 1) Page 6

“You were very rude to her, Max. I’d like you to apologize when she comes back. She didn’t deserve that sort of treatment. She’s a nice woman.”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “A woman who is spending the night apparently. How long is she here for? Is she moving in?”

  Nate crossed his arms over his chest. “Max, why are you here?”

  His friend exhaled noisily and pulled an iPad from his jacket pocket, touching the screen a few times before turning it so Nate could see. The photos were a tad blurry but anyone could see it was Nate and Paige boarding a plane at JFK. The caption was the usual crap.

  Who is the mysterious blonde with Mason? Has he found a new love?

  It was exactly what he’d been hoping for. He wanted a candid shot of them to make its way to the press so they could start slowly getting the public used to seeing them together. This was a solid beginning. Hopefully Garrett and Helen were already on top of things.

  At the right time everyone would know he was involved with a smart, accomplished woman who liked to keep a low profile. And that was the plan. They would not be splashing photos of them kissing and holding hands on the front page of every tabloid. They’d go quietly about their business and let the press come to them. Mystery was the order of the day.

  “So? Paige and I were at the airport. Is that why you came over here so late? To show me a picture in some gossip rag?”

  “Nate, what in the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking, mate. That’s a photo of me and Paige boarding our flight back here.”

  Max flicked a gaze toward the kitchen but Paige was nowhere in sight. “Who is she and how did you meet? Jesus, how naive can you be? She probably had that pap at the airport waiting for you two. There are a lot of women that want to ride on your coattails after last year, Nate. Women who don’t care if the publicity is good or bad.”

  Nate thought about stringing Max along a while longer but Paige would be returning soon and he was too exhausted anyway.

  “It’s a contract, Max.” He held up his hand as his friend’s face turned red. “Well, not an official contract but an agreement, really. All my idea. Believe me, Paige is about as innocent as you can get when it comes to publicity and PR relationships. It took three of us to convince her to do it and honestly I’m not sure she even likes me all that much, although I’m working on that and making progress.”

  Eyes wide, Max shook his head. “Then why did you do it, mate? What can this Paige do for you? Is she an actress?”

  Nate shuddered at the thought. He was done dating actresses and models. No more.

  He pointed to the doorway where she’d disappeared. “That intelligent and lovely woman is none other than Paige Mitchell, the bestselling author. I’m going to play Flynn and also direct. In return, I’m helping her raise her profile so she’ll have more leverage with the studios plus giving her a hand with the personal appearances. So please try and be nice when she joins us. She can be a pain in the arse but as of a few days ago, she’s my pain in the arse.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  She’s my pain in the arse.

  Paige kind of liked the possessive nature of Nate’s statement. She couldn’t deny she was a handful of trouble with her smart mouth and snarky attitude. So far he’d done well dealing with her and even at this moment he could have denied her spot in his life but he hadn’t.

  Maybe the fucker isn’t as annoying as I thought.

  “I realize she’s not my usual type, Max, but don’t you see that’s the beauty of this arrangement? There’s no chance I’ll fall in love with her so there’s no way I can get hurt. Unlike last time, I’m in complete control of the situation. Because she’s so new at this I call the shots.”

  Or he’s even a bigger bastard than I’d ever imagined.

  No chance? Ouch. That fucking hurt. She’d known it already, of course, but hearing it out loud still hurt. More than she’d expected. She pressed a hand to her chest where he’d shoved the imaginary dagger as if they were in some Shakespearian tragedy. This was why she wrote happy endings. Shit.

  There was also the little issue of him thinking he was calling all the shots in this showmance. Another cute little factoid about herself? She was a fucking control freak and this didn’t sit well with her at all. She wasn’t a pawn to be moved around a chess board and if he thought that was how this was going to work he was in for a huge shock.

  Time to let them know I’m standing here.

  “Gentleman.” She entered the living room to see two tense men glowering at one another. “Have you finished your business or do I need to go upstairs and unpack to give you more time?”

  Nate turned and smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re fine. We’re done here. Max, do you want to stay for pizza?”

  Max didn’t answer immediately, his gaze running from Paige’s head to her feet and then back up again. He was probably agreeing with Nate about how unlovable she was. Fan-fucking-tastic. So far this trip to London had been memorable.

  That friendship with Nate wasn’t looking too good either. She didn’t like the people in her life to have hidden agendas about her.

  Struggling to smile, Max shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. I have an early meeting. Paige, it was lovely to meet you. I hope you enjoy your stay in London. I’m sure we will meet again.”

  “I look forward to it. So far this trip has been so very educational.”

  Brows pulled together, Max was at a loss but Nate interjected smoothly. “It’s always good to learn new things. Thanks for stopping by, mate. Let’s get together for a pint this week.”

  “Yes, let’s. Goodnight.”

  When Nate closed the door behind his friend, he turned to Paige with a big smile. “So, what do you want on your pizza?”

  * * *

  The pizza was inhaled, only bits of crust left in the box. Paige had consumed three glasses of wine which was one more than she usually allowed herself. She shouldn’t have let the earlier conversation bug her but the longer she sat there the more her anger grew. Now she was on full blast and pissed the hell off. Who the fuck did he think he was? Was she getting played? Had she put herself into an untenable position?

  Nate patted his stomach and folded up the pizza box. “That hit the spot. I’m exhausted. I think I’ll head to bed. You should get some rest as well.”

  “I’m wide awake,” she dead-panned. “I think we need to talk, my new friend.”

  “Maybe in the morn–”

  “This won’t wait. I think we need to talk about how you perceive this relationship working because if you think you’re going to control everything you are sadly mistaken.”

  Venom dripped from her voice and Nate, despite his fatigue instantly went stiff, his spine straight as a board. He wasn’t completely stupid because he had the good sense to look a little afraid.

  “Darling–”

  Paige hopped to her feet and cut him off. “Don’t even try and use that British bullshit charm on me, Nate Mason. I heard what you said to Max and I almost couldn’t believe my ears. Am I just some dumb American pawn to you?”

  Nate levered to his feet and reached out for Paige’s arm but she knocked his hand away. His expression turned wounded but she wouldn’t be swayed by the puppy dog eyes. She’d come too far to let some guy take her for an idiot.

  “Of course not. But might I say that eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves. If you had come in a few minutes earlier, you would have heard me telling him how wonderful you are.”

  “Don’t you dare try and turn this around on me. I wasn’t listening in. I was coming back out here and you two were talking loudly. I’d have to be deaf not to have heard you.”

  Nate sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sure it was hurtful to hear me say those things and for that I unreservedly apologize.”

  How sweet. He didn’t regret saying it, but he regretted getting caught.

  Paige rolled her eyes. “And I unreservedly don’t
give a shit. I’m not upset that you said I wasn’t a woman you could ever fall in love with, asshole. That was something I already knew and that’s why I told you that no one would ever believe this. No, what I’m upset about – make that livid – is that you’re trying to control me. I’ve come too far to let some B-list actor with more than his share of self-esteem try to manipulate me. I’m in charge of my career, Nate, and I sure as hell won’t be turning that over to you.”

  His mouth opened and closed a few times, his face a bright red. Finally he shut his mouth, his expression fierce with his lips a tight line and his brow furrowed. She thought he was about to speak when he whirled on his heel and stomped up the stairs. She heard the slam of a door a moment later.

  Okay, that was interesting. She remembered reading somewhere that he didn’t like conflict or confrontation or something stupid like that. No wonder he’d never had a relationship last. Getting mad was part of the deal and working it out was mandatory. Her suitcase was still by the door and she grabbed her laptop from her carryon before settling into the soft leather couch.

  If she couldn’t sleep, she’d work. It was the one thing that had been there for her all these years whenever things turned to shit. Her characters and their worlds. They never let her down and they never hurt her feelings. In that, she was always in control.

  She wouldn’t bother to unpack either. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be staying. He’d throw her out in the morning.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next morning Nate pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before padding barefoot out into the hallway. He hadn’t slept well at all, tossing and turning most of the night. He was deeply ashamed of his behavior and embarrassed that he’d acted like a three-year-old having a tantrum. When he’d stomped up those stairs last night, his one thought was to keep from saying something he knew he would regret later. Because there was a secret he was keeping from almost everyone in his life, except very close friends and family.

  He had a nasty temper.

  When he was angry he tended to lash out at the nearest – usually quite innocent – person targeting whatever weakness he was aware of. With surgical precision he’d go after their deepest fears and insecurities, never thinking about the damage he was inflicting until the anger had passed and he had calmed down.

  When Paige had called him fake she hadn’t been far from the truth.

  He also had to admit that he kind of hoped that Paige would follow him, come after him and make him talk. Because he had a temper he avoided conflict and confrontation like the plague but when forced he would eventually deal with the underlying issue.

  A soft knock on the spare room door didn’t get a response so he cracked it open slightly only to see that the bed hadn’t been slept in.

  Shit, had she left? Called a taxi and fled?

  He wouldn’t blame her if she had but he’d hoped to apologize this morning and clear the air. He liked Paige, and not in just a superficial way. She was smart, funny, slightly cynical, and always good for fun and a laugh. She was charmingly down to earth while somehow being highly creative. It was a fascinating combination and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to her, not that he was planning on doing anything about it. They were friends now and business partners. By the end of this coming year she’d know the real him whether he liked it or not, and when she did, it wouldn’t matter if he was attracted to her.

  Coffee. He needed coffee.

  He was at the bottom of the stairs when he saw her, scrunched into some sort of pretzel shape on the couch, still dressed in the clothes she’d worn all day. Instead of being stretched out long ways she was balled into a corner, her laptop on her thighs and her head lolling to the left. She was going to be in a world of pain when she woke up. Why hadn’t she gone upstairs to sleep? Had she been contemplating her options when exhaustion overcame her?

  Whatever she’d been planning to do he now had a chance to apologize and talk her out of it. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he lifted the laptop and placed it on the coffee table. His fingers had brushed her arm and her skin was chilled from the cool night air. Feeling even guiltier that she’d been cold and miserable all night, he grabbed the wool throw from the armchair and tucked it around her body. She stirred slightly and he froze but she settled herself again, snoring softly in her awkward position. He wanted to move her but he was afraid if he did she would wake up for sure.

  Letting her sleep, he headed into the kitchen and started the coffee pot before digging out a couple of eggs. He normally ate eggs and toast for breakfast when he was home, and they hadn’t discussed what she’d like to have in the morning. He’d be happy to fix her whatever she wanted when she woke up or take her out if she preferred to not eat his cooking. At this point he’d do just about anything to get back in her good graces.

  He’d finished his breakfast and was pouring his third cup of coffee when she entered the kitchen. Looking incredibly adorable, her clothes and hair rumpled and her eyes slightly unfocused, she didn’t say anything. She simply stood there in the middle of the room rubbing her sore neck, her gaze darting from the coffee pot, to the table, then to him.

  “Hi,” he finally said, not able to stand the silence any longer. “Coffee?”

  She nodded and he poured her a cup but she didn’t drink it, sort of staring at it like she’d never seen a novelty mug before. This one said, “Have a Thunderous day.”

  Blinking a few times, she scrubbed at her eyes and yawned. “Cream. Sugar. Where…?”

  He drank his black so he hadn’t even thought of it. Great host he was. He didn’t have any cream but he did have milk courtesy of his assistant who had stocked the refrigerator. He set the sugar on the counter and retrieved the milk from the door of the refrigerator.

  “Is milk okay? I don’t have any cream. I need to do some shop–”

  “It’s fine.” She reached for the milk. “Just as good.”

  After stirring her coffee she sat down at the table, sipping her beverage and not saying a word. Clearly she was waiting for him to apologize and he intended to do just that. The sooner he got it over with the better.

  “Paige, I’d like to apologize for my behavior last night.”

  Whatever response he was expecting, the one he received wasn’t it.

  “Thank you. I’d like to apologize too.”

  Now that he hadn’t expected. What exactly was she apologizing for?

  He sat across from her at the table, his hands clutching the mug. “That’s very sweet of you but I’m not sure that you have anything to apologize for. Me, on the other hand…”

  The corners of her lips turned up and she gave a tiny snort. “Yeah, because I’m such a sweet and innocent little lady in all this. Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. That argument last night took two of us, Nate. So let me say it again…I’m sorry. I hit you below the belt and it wasn’t a nice thing to do.”

  His mouth was hanging open. He knew it was and yet he was having a hard time closing it so he could form words. She’d apologized. A real, live, sincere apology. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of those very often in any of his relationships. She was truly sorry and regretful. She’d admitted her mistake.

  What the ever-loving hell? It was beyond his comprehension almost.

  “I–I–I don’t even know how to respond. Of course you are forgiven. That goes without saying.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her smile grew wider. “Okay, here’s where the rubber meets the road, my new friend. It’s time to drop the Prince Charming shit. I pissed you off last night and probably hurt your feelings too. Don’t let me off the hook here because I’m not going to let you off when my turn comes. Hold yourself and people accountable. It’s the only way to have an honest relationship.”

  “You get very preachy sometimes.”

  The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he waited in horror for her to light into him but she laughed instead, nodding in agreement. “Honey, you have no idea
. You better hope I didn’t pack my soapbox. Now…I meant what I said. Talk to me. Honestly this time.”

  He was far too used to pushing down any honest emotions, his public persona had taken precedence for far too long. Frankly, how he felt wasn’t important much these days. Paige had been right on the nose when she’d called him fake. It was hard to allow himself to feel the hurt and anger he’d bottled up last night and he wasn’t sure he wanted to let it run wild.

  “I have a temper,” he admitted to buy some time. “I hit out at people where they’re the weakest. Then I’ve hurt them and I can’t take it back.”

  She took another sip of her coffee, contemplating his words. “Then you would be exactly like most people in the world. I did it last night too. Now, is there anything you want to say to me?”

  His gut churned and he gripped the handle of his coffee mug tightly until the knuckles were white. What she was asking of him was something he wasn’t sure he was even capable of. He’d played a part for years now to the point where it was second nature. Controlling himself and giving the fans what they wanted was paramount. Their love and approval hinged on him being what they wanted him to be.

  “It hurt me when you called me fake,” he suddenly blurted, not sure where that came from but now that the pump was primed he couldn’t seem to shut up. “It hurt when you called me a B-list actor even though that is actually what I am. I want to be so much more, you know. I take pride in my work and the way you said it made it sound like I was some no-talent hack that got lucky.”

  If he thought she was going to be upset, he was wrong. Her expression was perfectly serious and she waited for him to continue, content to let him have his say without interruption.

  “I’m sorry about trying to control you, Paige, but frankly I’m not sure what to do with you. You keep coming at me with your honesty and your no-nonsense attitude and after years in Hollywood I don’t know how to deal with someone I’m not supposed to screw over. You’ve called me out on my behavior more in the last three days than all the women I’ve dated in the last five years combined. And it rubbed me the wrong way because you’re right. There’s a part of me that does think that I’m entitled to be a prick. That if I work hard I should get whatever I want even though I know intellectually that’s crazy. I feed off of the approval and attention and I’m not proud of that either. There’s a part of me that takes the applause and adulation as my due and I’m ashamed of that. And yes, that includes women too.”