His L.A. Cinderella. Trish Wylie
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been the worst timekeeper she’d ever known.
‘You’ll be late for your own funeral,’ she would tell him.
‘Ah, now, that’s the one time I can guarantee I’ll be on time,’ he would tease back with a smile.
Cassidy missed that Will.
The new Will was frowning behind his designer sunglasses the second he got out of his lowslung silver sports car. He said something to the uniformed man in charge of valet parking as he slipped him a folded bill, then pushed through the doors and removed his sunglasses before seeking her out. Four steps later he had his hand on the handle of her case.
‘Did you check out?’
‘Yes.’
‘Any problems?’
‘No. They said it was taken care of.’
With a nod he stepped back, watching her rise. ‘Feeling any better?’
It was said with just enough softness in his deep voice to make it sound as if he cared, which made Cassidy feel the need to sigh again. Instead she managed a small smile as she stood. ‘Yes. Thank you.’
Somewhere in the wee small hours of the night she had decided the best way not to be so physically aware of Will’s presence was to avoid looking at him whenever possible. So she didn’t make eye contact as she waited for him to load her case into the boot of his car. Instead she smiled at the liveried valet as he opened the passenger door for her—though she did almost embarrass herself again by trying to get in the wrong side of the car…
When Will got into the driver’s seat and buckled up she looked out of the side window to watch Rodeo Drive starting to think about coming to life. But they had barely pulled away from the hotel before he took advantage of the fact she was trapped.
‘Want to tell me what’s really bothering you about staying at my place?’
Not so much. No. She puffed her cheeks out for a second and controlled her errant tongue before answering. ‘We don’t know each other that well any more. It’s going be like spending time in a stranger’s house.’
There was a brief silence, then; ‘I disagree.’
Well, now, there was a surprise. They worked their way through intersections and filtered into traffic while Cassidy noticed all the differences that indicated she was in a different country from home. Larger cars, palm trees, billboards advertising things she’d never heard of before, different shaped traffic lights…
Will kept going. ‘We’re not strangers. People don’t change that much.’
She begged to differ. And if she hadn’t had living proof in herself then she had it in the man sitting so close to her in the confined space of what she now knew was a Mustang something-or-other—she’d seen a little tag somewhere. Not that she was going to turn her head to look for it again, if it meant she might end up catching a glimpse of him from her peripheral vision. Just being so close to him, so aware of every breath he took and every movement of his large hands or long legs, was enough for her to deal with, thanks very much.
‘Yes, they do. Life changes them. Experiences change them…’ She had a sudden brain-wave. ‘It’s exactly the kind of problem Nick and Rachel will have when they meet again.’
The mention of their fictional characters momentarily silenced Will. Then she heard him take a breath and let it out. ‘That’s true.’
So it was true for their fictional characters but not for them? How did that work? It was enough to make her turn her head and aim a suspicious sideways glance at his general gorgeousness. ‘It’s not like they’re going to trust each other either.’
‘Well, she did steal the artifact from him.’
‘No—she took it to give it back to its rightful owners. There’s a difference. He’d have sold it on the open market for whatever he could get.’
‘She lived off the money they made doing the same thing in the past. You can’t use that as an argument against him.’
‘Oh? Now we’re saying there has to be moral equivalency?’
Will shot her a quick yet intense gaze as they waited in traffic, his deep voice somehow more intense within the car’s interior. ‘It’s not the best plan to alienate everyone to the hero and heroine before we even get started, is it? There are always two sides to every story. You want to make him into a bad boy then you have to make the audience understand why his morals are lower than hers.’
‘Bad heroes sell. You can’t tell me they don’t. Bad heroines are universally hated.’ Cassidy lifted her chin, but she could feel the smile forming on her face. It was like one of their debates of old. ‘Unless you’re thinking of turning her evil—which, incidentally, you’ll do over my dead body. The audience needs to empathise with her. That’ll sell.’
‘Actually, I can tell you exactly what sells these days. Right now its superheroes and family-friendly.’ His long fingers flexed against the steering wheel. ‘The real money can be found in family-oriented movies, where good is good and bad is bad. It’s black and white. Moral equivalency needn’t apply. Last year seven films with a G or PG rating earned more than one hundred million at the domestic box office, and three PG-rated films were among the year’s top ten earners. Only one R-rated film was in the ten top grossing films—and there was no moral equivalency in that movie, I can assure you.’
The smile on her face faded and was replaced with blinking surprise as he recited it all in an even tone, negotiating increasing traffic at the same time. It seemed everyone in Los Angeles had a car.
He knew his stuff, didn’t he? Who was she to argue? Not that it stopped her. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t you just proved my point on moral equivalency?’
Silence. Then to her utter astonishment a burst of laughter—deep, rumbling, oh-so-very-male laughter—then a wry smile and a shake of his head. ‘It’s been a long time since anyone spoke to me the way you do.’
Cassidy blinked some more. ‘Maybe people should do it more often.’
‘If they did they’d get fired more often.’
The corners of her mouth tugged upwards. ‘Wow. Who knew you were a tyrant in the making, back in the day?’
‘I’m not a tyrant.’ He seemed surprised she thought he was.
‘No?’ Turning a little more towards him, she leaned her back against the passenger door and angled her head in question. ‘What are you, then?’
‘The boss.’
‘So no one can correct you when you’re wrong?’
‘They can put forward a different point of view, if that’s what you mean.’ He was forced to break eye contact with her to concentrate on where they were going. ‘No one ever does it the way you do, though.’
Cassidy couldn’t help but allow the chuckle of laugher forming in her chest to widen her smile. ‘So no one actually looks you in the eye and tells you you’re wrong?’
‘Not in so many words, no.’
No wonder he’d got so arrogant over the years. If no one ever stood up to him, or gave as good as they got, it would be a breeding ground for arrogance. Irrationally, it made her feel sorry for him. Everyone needed someone who cared enough about them to be brutally honest when it was needed. No one was ever right one hundred percent of the time, after all. Being blunt on the odd occasion to demonstrate another point of view showed you cared enough about them to try and save them from the kind of mistakes arrogance might make. To Cassidy, knowing no one did that for Will made him seem very…alone…
‘She’ll probably feel awkward when she sees him again.’
Huh? Oh, he meant Rachel, didn’t he? Right—script stuff. Stay with the flow of conversation, Cassidy. ‘I