Page 77 of Tempting as Sin
“So tell me,” Rafe said. “What happened? How was I learning to ride a horse one minute, being Clay Austin, and the next, Antonio bloody Carrera is bashing my new girlfriend in front of a tribe of tabloid journos?” All right, he was losing it a little on the “calm” front.
“Best I can tell,” Alan said, “somebody called him for a statement yesterday, because they found out you were up there, post-Kylie,andinvolved with his ex. He decided to make a stronger statement, apparently. That was a messy divorce on his part, a messy broken engagement onyourpart, you’re his co-star, and it’s Antonio Carrera, publicity whore. It looks fairly incestuous, or like there were points being scored. Rumor has it there was no love lost between the two of you. Rumor also has it that this is why.”
“Whose rumor?”
“Isadora Grant.”
“Sleeping with Carrera,” Rafe pointed out.
Alan sighed. “You know how this goes. It’s part of the business.”
“It’s not part of Lily’s.”
“What are we doing, then?” Alan asked. “Denial?”
“No,” Rafe said. “No denial. No comment. Lily and I spoke for ourselves out there. You’ll see.”
He hung up. Lily said, “Thanks. Oh, man. Is this ever a mess.” She put her fingers to her forehead. He wished he knew how bruised she was from that fall onto the steps. Hip, ribs. She’d hit hard, and it all had to be hurting.
“You need a bath,” he said. “Do you have Epsom salts? And what about Tylenol?”
She laughed, though it didn’t sound too flash. “Rafe. We justdidEpsom salts.”
“I know. And don’t you think you need some more?”
“Maybe,” she said, and went on looking tired. “But I don’t have any. Besides, I need to get ready for tomorrow, for the shop. For the week. I need…” She raised a hand, then dropped it. “Whatever. So many things. I need to get started on doing them. And you don’t have clean clothes.”
“Right.” He sat there another moment and thought. “Do you want me here? Or do you want me to leave?”
“Here,” she said at once. “Whoops.” Another shaky smile. “I didn’t mean that to sound so needy. But if you’re asking, then—please. Here.”
“Ah.” He’d have given anything to take that worried look off her face.One step at a time, mate.He punched a button on the phone.
“Who are you calling?” she asked.
“Martin. Fortunately—” He gave her a gentle kiss on her uninjured cheek. “Martin’s magic.”
The doorbell rang before Lily had finished her second cup of tea. Chuck jumped up, raced over, and started to bark, his tail wagging with wild excitement, like he’d heard journalists came bearing steaks for good dogs. Lily was just about to take a dive to the carpet when the ring was followed by a knock that sounded coded.Rat-tat-a-tat-tat.Rafe said, “Martin,” and went to open the door.
Martin blew in with his quizzical face, his black glasses, four grocery bags, and one suitcase, endured some ecstatic banging of the plastic cone against his legs, gave Chuck a few pats, and left the suitcase by the door. “Honey,” he told Lily, heading for the kitchen, “if some A-lister goes on a drunken tirade in Hollywood tonight, it’s going to be like a tree falling in the forest and nobody hearing it, because everybody’s up here. I wanted to pull my jacket over my head and do the Perp Walk, and then I remembered that they don’t care about me. And let me tell you from Assistant-ville—you’ve moved up in the world, partner-wise. Although it doesn’t look like Idoneed to tell you. Let me see that.” Lily, who’d finally gotten Chuck back onto his dog bed, pulled the ice pack away from her face, and Martin winced in a theatrical fashion that made her want to smile. “Ouch,” he said. “That’s got to hurt. I always knew he was an asshole.” He asked Rafe, “Didn’t I tell you he was an asshole? Drama queen. High maintenance. All the bad words. Did you hit him? Tell me you hit him.”
“I hit him,” Rafe said.
Martin was working as he talked, unpacking grocery bags onto the counter. Two cartons of Epsom salts, two bottles of white wine and one of red, what looked like three days’ worth of groceries, heavy on the steak and chicken, and a six-pack of local beer. Moose Drool. “Got to feed the werewolf,” he told Lily when he pulled it out of the bag. “Australians. I figured you had vegetables. Rafe told me about the garden. Hailey told me about the garden.Everybodytold me about the garden. And now that I’ve seen it, they didn’t tell me enough. How many fruit trees do you have, anyway? What are you trying to do up here, feed the world?”
Lily climbed onto a kitchen stool, ignored the aches as best she could, and said, “Nope. Just myself and some of Sinful. Twelve trees. I like to make jam and freeze fruit for winter. It makes me happy. We all have hobbies. How did you possibly come up with all thisandpack Rafe’s clothes in that amount of time? And you’re right about Antonio, of course.”
“Magical powers,” Martin said. “Or more like I’ve been stocking up, sensing that the powers would be needed. Rafe was never going to be able to hide up here, and I knew who you were, remember. And you don’t have to tell me I’m right. Carrera can’t keep an assistant, and he’s never figured out that we talk, because we’re about as alive to him as tree bark. Part of the furniture. Self-centered would be one word. Want to hear all my secrets, though? I hope so, because I’m dying to tell you. Also, do you want wine? I’d want wine.”
Smiling hurt, and Lily was smiling anyway, enjoying the luxury that was Martin putting away her groceries and taking the opportunity to reorganize her fridge while he was at it. “Yes, please,” she said, while Rafe leaned against the wall, crossed one ankle over the other, and accepted a bottle of beer like the relaxed man he sometimes was.
“Now, glasses,” Martin said. “Where? Ah.” He opened a bottle of Chardonnay with the assurance of a sommelier, poured a very generous glass, and handed it over. “You always want your favorite under stress, right? This is a Tolpuddle Vineyard 2011. Tasmania. The werewolf likes to support the homeland.”
Lily took a sip.Creamywas one word. “Wow. Don’t tell me they stock this in Kalispell.”
“I had my new best friend order a few things. His name’s Mark Morrison, for future reference. Very knowledgeable. If you venture into red territory, I’ve got a Shiraz here that will blow your mind. I’m trying to be indispensable, you see.Montanaindispensable. Dr. Ezra took me kayaking Saturday night, and I’ve been discovering a newfound love of the great outdoors ever since. Though I draw the line at gardening. I’m from the Midwest, and, honey,fromis the word. I don’t do dirt anymore. I’m putting that out there just in case. I don’t have enough to do up here, though, even handling Rafe’s financials and his houses, and he knows it. He never wants me to bring him lattes or exercise his guinea pig or call the hairdresser about his highlights even in LA, and up here, he’s worse. Which leaves me seriously underemployed. I don’t want him to send me back, which would make being able to helpyoumanna from heaven. Except that you had to get hit in the face, of course. But other than that.”
“Well, thanks. I think.” Lily took another long sip of cool, golden nectar, letting the full flavors of grapefruit and peach drift over her tongue and down her throat, and eyed the Epsom salts. She could take her wine into the tub with her. Yeah, baby.
