Living Dangerously

Chapter Seven



Troy leaned back against the headrest of his BMW as Ari’s limo—parked only three cars in front of him—pulled away from the curb. He set his camera on the passenger seat and closed his eyes. Damn. Why’d he have to see it up close and personal? He hated this job. More than any job he’d ever had in his life. He hated Sophia Nepali for hiring him and paying so much goddamned money, and he hated Julie Fraser for having an affair with Ari.

The proof was in the pictures. He’d snapped four of them. Four perfect pictures of Ari kissing Julie.

Yeah, he hated this job.

Of course, it was a quick visit as far as f*cking went, but he’d seen it before. Get in and get out. Literally. Maybe Ari had someplace to be.

Maybe Troy should just quit. He could give Sophia her money back and leave Hollywood altogether. But starting over now held very little appeal. Besides, he was as far away from home as he could get and he wanted to stay that way.

His cell phone rang and yanked him back to the present. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked the screen.

Julie.

Wasn’t that interesting? Damn his pulse for jumping.

He punched the talk button and tried his best to sound casual. “Hey. How’re the scrapes?” He had similar ones from crawling through two inches of broken glass.

“Healing. What about you?”

He kept his eyes on the house. “Same.” Why was she calling him if Ari just left? That was only one of the questions flying through his brain. He waited for her to say something and when she didn’t, an odd sense of trouble prickled the hair on his neck. Was it possible that what he’d just seen at her front door wasn’t what it appeared to be? Though they’d definitely kissed, she hadn’t been all over Ari. In fact, thinking back on it, she’d been stiff and unresponsive...and he wanted to see those pictures again to look for things he should’ve looked for the first time around. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Three coyotes emerged from some bushes two doors away and headed downhill toward Julie’s place.

“I guess,” she said quietly. “Are you working right now? Ari was just here and I didn’t see you so I didn’t know if you had the night off.”

He did have the night off, specifically so he could tail Ari and snap the pictures he needed. He’d been parked for thirty minutes before Ari got there. His zoom lens had no problem with the distance. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m a free bird.”

“I’ve been thinking about something, and I thought since you work in security, you might be able to help me.”

He shouldn’t have been disappointed, but he was. She wanted to talk business. The other night he’d been sure she wanted him and now all she wanted was his security expertise. Unless that was just her excuse. Not that he could act on it anyway. “What do you need?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve been in my house almost ten years and I love it, but other than an alarm, I don’t have a fence or other type of gate for security. My house is too close to the street to really build something, and I guess I need someone to tell me if I’m right on my assumption and I should move, or if I can secure my house and stay here.” She paused and sighed. “I know. Stupid question. If you don’t want to help me, then I wonder if you know someone who can.”

Even as she spoke, he studied the layout of the house. It was long and deep, and she was right about it being on top of the street. Building a wall would kill the curb appeal. Although staying alive beat out curb appeal any day of the week. But she’d clearly put work into the place, and the small amount of landscaping required for the front was top-notch gorgeous. A wall would kill the whole look. The front porch light switched on and the coyotes froze in the middle of her lawn, sniffing the air.

Troy sat up straighter in his seat, a thin line of panic crawled up his spine. “It’s not stupid, and what makes you think I wouldn’t want to help you?” Did she doubt him, his experience, or was it something else?

“I don’t know. I just don’t know how busy Ari keeps you. I wondered if you’d be able to come over, take a look at my place and give me your best advice. I’m happy to pay for your time.” Her voice cut out as if she’d jostled the phone.

“I don’t think that would be necessary,” he said. “What are you doing?” The idea of her walking outside right now with three hungry coyotes in her yard had adrenaline rushing through his veins. He reached in the glove compartment for the gun he only used in target practice. He’d purchased it to use on the job, but he’d thankfully never had to. He’d learned early on that the presence of a weapon escalated a situation and he wasn’t a fan of that type of escalation.

“I ordered a new citronella candle for my front porch and just unwrapped it. I thought I’d put it out.”

“Don’t.”

She paused. “Excuse me?”

“I mean...” He scrambled to find the thread of their conversation. “Don’t do it right this second. Describe your house to me and let’s see if I can’t help you over the phone.”

“Oh.” Did she sound bummed or was that his imagination working overtime? “I thought maybe you could come see it one of these days. Maybe take a walk through and tell me what I should do to secure it better.”

An invitation to her place. The world got weirder and weirder.

He’d already told her he was a free bird tonight, but he couldn’t tell her he’d be right over. No way could he face her after watching her kiss Ari.

She must have taken his silence as a negative response waiting to happen. “Look, I don’t want you to think after all you’ve done that I expect anything more from you. I owe you my life. I haven’t forgotten that. I never will. I also don’t want you to think that you can’t get rid of me...if...you know...you wanted to get rid of me.”

Troy would’ve laughed if those coyotes hadn’t been lingering in her yard. He checked the safety was off on his H-K Compact .45. Get rid of her? Hardly. He’d already admitted to liking her so the beans were spilled. But it didn’t change the fact that he’d put himself in a damn screwy predicament. “I’m happy to help if I can.”

“I’m up in the canyons,” she continued. “I’ve got a one-level ranch-style house.” Her front door swung open and the coyotes crouched low.

“F*ck,” he muttered. He shifted in his seat, ready to bolt out of the car.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He needed to warn her without blowing his position. “I don’t think I’d love a canyon home, not with all the wild animals hovering.” And hovering they were. “But I can probably arrange to be there in the next day or two. Hey, you don’t go outside at night without checking the yard, right?”

“Um.”

Her door shut and the custom shades parted as she glanced outside. “Oh, my God!” she breathed. Yep, she’d spotted the coyotes.

“What?”

“Three coyotes are on my lawn and I just nearly went out front. I think you might’ve just saved me again.”

He let his head fall back against the seat rest, relief rushing through him. “Ah, well, you know...all in a day’s work.” After slipping the gun back into the glove compartment, he watched the coyotes continue down the hill.

“I meant to ask, did you talk to the police at all about the shooting the other night?”

“Yeah, but they didn’t have anything new to tell me. I don’t think they look too fondly at hired muscle asking questions.” Actually, he’d left a message with his contact and as soon as the man came back from vacation, he planned to try again. “Why?”

“I guess I figured you’re all in the same business and I didn’t know if anyone had confided anything that the press hadn’t heard about. No one’s certainly told me anything.” She sounded insulted. “I mean if I am the real target here, I think I’m entitled to know how the case is progressing.”

He nodded. “I agree.”

She stayed quiet on the line and Troy wanted to say screw it to this whole operation, knock on her door and take her to bed. Except the image of her with Ari burned a hole in his brain and he couldn’t get past it.

“Troy?”

He loved the way she said his name. “Yeah.”

“If I offered to top Ari’s paycheck, would you come work for me?”

Jesus Christ. He hadn’t seen that coming. “Uh.” F*ck. He had no idea what to say.

“I know this is out of the blue, but I don’t know anyone else and I trust you. The LAPD has officers checking my house every few hours, but they can’t afford to station a car outside full time. I know Ari would be furious as hell with me and it might even cost me the movie, but...after everything that’s happened between the Sporties and the other night, I feel like I should have a little more protection.”

He couldn’t argue with that. But he wasn’t working for Ari. He was on Sophia’s payroll. And Sophia could do serious damage to his reputation if she decided to badmouth him to the press or start gossiping in social circles. To lose his business the same way he’d built it would be ironic as hell.

“I’ll have to think on that,” he said. “But thank you for the offer.” He already knew he didn’t want to be a hired hand. They’d end up in bed, and he’d collect a check and feel like a twenty-first-century gigolo. Then she’d get tired of him and toss him out. He was forgetting the most important part of this whole charade. He wasn’t a f*cking bodyguard. He was a private investigator working his first undercover job to get the dirt on a smarmy producer. He had no plans to take this to another level. He already hated the extent of the lies he’d told.

“Okay. I guess I’ll let you get back to your night.” She sounded sad and he didn’t want to let her go.

“I’m not doing anything exciting,” he told her. “Just waiting for laundry to finish up.”

Apparently, he’d become fairly efficient with the lies.

“Lucky you,” she said. He heard the smile in her voice.

“What are you up to besides unwrapping citronella candles?” he asked. Maybe he could approach this from a different angle. Not that he expected a confession, but maybe she’d confide in him and he could wrap up the case for Sophia and get back to his real life.

“I just had a meeting with Ari,” she said.

“Yeah, you mentioned that.” Did her definition of the word meeting match his? “How’d it go?”

“Oh, you know Ari. He’s like almost every other producer in town. Full of shit.”

That didn’t particularly sound like a woman in love with a man. Not that they had to be in love to f*ck. Troy had worked in this town long enough to know that people f*cked for all sorts of reasons, the least of which included love.

“Does that mean he told you something you didn’t want to hear?” Troy asked.

“More like he didn’t tell me anything—most especially what I want to hear. I’m sorry. I’m not making sense. He’s just dicking me around because he knows he can. Sorry for my French.”

Troy chuckled. Her French only proved how wholesome she really was. Which chalked up another reason that he didn’t see Julie f*cking Ari. He picked up the camera and started scrolling though the pictures, focusing on the actual body language.

“Did Ari—” he wasn’t sure how to phrase it without letting the cat out of the bag, “—do something that made you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“Yes. No.” She sighed. “I don’t know.”

The one thing he hadn’t considered was a lover’s quarrel. Maybe they were lovers, but Ari had pissed Julie off somehow. That would explain her body language and the tone of the conversation. Troy hated that potential road because it meant he was right about Ari and Julie in the first place.

“What did he do?” Might as well go for the whole enchilada.

“He pushes,” she said. “I don’t like when he pushes. It makes me want to push back.” She paused and Troy waited for her to continue. “Do you ever feel like you’re paying too much to do the thing you love to do?”

Troy nodded. Was she reading his mind? Odd that they felt the same way about their lives. Odd and maybe a little sad. “Yeah. I feel like that a lot of the time lately.”

The line beeped. “Oh, I should probably get that. It’s my mom.”

“Go ahead,” he told her.

“You’ll think about my offer?” she asked.

“I will.”

“Great. Okay. Thanks. Talk to you soon. Bye.” She disconnected and Troy stared at her name on the screen until it went to black. What kind of trouble was he about to get himself into?

* * *

Allen couldn’t believe his good luck. It had been more than six weeks since the Sporties shooting and he’d been trying to contact Julie ever since. He’d tried her agency and her publicist but no one ever returned a call. She’d want to thank him for the flowers he’d sent. She was nice that way. Problem was she’d gotten out of the hospital much quicker than he’d anticipated and he hadn’t had a chance to send her another arrangement. He’d thought he’d have more time and hadn’t signed his full name or left any contact number. Stupid. For a technical genius, he had to admit he lacked certain social skills. Sometimes he did things before he thought them out thoroughly. Not with his games, but with people. Especially people he really liked. Or loved.

But he’d seen a promotion yesterday and discovered that Julie had an appearance on an L.A. morning show. He’d woken up super early and driven to the lot. He found a parking place right out in front of the studio gates. He saw her pull in, driving a new Prius, and smiled at her attempt to conserve fuel and help the environment. That was just like her and just another reason for him to love her even more. No fancy cars for his girl. He’d have to splurge on her once they got married. He’d buy her something decadent. Something she could drive on special occasions. He’d have to force her, but she’d finally cave and she’d love him even more because he loved to spoil her. She needed spoiling.

After waiting three hours, he followed her out of the studio. She met her best friend for an early lunch, and Allen felt privileged to see them together. To see how much they joked and smiled at each other. He’d seen Carrie Ann Larkin in a few movies, but mostly he’d quit watching her because she wasn’t as good as Julie.

After lunch, he followed Julie home. He kept a decent distance behind her. In fact, he nearly lost her once they got into the winding canyon roads. He saw her enter her garage and watched the door slide down as he drove slowly by.

Now, parked outside her house, excitement made his pulse race. He knew Julie Fraser’s address. This information was better than a line of coke and got him just as high.

Now he could really begin to know her. Or more important, she could really begin to know him. He’d send her all the things she loved most. Then when she was dying to know who he was, he’d introduce himself. He’d knock on her door and she’d open it. He’d hand over a vase of her favorite flowers and she’d know instinctively that he was the one behind all the gifts. She’d fly into his arms with a smile on her face and once he set foot inside her door, she’d never want him to leave. He got hard thinking about how she’d welcome him. She’d want him immediately, want to tear his clothes off, but he’d stop her, tell her they needed to go more slowly. Instead, she’d strip for him. She’d peel off her clothes one item at a time until she stood completely naked in front of him. The power of being fully dressed while she stood bare would make him harder and she’d beg him to take her right there on her living room sofa.

Completely hard now, Allen eased his zipper down and pushed his palm against his erection. He imagined Julie on her knees in front of him, begging to take him in her mouth. She’d want to thank him for all the gifts he’d sent. Want to make sure he knew how much she cared about him. He’d let her ease down his pants and she’d smile at his size. Allen pulled his penis out of his boxers and gripped it tight.

“Suck me,” he’d tell her. And she would. Like a dream. She’d look up at him as he pumped deep. Her hot mouth and talented tongue would take him to the brink...and beyond.

The wet warmth of his orgasm flooded his hand and his boxers. “Shit,” he muttered, breathing hard. He grabbed a towel from the floorboard. His mother hated dirt in the car and always kept towels for rainy days or spills. He chuckled...yes, he’d certainly spilled.

After cleaning up as best he could, Allen took a deep breath and started the car. He made a U-turn and headed home. He had to plan this seduction perfectly. Julie Fraser belonged to him.

* * *

Julie fluffed her hair and glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until Troy. He’d called her that morning and said he had time in the afternoon if she still wanted him to check out her house. She’d jumped at the opportunity. It had taken her thirty minutes to decide on a body-hugging white T-shirt, skinny jeans and white, four-inch heels. Casual, but hip.

She’d been on the phone with the police after talking to Troy. Because too many of the people at the party the other night had also been at the Sporties, the officer had said that chances of someone specifically shooting at her were an even fifty-fifty.

Julie had other ideas.

That first bullet had whizzed past her. She’d felt the air and heard it as it zipped by a split second before the glass shattered. Troy had put it best: if she hadn’t spun on him, she’d have been hit in the chest.

The police could call her paranoid. She didn’t care. She needed protection. Most major box office draws had bodyguards. Maybe she was lucky to have gone this long without one. But times changed and she needed to change with them.

She heard a car pull up in her short driveway. Because of the narrow street, the only available parking was on the other side of the road, and at the moment a line of trucks filled the spots due to construction on the house four doors away.

After a last quick check in the mirror and one last fluff of her hair, she headed toward the front door. She heard the knock as she moved down the hall. Without looking out the peephole, she swung open the door and nearly got knocked in the face with a giant bouquet of roses. She couldn’t even see the man holding them.

Troy had brought her flowers? Her giddiness doubled, but the man turned sideways and Julie’s hopes crashed. Tall, yes, but this guy sported a buzz cut and blue eyes. Not Troy. He wore a Mary’s Flowers T-shirt and had a clipboard stuffed under his armpit.

“Delivery for you,” he said. He looked at her oddly as if he thought he might know her. She got that look often enough. Of course, some die-hard fans always knew who she was, but some people had missed her show and had only seen one or two films, and those were the ones who couldn’t figure out where they’d seen her before. She couldn’t forget the hair. Since she’d gone back to her natural color, people faltered.

“Wow. That is a giant arrangement,” she said, taking the large vase with at least two dozen red and pink roses swimming in baby’s breath and setting it on the mosaic table inside the doorway. That sucker was heavy.

“If you could sign here,” he said, handing over the clipboard. He pointed to a line in the middle of the page and Julie scribbled her name. He took a look when she handed it back and a slow grin curved his lips as his eyes widened. “Julie Fraser,” he said. “Hey, you were great in Dangerous Race. I loved that movie.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”

“Even my girlfriend liked it and she hates racing.”

Julie nodded again. She’d heard the same thing hundreds of times. “Glad you both enjoyed it.”

He stood there another few seconds smiling and a three-letter word jumped into Julie’s Head. Tip.

She reached for her purse on the entry table and whipped out a five dollar bill. “Here you go. Thank you.” She handed him the cash as Troy pulled up. “Oh, my friend is here. I told him he could pull up since there’s no parking on the street.”

The delivery guy got her message and nodded as he walked backward toward the truck. “Sure. Sorry about that. Nice to meet you,” he said with a farewell wave.

Julie waved back as he pulled out and Troy pulled in.

This incident only proved what an enormous idiot she really was. She’d opened the door without checking. Her sniper with a gun could’ve been waiting for her instead of a deliveryman with flowers. Giant ass flowers. That obviously, once again, were not from Troy. Because he clearly would’ve brought them himself right now.

He got out of a gorgeous black BMW. Apparently bodyguards made good money. “Hey,” he said as he walked closer. Wearing dark jeans, black boots, sunglasses and black T-shirt, he looked more like a biker than a bodyguard. He glanced over his shoulder at the disappearing delivery truck. “Flowers from Ari?” he asked.

She laughed. “I doubt it.” Maybe if she’d put out, but he wasn’t going to woo her with flowers. He was using his movie.

“Did you find the place okay?”

He studied the citronella candle on the wrought iron porch table and nodded. “No problems.” He removed his sunglasses, and his very clear once-over from head to toe sent a thrill of victory through her blood. Her skin tingled as if he’d touched her physically.

Score one for her fashion sense.

“Great.” Her palms got sweaty. She clapped them together once. “Okay then...let me show you the house.” She opened the door wider. “This way.” Duh. God, when was the last time she’d been so nervous around a man? She couldn’t even remember. Come to think of it, she’d never been this nervous around a man. Excited, yes, happy and expectant, yes, but not this palm sweat/parched mouth nervous.

Troy followed her into the house and stopped in the foyer. “Nice place,” he said, taking a slow look around. He absorbed everything. She could see his mind working as he scanned the open floor plan. The entry opened up into one of two great rooms. This more formal space had a ten-seat, marble-and-glass topped dining room table off to the left. Along the right wall, a white low-back thick-cushioned sofa and chairs sat around another glass-and-marble coffee table. She loved the talks and parties she’d had in this room. It might be a formal living space, but she used it as much as her den in the back of the house. The tranquility of this room always calmed her after a hectic day.

“Where would you like to start?” she asked.

He hooked his sunglasses in his T-shirt collar and looked at her. Whoa, he had the sexiest eyes, so dark and intense. “Which way is the bedroom?”

She felt herself flush a million shades of red and swallowed hard. “Uh, down there.” She pointed down the long hallway.

Troy glanced in that direction and back at her. He gestured down the hall. “Lead the way.”

Julie nodded and started forward, her heart pounding frenetically. It was probably for the best that they start in her bedroom because ending in her bedroom might be a bad thing. Or a good thing.

She walked into her bedroom and stepped aside. Troy stopped at the door and took it in. She tried to see the room from his eyes. She had a California king-sized bed with a large cherry headboard. A brown-and-turquoise comforter decorated a bed loaded with lots of fluffy pillows. Thick beige carpeting cushioned their feet. A matching armoire and chest of drawers each took up space on their own walls, and a big overstuffed chair and ottoman filled the corner spot under the window.

Troy walked straight to the French doors that looked out to the narrow backyard. He checked the doorknob and the edges and grunted, then stalked to the other side of the room and turned the corner. The whole right end of the house compromised the master suite. Julie had taken the four-bedroom home and made it a three-bedroom when she’d knocked down a wall and made one large bedroom into a combination closet and bathroom. This was her favorite part of the whole place. Her heaven. After fourteen or sixteen hours on the set, she liked to come home and relax in her hot tub with dozens of candles throwing soft light around the tan walls, travertine tile and marble.

Seeing Troy in this space only made her jittery. He brought an element that had been missing for years. Lucas had spent a significant amount of time here, but he’d always kept his own place. He’d accused her house of being too girly, but had never suggested buying a place for them to share. That should’ve been a big clue.

Her gaze roamed to the tub and she had a vision of Troy surrounded by bubbles and waiting for her to join him. She’d get in the warm water and he’d pull her against him. He’d be hard, but he’d take his time with her. Tease her. He’d kiss her softly, whisper the things he’d want to do to her and she’d—

“Julie,” Troy said, waving a hand in front of her face. “You okay?”

Embarrassed, she snapped to attention. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry. Just thinking about... things. Did you say something?” Did it suddenly get hot in here?

“I asked where the alarm pad is,” he said.

“It’s in the hallway. We passed it on the way here.”

Troy nodded as he watched her. His eyebrows quirked before he left the room and strode down the hallway. Julie followed, mortified beyond belief that he’d caught her daydreaming about having sex with him.