Page 11 of California Dreaming

And that was it. Jay had played his power card. Arch had to hand it to him—the man knew how to strike a deal. Obviously, Arch wanted the action movie. If it went well, it could be the beginning of something huge. He knew how important these franchises were. The news that he’d been offered an action role somewhat mollified him, but he was still really unhappy about the idea of being stuck in a cast with a caregiver helping him get around inside his own home.

Giving Arch a few moments to think things through, his agent got up and went to the window. “I sure love this view. Must be one of the finest in the world.” Then he grinned over his shoulder at Arch. “You keep doing the big movies I get for you and with the money I make off you, I might buy one myself.”

Arch laughed. Jay had already made plenty of money from his string of A-listers. Peace had been made between them. And he had to admit, life was always better when it was peaceful.

While Jay turned back to take in the view once more, Arch suddenly had a brilliant idea. Now that he’d thought of it, he couldn’t believe it had taken him all this time to come up with it. If he had to have a full-time, live-in caregiver, there was only one person he’d consider.

Tessa Taylor.

She’d been on his mind ever since they’d met, and this would be the perfect opportunity to get to know her better. He would just have to think of a way to convince her to split her time between him and Margaret. He was sure Margaret would thank him, given that she liked being taken care of even less than he did. He smiled to himself, remembering how gorgeous Tessa had looked when they first met on the beach and then again at his dad’s birthday party.

The warmth in Tessa’s eyes had captivated him. It had been a long time since he’d felt sparks like that. Sparks that fizzed and crackled with all the heat of a late-night campfire.

So he said to Jay, “If I have to have a caregiver, there’s only one I want. Her name is Tessa Taylor.”

Chapter Six

“You’re not ready,” Tessa said, placing both hands on her hips to show Margaret she meant business. “I can’t leave you.”

The two women were in Margaret’s kitchen, stubbornly facing each other across the oak table. Between them, a pot of steaming black coffee and a plate of bagels and cream cheese lay untouched. When Tessa’s agency had called to say she’d been requested for work elsewhere in Carmel, she’d been surprised, having been scheduled for another week with Margaret. Margaret must have encouraged one of her many male admirers to put in the call. It was just the kind of devious plan her mind was capable of conjuring.

Over the weeks they’d been working together, Tessa had grown genuinely fond of Margaret. Not only did she admire her whip-smart mind and zest for life, but she’s also seen her softer side. The marshmallow in all of us, Tessa liked to call it. Some people were better at disguising it than others, but deep down, everyone had something soft and squishy about them. Margaret was no different. But she also knew how to put up a fight. She was an inimitable sparring partner.

But then they’d told Tessa the client was Archer Davenport, who had broken his leg while filming. She couldn’t have been more surprised, couldn’t imagine such a strong, vital man wounded. Her first instinct had been to rush to his side, but then her sense of self-preservation kicked in. Given that she clearly hadn’t overcome her embarrassingly big schoolgirl crush on the man, was it really a good idea for her to work with him? Especially given that she wouldn’t just be making meals for him. Heck, just getting him up the stairs to his bedroom would involve more touching than she could imagine without feeling hot all over.

Margaret leaned across the table, lifted the coffeepot, and poured them both a cup. She was dressed as impeccably as ever—chunky silver jewelry around her throat and wrists, white hair swept back off her face. She was fully made up and dressed for the day, no matter if it was only ten o’clock. Tessa had forced her patient through her morning exercises, and a leisurely late breakfast was supposed to be their reward. But now the plate of sliced bagels couldn’t have looked less appetizing.

Margaret took a long sip of her coffee, eyeing Tessa the whole time. “I’m so much better now. That horrid cast is off, and I’m doing my exercises. I’m already looking online at walking tours of Ireland.”

Tessa let out a great sigh. Would she ever be able to get through to Margaret? One step at a time was Tessa’s tried and tested motto, but Margaret took that one step and ran with it to a hundred. There was no way she was ready for a walking tour of Ireland. It was true she had made remarkable progress given her years, but grit would only get you so far.

“You can’t rush healing,” Tessa said gently.

The change of tone did the trick. Margaret’s sparkling eyes softened. She reached for a sliced bagel and placed it delicately on her floral china plate. “The agency called me to check that I no longer needed you. I said you’ve done a marvelous job and I now have the energy and agility of my forty-year-old self. Maybe even thirty. My dear, you’ve helped me heal, but your job here is done. Someone else needs you now.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

But Margaret was not to be swayed. “Working for Archer Davenport will be the perfect next job for you. You can stay in Carmel, so I’ll be able to see you when I’m in town. I’ll let you give me a little check-up every now and then, just to prove how well I’m doing.” Margaret bit into her bagel, clearly pleased with herself. After she swallowed, she said, “I’m going to miss you, but it’s time for you to move on. Arch called me personally last night to make sure that I could manage without you and that you were the kind of person he could work with. I gave you a glowing reference.”

Tessa’s eyebrows shot up. The kind of person a movie star could work with. Who was that, exactly? Tessa had grown accustomed to spotting a few movie stars and celebrities during her time in Carmel, but she wasn’t exactly used to the limelight. Or helping them put on their shoes.

What would Archer Davenport be like as a boss? From their brief meetings, he’d seemed about as down-to-earth as someone that good-looking and famous could be. She recalled the way he’d chivalrously opened the car door for her as she left his father’s party. How he’d leaned in so casually to kiss her cheek, with no idea of the effect he’d had on her.

Just thinking about it sent a quiver of longing through her. But it was quickly followed by another stab of concern. All she currently knew about his injury was that he’d broken his tibia doing a stunt. Whether it was a clean break, or shattered in a more complicated fashion, she’d yet to find out. Either way, he was going to need some intensive physical therapy to get him back on set. The problem was that Tessa wasn’t sure her mind could remain clear—or clean—enough to be that therapist. Just the thought of Archer Davenport made her tremble with desire that wasn’t the least bit professional.

Tessa realized Margaret was still waiting for her to respond. “I’m not convinced you’re fully healed,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

Margaret made a clucking sound. “I’m out of my cast and doing my daily exercises.”

“Which I have to nag you about every day,” Tessa reminded her. “Goodness knows what bad habits you’ll fall into without me around to annoy you.” Tessa flashed her best cheeky smile.

But her winsome grin was lost on Margaret. “You’re not giving up the chance to shack up with a movie star to keep me company, which we both know is all you’re doing at this point.” She paused and gave Tessa an inquiring look. “Most women would jump at the opportunity to work with Archer Davenport. What’s stopping you?”

Tessa blushed. Trust Margaret to call her out. But it wasn’t like she could articulate the sense of unease that weighed heavily on her chest. “I’ve seen his movies. He’s so alpha. What if he won’t listen to me?” She left out the bit about how he made her feel weak in the knees… and how a childhood crush on a big star could never end well for a normal woman like her.

Margaret laughed and unconsciously smoothed her glossy chignon, though not a hair was out of place. She’d finished one bagel slice and was already halfway through another. At least she had her appetite back. Maybe Margaret was doing better than she’d thought.

“If you can make me listen to you, Archer Davenport will be a piece of cake. Believe me. I’ve known him since he was a boy. You won’t find a sweeter nature.” Margaret smiled devilishly. “Plus, I daresay he’s a lot easier on the eyes than I am.”

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