Chapter Ten
Two days later, Justine and Sawyer still hadn’t tracked down Liann Linell. They’d logged enough frequent flyer miles to travel for another week. She’d put Veronica on the case, swearing her to silence, and a huge bonus if they found her. Sawyer called some guy named Larry, who he said could find anyone. So far, it was a wash.
All they’d found at Liann’s old, deserted house was a matchbook from a hotel in Los Angeles. They’d tried the hotel, and most of the other nicer hotels in the city, showing a grainy tabloid picture from a couple of years ago. Liann had been at the matchbook hotel. Three weeks ago.
They were staying in the penthouse apartment owned by Montgomery-Chase, like they were roomies who couldn’t stand to stay in the same room together. It was ridiculous. He didn’t speak to her. And she didn’t know what to say to him.
In the bathroom adjoining her bedroom, she washed her face. This wasn’t working. Liann Linell wasn’t going to fall into their laps. She couldn’t let go of this feeling that Liann would be perfect for this job. Plus Liann would be her way of making her mark on this show. If they went with Sawyer’s picks, it’d be all him. She needed to contribute. Still, she couldn’t take the polite silence much longer.
Justine pulled back her covers and sat down, crossing her legs. He wouldn’t stop insisting their attraction was trivial, and she couldn’t operate on that level. She’d been burned too many times not to take intimacy like that seriously. When every choice she made could blow up in her face, it couldn’t be for a few hours of fun.
For him, that part was integral. But how well did she know him, really? She didn’t even know his first name.
Now, she wanted things to be the way they were before. She could lust in secret and snark at him all day. And they’d laugh, and they’d work, and maybe they’d even be friends at some point. But this? This sucked.
A crash downstairs pulled her back from tail-chasing her thoughts, and she lifted her head to listen. Grabbing her red silk robe, she knotted the belt and walked out onto the balcony that circled the entrance to the penthouse.
Sawyer came out of his room in a pair of jeans and bare feet. She frowned for a moment, distracted from the possibility of a break-in by his nude stomach. The least he could do was put on some damn clothes.
He leaned down to look and then glanced back at her. “That wasn’t you?”
She shook her head and followed him down the stairs. He whispered, “Stay put.”
“Get over yourself,” she whispered back.
On the floor, past the stairs, lay a magazine. He picked it up and handed it to her, still looking around.
She flipped it to the cover. A tabloid. And front and center, the two of them the night she’d worn the slutty dress from hell. “Oh, my God.”
He jerked his head in her direction, and she handed the tabloid back to him. He looked at it then raised his gaze, full of annoyance. “It’s us.”
“Crap,” she muttered.
“Your musician’s going to be jealous.”
“Who left this here?”
At the sound of glass striking glass, Sawyer turned. They followed the noise, as someone muttered to himself, and pushed open the French doors to the study.
Travis stood by the bar in a large, ornately-furnished room used for business entertaining.
When Justine took a faltering step forward, Travis whirled to face her. “Justine.” He smiled at her with indulgence. “My life would be so much simpler if you weren’t such a hot, little bitch.”
God, hadn’t she left this craziness behind? “Well, thanks. You’re drunk.”
Sawyer walked around the room toward the bar.
She crossed her arms, wishing she’d put on some real clothes instead of coming down in her robe. “Why are you here, Travis?”
Holding up a glass in a toast, he slurred, “I came to congratulate the lovebirds.” He downed the drink and launched the glass against the wall where it shattered.
A coppery taste flooded her mouth, and she clutched her arms around her middle. “It’s none of your business.”
He crossed the room to stand in front of her. Sawyer stood at the bar, eyes wary.
“The two of you left that party. You went back to the hotel together.” Turning toward Justine, Travis said, “And I made sure you were not going to be telling anyone ‘no,’ so just…don’t fucking…lie to me.” He spat the last bit out, his teeth clenched.
Revulsion washed over her. “You’re disgusting.”
His hand shot out to grab her face, fingers on either side of her mouth. “You can’t win this game. You don’t even know the rules.”
Sawyer dropped the empty bottle he’d picked up. “Hey!”
Justine jerked away and put as much distance as possible between her and Travis. “Don’t ever put your hands on me again.” Her voice sounded breathless from fear, not nearly as pissed and dangerous as she wished it did.
“Or what?” he bellowed.
Sawyer gripped the sides of the bar. “You got maybe ten seconds to get the fuck out of here, Travis.”
Travis glanced at Sawyer before shooting his gaze back to Justine, advancing on her. “Don’t get involved in what doesn’t concern you.”
“Don’t make me.”
The measured control in Sawyer’s voice made Travis turn to stare at him. “You have no idea the damage I can do. She’s not worth the trouble it will cause you, not to you she’s not.”
“The satisfaction of kicking your ass would be plenty worth it.” Sawyer stepped from behind the bar and approached Travis.
Travis seemed to change his mind and turned on his heel, wobbling a bit. On his way out, he grabbed a new bottle and slammed the French doors behind him.
Justine gripped her arms, the emotions leeching away, leaving her cold. “Why is he here?”
“We’ll deal with him later. Are you okay?”
“How did he know we were here? Do you think he’s having us followed?”
“I’d say your father told him.” Settling on a stool, he avoided her gaze.
“How would my father know?” There were dozens of Montgomery-Chase apartments across the country, but it never occurred to Justine that her father would find out they were using one of them. It’s not like he got a call every time someone with a corporate ID checked into one. Wasn’t that a little detail someone else should handle?
“Did he hurt you?”
She ignored him because she didn’t know how to answer. Right now, she couldn’t feel anything. “How would he know?”
At first, he didn’t respond. He grabbed a bottle and splashed amber liquid into a glass. “Because Daniel called me, and I told him.”
She tilted her head, like a dog listening for something faint, because she couldn’t have heard him right. “Why?”
“Because keeping an eye on you is my job until this is over.”
So many emotions crashed over her, she couldn’t pick one to react to. At last, in some crazy mode of self-protection, she picked the least painful. “Well, that explains why I wanted to sleep with you.”
It was his turn to look confused. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve been here before.” She turned away from him, trudging for the stairs. For her room. For some place she could be alone and stop trying to fight the betrayal and anger piercing her.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She climbed the stairs, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “Forget it.” Just inside the bedroom, she tried to slow her racing mind enough to decide what to pack first.
“Justine.”
Damn him, he’d followed her. Couldn’t he let her do what she needed to do? “What?”
“Would you look at me?”
“No.”
He walked around to stand in front of her and she stared into the space beside him. “You’re mad at me, I get that. But your father offered me the promotion of a lifetime five minutes after I met you to keep an eye on you and maybe let some stupid talk show die.”
Justine shifted her gaze to his face, irritated that her eyes filled with tears. “Some stupid talk show?” She barked a bitter laugh as the first tear streaked down her face. “You have no idea what this is about.”
“Then tell me.”
She pushed her way past him to grab at the tissues in a wooden box on the bed stand. “Call my father and ask him. I’m not telling you another thing.” She closed her eyes, shook her head, and swiped at her nose. “This is so like my father. He gets me to agree to high stakes and lets me think I have help, and he offers you some stupid job to pretend to help and implies it’s no big deal.”
“I’d just met you. I…” He shrugged. “It’s not a stupid job.”
“Don’t care.”
“But I think you can do it. I don’t think the show has to fail.”
“You wouldn’t have agreed to this if you gave a damn about the show. Or me. Which you’ve told me like a thousand times you don’t, so I don’t know why I expected more from you. I have to get out of here.”
“I’ll go pack, and then we’ll figure out our next move.”
“Sure, let’s do that.”
He left, shutting her door behind him, and she couldn’t stop the tears, because holy stupidity what was wrong with her? This was like…oh, every other time her father got involved in her life. No one could resist the money and power of Daniel Montgomery.
She packed, changed her clothes. Who cared about how she looked? For the first time in her adult life, she planned to go out in public with messy hair and no makeup. She’d believed she might be able to forge a new life with this show. A life that was about more than which designer she was wearing or whether her nails were done. Her mother had taught her those things mattered. The need to pay utilities and eat had taught her that, too. She didn’t know if she could find her way back there, but it wouldn’t be tonight.
At the bottom of the stairs, Sawyer waited for her. They didn’t speak in the cab or while they waited in line to buy their tickets home. Justine gratefully accepted the numbness that wrapped her up and kept her safe until she could get away from him.
In molded plastic chairs at the airport, they sat, a few seats between them. Sawyer stretched out his long legs and she curled up into her seat, head on her knees. She said, “I know this isn’t your fault. You tried to tell me what kind of person you are.”
“Oh, screw this. I didn’t do anything to you. I made sure you didn’t get hurt, like oh…tonight, and I filled your father in. What’s the big deal?”
“You didn’t do anything tonight.”
“Your father would’ve had the three of us back in his office by morning if I’d done what I wanted to do to him. You don’t think it would’ve been worse if I hadn’t thrown him out?”
“Worse than this? I don’t think that’s possible. On a positive note, you’ll make a nice profit when my father buys you off.”
He lifted his head to stare at her, bleary-eyed. “What are you talking about?”
“My father. He’ll pay you to stay away from me.”
“Honey, I’d pay him if he’d let me stay away from you.”
“Everything is so out of control. How did I ever think I could do this?”
He pulled his feet in closer and crossed his arms. “Stop trying to control everything. It’s not your style.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean you bring chaos with you. It follows you around like perfume. Ride it out, like a wave. Let it carry you in.”
“Stop trying to be someone I’m not.” She stood to pace the bank of chairs. “Stop trying…okay so far, we’ve been trying to fly under the radar.” She looked at him, half-dozing through her rant. “I have, at least. Which doesn’t really matter now.”
She paced back and forth before him, as he fought his drowsy eyes. “Sit down, you’re making me dizzy.”
“Good, I hope you puke your guts out.” She looked around the unfamiliar airport. “You think they have coffee here?”
Stubble shadowed his face, triggering the desire to feel it against her skin, and her heart clenched. That door had closed. He stood up and stretched. “I’ll go find you some. Try to wind down a little before I get back, so I don’t have to kill you.”
He swaggered away, growling about crazy women and a curse. Once they were home and he was gone, she’d let her heart mourn. Because regardless of all the warnings he’d issued, all the denial she’d tried, she’d seriously fallen for this man.
But her father had manipulated the situation. And Sawyer had betrayed her. She couldn’t do this, not again.
He handed her the coffee and settled back into his seat. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m never speaking to you again.”
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Do that.” Because right then, she knew what to do.