Illusions of Love

chapter 5



Vince Maine missed his girls when he was in Vegas. He missed his gorgeous wife and his beautiful daughter – he missed the life he had outside of this vibrant city. But then, when he was away from Vegas he missed that too. He missed the noise and the people and the way life seemed to move so fast. But he was grateful he now had an escape, grateful he could just up and leave and head off to L.A., give himself time away from a place that could, if you let it, suck you in and wear you out without you even realising it.

Before Charley had come on the scene Vince had been the epitome of a workaholic, on the go twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, because that was all he’d known. Vince Maine was an extremely successful businessman with three Vegas Hotels, a Beverly Hills Restaurant, a Californian vineyard, and a movie production company he co-owned with his close friend, Michael Walsh, not to mention the salons and spas that he and Charley ran together, although she was very much in charge as far as those were concerned. But, being with Charley had made him realise that there was actually more to life than just work. And Vince was finally learning to kick back and relax. Sometimes.

He smiled at the thought of Charley, his northern English princess, the woman who’d given him a life he’d never thought he’d wanted but now couldn’t exist without. She’d been through so much in the past, and he knew she never liked to talk about it because it had been a past that had affected so many other people in incredibly painful ways, but she’d come through everything stronger and more determined to make something of herself. And she was doing just fine. Vince was nothing but proud of her.

He’d first met Charley very briefly when she’d visited L.A. for India’s debut movie premiere back in the summer of 1992. Back then she’d been an aspiring glamour model and the girlfriend of India’s late brother, professional soccer player Terry Steven. It wasn’t until nine years later that he saw her again, in Las Vegas, when he’d found her working as a showgirl at one of his hotels, The Maine Resort.

Getting together hadn’t been easy; there’d been many obstacles to overcome, many people’s feelings to think about due to the past that Charley was determined to put behind her. But she’d finally given in to his charm and good looks because, despite now approaching his mid-fifties, Vince Maine was still a very good looking man, tall and dark with the kindest green eyes and a natural warmth that made him so approachable. And the rest, as they say, was history.

He just wished she was here with him now, but he needed to be in Vegas to see this movie begin shooting. They were using his newest and most exclusive hotel – The Amber Palace – as one of its major locations and, as one of the movie’s executive producers as well as the hotel owner, he wanted to oversee everything. That was just the way he was. Some things he could delegate, but there were others he needed to be in charge of, because the last time one of his hotels had been used as a location shoot a whole lot of things had gone on that he was determined to avoid this time around.

Charley had to stay in L.A. – for the time being, anyway – to work on a movie premiere for one of her A-list celebrity clients, but once that was over he hoped she’d come and spend some time in her Vegas salon. He felt as though they hadn’t had any real quality time together for so long now, but that was just the nature of their work. He’d make sure he got that time with her and Lily soon. He’d make it a priority. But, right now, he had a movie to produce and shooting was imminent. Once more Vince Maine’s life was on a roll, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.



***



Michael had wanted to get to Vegas slightly ahead of everyone else, just to make sure everything was in order. The days leading up to the start of shooting were always the hardest in his eyes, because if something didn’t feel right he needed time to make sure he eventually felt comfortable with it. Whatever it was. And the one thing that was making Michael feel less than comfortable at the minute was the studio’s choice of male lead. Dominic MacDonald. A man with a big reputation for getting involved with his leading ladies, and somebody Michael had never worked with before. He was well aware of how talented an actor Dominic was, but this time his leading lady was India and that, as far as Michael was concerned, meant keeping a very close eye on him.

Walking into the casino of The Amber Palace he stood still for a few seconds, taking in everything that was going on around him – the noise, the people, the sheer air of excitement and anticipation that hung heavy in the air. It was an incredible place. Vince had a knack of creating the most amazing hotels and Michael was more than grateful that he’d handed this one over as a location shoot for the movie because it was brand new, his latest baby, only just opened. But, then again, what better publicity could there be than a Hollywood movie that would doubtless be seen by millions?

‘You came early too, then?’

Michael swung round at the sound of that familiar English accent, and his heart almost stopped dead when he saw her standing there in front of him because he just hadn’t expected to see her quite so soon. She looked stunning in a simple white strapless dress and heels, her long hair tousled and loose around her bare, tanned shoulders. So different to the jean-wearing tomboy who’d walked into his life almost two decades ago.

‘I… I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow,’ he said, pushing a hand through his hair, a sudden wave of nerves throwing him slightly off balance for a second.

‘Well, there wasn’t really anything keeping me in L.A. so, I thought I might as well head to Vegas a few hours ahead of schedule.’

‘Is… is Ethan with you?’

‘Reece is bringing him. They’re arriving tomorrow. I wanted a bit of time on my own, y’know, get settled in first before that hurricane of untidiness that is our son lands at the villa.’

Michael smiled, part of him upset because he hadn’t seen his son in weeks and the thought of having to wait another twenty-four hours felt like an eternity, but part of him was also relieved because it gave him some much needed time with his mom, alone. If she was alone, that is.

‘Are you… are you here on your own?’ Why was he so tongue-tied around her? All those years they’d spent together, all that time they’d shared, they weren’t strangers, for Christ’s sake. But, due to their history, maybe that meant that nothing was ever really going to be the same between them again.

‘If you mean is JJ with me, then no. He isn’t. He’s at home, with Ellie.’

‘Home?’

India looked at him, watched the way his eyes never left hers, the questions he so obviously wanted to ask her all too evident. ‘At his home. We don’t have a home anymore. And you know that, Michael.’

He broke the stare and looked down at the ground, running a hand nervously along the back of his neck as he looked back up at her. She seemed to grow more beautiful the older she got, yet it also seemed as though, every time he saw her, she was becoming more and more untouchable. More distant. But maybe that was just him. Maybe that was just how she wanted to be around him.

‘I could do with a drink,’ she said, breaking the sudden silence. ‘Are you coming with me or are you just going to stand there?’

He followed her to the bar situated in the centre of the busy casino, standing beside her as she slid up onto a stool, tossing her blond hair back over her shoulder and he couldn’t help but remember her as that somewhat naive young woman he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. She was so much more self-assured now, so much stronger, but then, she’d had to be, because of what he’d done to her. A sudden sharp pain hit him right across the chest as he remembered those things he’d tried to put behind him – things which would really never go away. Because he didn’t deserve to forget.

‘Are you okay?’ India asked, noticing him clutch his chest and breathe in deep.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, closing his eyes for a second as the pain subsided. ‘So…’ He opened his eyes and looked at her. She seemed concerned, and the hope that gave him was ridiculous because it probably meant nothing. ‘Is it still a beer?’

She couldn’t help but smile, and he smiled too, the whole atmosphere changing in an instant. ‘A beer’ll be great, thank you. You still on the bourbon?’

‘Oh, you know me, honey. A creature of habit.’

She turned slightly on her stool and looked at him, resting her chin in her hand as she watched him order the drinks, watched the way he smiled at the female bartender, instantly putting her at ease. It was what he was good at, putting people at ease with that movie star smile and those amazing blue eyes. But they were also eyes that had terrified her at one point, and no matter how hard she tried to forget what had happened, it would never really go away. It was always going to be there between them, like some insurmountable barrier that neither would ever really be able to get over.

‘Layla tells me it’s all but finished between you two. Is that right?’

He looked at her, his face suddenly serious, that movie star smile fading. ‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘Why? I thought you two were making a go of things?’

He continued to look at her, trying to find something in her expression that gave him even the tiniest bit of hope, but there was nothing there. She was almost impassive, expressionless even, as she watched him.

‘We tried, India…’

‘Her rather more than you, I gather.’

‘What else has Layla said to you?’

India shrugged, taking a swig of beer straight from the bottle and Michael couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy as tomboy once more collided with Hollywood beauty. ‘We haven’t had some long, girly heart-to-heart, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

He leant back against the bar, looking out over the casino. ‘We’ve just grown apart, that’s all. Nothing more to it than that. Layla she… she’s so much younger… We just want different things.’

‘She still loves you, Michael.’

He took a long sip of bourbon but said nothing, still staring straight ahead of him.

‘So, I see we’ve got the reappearance of the beard,’ India said, changing the subject, her voice shaking Michael back to reality and he turned to look at her again, her eyes fixed firmly on his.

‘Don’t you like it?’ he asked, rubbing his fingers over his rough chin. It was only a small goatee beard but it actually knocked years off him rather than the other way around.

India shrugged again. ‘Doesn’t really matter whether I like it or not, does it? I’m just pointing it out because you always seem to have one when you’re directing a movie.’

‘You noticed that, huh?’

She was still looking at him. ‘I notice a lot of things, Michael.’

For a few seconds nobody said anything as they just stared at each other, the air heavy with something neither of them could describe, but it was India who broke the silence again, taking one last swig of beer as she stood up.

‘Come on. You’re taking me to dinner.’

‘I am?’

He hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud but she’d caught him by surprise. Again.

She turned around and looked at him, smiling that smile that he loved beyond anything else. Because he loved her beyond anything else. Always had, always would.

‘Yeah. You are. Unless you’ve got something else you’d rather be doing.’

He smiled too, quickly finishing his drink, slamming the empty glass back down on the bar. ‘No. Absolutely not.’

‘Come on then, Walsh. And you’re buying.’



***



Dominic settled down on the huge white sofa in his penthouse apartment at The Amber Palace – his new home for the duration of his time filming here in Las Vegas – and began flicking through the magazine he’d picked up at the news stand in the lobby.

He didn’t really need to do any more research on Michael and India Walsh but this magazine had caught his eye because the cover carried a picture of them when they’d been together. Married. One of Hollywood’s hot-shot couples.

There was still this air of mystery shrouding their high-profile divorce seven years ago that meant neither of them were ever far from the headlines, especially now as they prepared to make this movie together when both Michael’s relationship with Layla Boyd and India’s marriage to JJ Foster seemed to be coming to almost simultaneous ends. Coincidence? Who knew? They had a kid together; maybe they just wanted to work alongside each other to give him some time with mom and dad.

Dominic turned to the page that carried the article on India and her decision to return to Vegas to make this movie after her last successful Nevada-set nineties comedy, The Wedding Convention, in which she’d starred alongside Kenny Ross. There were more recent pictures of her inside the magazine, but in all of them she was alone. No sign of her now estranged husband, JJ Foster.

‘You are one hot lady,’ Dominic whistled, his eyes going straight to a black and white photograph of India leaning back against a palm tree in an almost transparent white floaty dress that the photographer’s wind machine had obviously deliberately whipped up around her toned thighs, her perfect breasts visible through the paper-thin material as she stared into the camera through sexy, smoky eyes. It was hard to believe she was forty-two-years-old and the mother of two kids. JJ Foster must be sick at the thought of losing her. A feeling the world knew Michael Walsh was more than familiar with. So, was directing her in this movie Michael’s way of winning her back? It certainly seemed as though India had left that part of her life well and truly behind her, but whether Michael had done the same was another matter.

But, for the next few months at least, Dominic was going to be in close enough proximity to keep an eye on things because, as far as he was concerned, Michael Walsh had already had his go. Now it was time to give somebody else a chance. And it would be no more than Michael deserved.



***



‘You and JJ couldn’t work things out then?’ Michael asked as he and India walked along the palm-tree-lined path that led through the gardens of The Amber Palace, back towards the separate but neighbouring private villas they were staying in for the duration of filming.

She looked down at the ground as she walked. The few glasses of wine she’d had over dinner had gone to her head a bit and she felt a little unsteady on her feet. ‘Don’t ask obvious questions, Michael.’

‘I’m sorry… I know it can’t be easy, going through this divorce…’

‘It’s a hell of a lot easier than the last one.’

He’d almost asked for that and he shut up, realising that to push anything would only go against him. Even though he really had no idea what he was heading towards, exactly.

She stopped walking and sighed heavily, pushing a hand though her hair. ‘Look, I’m sorry too, okay? I didn’t mean to bring all of that crap up again, it’s just that…’

‘Just, what?’ Michael asked, noticing the way her eyes couldn’t seem to meet his anymore.

She shook her head, almost as if she was getting rid of any ideas she had about doing something she might regret. ‘Nothing. Come on, we’re almost at my villa now.’

They walked in relative silence until they reached the door of India’s four-bedroomed private villa.

‘Thank you,’ Michael said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he willed her to look up at him, willed those incredible eyes of hers to meet his one more time.

‘For what?’ she asked, rummaging round in her bag for her key. ‘Jesus, I swear I’m getting worse for forgetting where I’ve put things.’

‘For tonight. It was… it was nice. Being able to talk to you, alone.’

She looked up at him sharply, dropping her keys as she did so. She crouched down to retrieve them, losing her balance as she stood back up and he reached out to grab her as she fell against him.

‘You okay?’ he asked, still holding onto her arms.

She nodded, pushing her hair back off her face, her eyes slowly meeting his again. He loosened his grip on her, trying to read a situation he couldn’t quite get a handle on. ‘Too much to drink, that’s all. I haven’t been out in a while and… I guess I’m just not used to it.’

She turned away and he felt an almost crushing disappointment rush over him, like someone had kicked him hard in the stomach.

‘India…’

She turned around, and this time when she looked at him he was almost certain he could see it – that spark, that look. Maybe he was imagining it because it was something he so badly needed to see but, no. He was sure. Or as sure as he could be.

‘Goodnight, Michael.’

He shook his head, determined not to lose this moment because he wasn’t sure they’d ever get another chance to be alone like this after tonight, not once Reece and Ethan and God knows who else arrived tomorrow. What did he have to lose? She could only push him away and he was used to that. It wouldn’t kill him if that was her reaction. He’d survive. It wasn’t like it was something he wasn’t used to.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked.

She looked at him through narrowed eyes, her surprised look replaced now with one of suspicion. ‘Why? It’s late, Michael. Ethan’s arriving early tomorrow…’

He made his move, sick of skirting the issue, sick of pretending it wasn’t happening because it was, and he was going to face it head on. Whatever the consequences.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ she asked, taking a step back as he walked straight past her into the villa, closing the door behind them.

‘I love you, India.’

She ignored the comment, keeping her eyes on him as she spoke. ‘I’ll ask you again, Michael. What the hell are you doing?’

‘You know what I’m doing, honey. You know.’

‘Do I?’ She was slightly angry now. How dare he assume anything anymore. She was over this. She was over it. She was over him.

‘You know, baby.’

She turned and walked away from him, into the kitchen, but he followed her, and she’d known he would because she hadn’t thrown him out. If she really hadn’t wanted him there she would have thrown him out, wouldn’t she?

‘We’re getting on okay now, aren’t we?’ Michael asked, watching as she leant back against the breakfast bar, her eyes on his all the time even though her arms were folded against her in that almost defensive manner.

‘That doesn’t mean anything, Michael. We learnt to become friends, that’s all. We learnt to be grown up about the situation.’

He moved closer, praying she wouldn’t turn away from him again and she didn’t. She kept her eyes on his as he walked towards her, unfolding her arms, and he was almost certain now. Certain that he could do this. Certain that she would be okay about it. ‘I’m really looking forward to working with you again, India; you know that, don’t you?’

She nodded, the intensity in his eyes boring right into her very soul. He was doing it again – wearing her down, draining her energy, pulling her in, and it wasn’t going to happen again. She hadn’t come this far only to take a hundred steps back.

‘You sap every ounce of strength out of me, Michael, and I hate you for it.’

He smiled, reaching out to touch her cheek with the palm of his hand, her skin so soft as he stroked it gently. ‘Do you want me to go?’

‘I want you to go,’ she repeated. ‘Now.’ But, did she? Did she really?

Sliding a hand into the small of her back he pulled her against him, ignoring her request, lowering his mouth down onto hers in a kiss that lasted just seconds but it was enough, because too much time away from her, too long without her had meant he needed her like a drug he couldn’t do without and just the tiniest of touches could satisfy him. He was addicted, and he needed that fix, no matter how brief.

‘That is never going to happen again,’ India whispered, angry at herself for letting it happen in the first place. It was a sign of the old weakness returning and she’d promised herself that would never happen. Not again. Not after everything she’d been through. ‘So, like I said before, I’d like you to go. Now.’

‘India…’

She walked away from him, pushing a hand through her hair, refusing to look at him. This conversation was over. The situation was done. Finished. ‘Now, Michael. I’d like you to go now.’

What else was he supposed to do? Stand there and force her to be with him? Considering their history that would be the worst thing he could ever do, but knowing that she didn’t feel the same way that he did, it hurt like hell. Coming here, knowing he was going to be working with her, so close, every day, he’d thought – he’d stupidly assumed – that she’d see things his way. Assumed she’d see that what they’d had was worth fighting for, when she so obviously didn’t.

‘I’m sorry, India…’

She swung round to look at him, folding her arms again, the look in her eyes one of determination. Michael Walsh would not take her down, not again, not this time. She could do this, she could fight this. She could live her life without hoping he might one day come back into it, because she needed to feel that to give her any chance of really moving forward.

‘We stay purely professional, Michael. We’re here to work together, that’s all. You got that?’

He got it. Loud and clear. But it still didn’t stop him from hoping that, one day, things might change. Because Michael Walsh never gave up on anything without one hell of a fight.