If I Loved You (Hollywood Hearts 1) (5 page)

“That’s absolutely everything.”

Megan couldn’t keep a giggle from her throat.

“Have fun tomorrow and…live it up a little, Meg.”

“Goodnight, Penny.” Meg sat up.

Conversation with Penny revived Megan. No longer sleepy, she brought her wine glass to the piano and pulled out the
Carousel
music book. Perching the glass in a safe place, she sat down to play. Her fingers kept coming back to the song “If I Loved You.” Since the apartment was empty, Megan stuffed away her shyness to raise her voice in song.

As she paused to change music, the faint chiming of the small antique clock in the den drifted into the living room, telling her it was eleven o’clock. Megan yawned. Within half an hour, she was in bed, sleeping peacefully.

*
* * *

Wednesday morning, Megan was tired but the excitement of the day pumped adrenaline through her body. She awoke with a song in her heart and couldn’t stop singing “If I Loved You”—even in the shower.

She walked to work, bouncing with enthusiasm. Researching potential new clients and meeting with the bosses to create a strategy to hook more celebrities made the day pass quickly. Meg found it hard to focus, words on the page blended together to form Chaz Duncan’s profile. Around noon, she got a text.

Brazilian food okay? See you at five. Chaz.

Brazilian food was hearty but romantic.
Yum, a Caipirinha
. She texted back—

Great! We can toast with Caipirinhas. See you then.

Megan had chosen the emerald green suit because it would bring out the green in her eyes. Underneath her jacket, she wore a white piqué vest dipping to a V, no blouse. A chunky gold necklace, plus matching earrings, finished the look.

“Wow!” Andy’s eyebrows rose when he spied her coming down the hall.

She grinned at him.

“You look…incredible.”

“Thank you, Andy. Is the plan printed out yet? I want to look it over one more time.”

“I’ll have it on your desk in five.” He returned to his computer.

Megan popped the top off her
Starbucks
coffee and turned on her computer. As soon as Andy dropped the plan on her desk, she reviewed every recommendation once more, checking the new bid prices and double-checking for typos and arithmetic errors.

Finally satisfied it was perfect, she tilted back in her chair and a little thrill of accomplishment shot up her spine.

Wait till Chaz sees this! Loving this job.

Harvey poked his head into Megan’s office. “Would it be okay if Chaz signed a few autographs for the staff? We have several staff members palpitating to meet him.”

“I doubt he’d mind. He’s coming today at five.”

“Fine. We’ll sign the papers first, then the meet and greet. Okay with you?”

       “Of course,” she replied.

Chapter Three

At five after five, Chaz strolled down the hall and stood in the doorway of Megan’s office. He cleared his throat and flashed his thousand-watt smile. “Sorry I’m late.” He stepped inside.

“Are you?” Megan gulped. He looked more handsome than ever in a short, dark gray leather zip-up jacket and tight jeans. He removed his sunglasses then his jacket.

Her lips curved into a smile as he sank into the chair across from her desk.

“You are looking…amazing today.” His gaze raked her body.

So do you. Business, Meg, business!

Chaz wore a white linen shirt with a round collar. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal strong forearms sporting a smattering of dark hair.
Damn, this guy knows how to dress.
His hair was slightly mussed instead of perfect. He placed his jacket over the back of the chair.

“Where are the papers?”

“One question first. Would you mind signing autographs for a few staff members right after?”

“Fans? Of course.”

“Come with me.” Megan stood up and led him down the hall to Harvey Dillon’s office. Secretaries and assistants along the way gasped and stared. Chaz turned, smiling graciously at everyone.

Harvey explained all the paperwork. Chaz signed everything within twenty minutes and the two men shook hands.

“Welcome to Dillon and Weed, Mr. Duncan.”

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to working with Ms. Davis.”

“She’s one of our newest and brightest stars…oops. Guess that means something different to you, doesn’t it?”

The men chuckled. Megan stood behind Chaz waiting for the right moment. She cleared her throat. “I have an action plan I’d like to go over with you, Chaz.” Megan reached for his hand but caught herself before making contact. The smirk on his face told her he noticed. His eyes danced.

“Well, I won’t keep you. I see Megan has you well in hand. Nice to meet you and we thank you for your business.” Harvey shook Chaz’s hand one more time before he left with Megan.

Back in her office, she closed the door.

“Bring it along. We’ll go over it at dinner. Let’s do the autographs and get out of here. I’m starved.”

“Don’t they feed you on the set?”

“I’ve been thinking about Brazilian food all day…and being alone with you.”

And I’ve been thinking about you all day long.

*
* * *

Megan buzzed Harvey before packing up her briefcase and showing Chaz to a desk in the conference room where more than half the staff lined up. He sat down, signed autographs, and kissed older women on the cheek. A sexy blonde, wearing a low-cut top, bent over right in front of him on purpose. He couldn’t help taking in the view.

Nice rack but no class. Trying too hard.

She smiled seductively at him as she stood up.

“You’re in good hands with Megan, but if you’re ever looking for more…uh…experienced hands, I’ve been in the business longer.” She peered out from under her lashes at him as she penned her number on the back of her business card before she slipped it into his hand. He palmed the card, put it in his pocket, and returned her saucy grin with one of his own.

“Brielle,” she said as she handed him a small notebook to sign.

“That’s an unusual name.”

“It is. Combination of Brinda and Ellen. Family names.”

“One that’ll be hard to forget.” He handed her the signed notebook before turning to the next person in line.

When he finished, he noticed Megan frowning. Harvey Dillon shook Chaz’s hand a third time.

Chaz flipped his wrist and peeked at his Rolex. Leaning over to Megan he whispered, “Let’s go.”

She nodded, picking up her purse and jacket before leading the way to the elevator. Chaz spoke a few words into his cell phone, then turned to Megan. “Bobby is outside.”

At Megan’s quizzical look he explained, “Bobby’s an old friend. He’s my chauffeur when I’m in town.” Chaz donned his sunglasses.

The elevator was almost full, but they managed to squeeze in.

“Chaz Duncan!” Someone in the back called out, not fooled by the dark glasses.

Murmured greetings, gasps, and pats on the back greeted Chaz. He pasted a plastic smile on his face, nodding to everyone. Megan and Chaz were the first out of the elevator, almost running to the curb where the limousine was waiting. When the door closed, Chaz sat back against the seat of the town car. He blew out a breath.

“I hate being trapped in an elevator full of fans. I get claustrophobic. It makes me nervous as hell.” He whipped out a handkerchief to mop the sweat off his forehead.

“Where to, Chaz?” Bobby threw the car in drive.

“Rio de Janeiro.”

“Rio? We’re driving to Rio?” Megan stared at him.

“It’s a restaurant on Forty-Sixth Street. You thought…” Chaz and Bobby guffawed.

“Okay, okay. What was that stuff with Brielle?” Megan put her hand on his arm.

“What stuff? She was flirting with me, so I flirted back. Fans love that.”

“You didn’t have to be so convincing.”

“Jealous?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Not at all.” She sat up straighter on the seat.

She’s jealous.
“You were…gotta love that.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, she’s not my type.” He grinned at her.

“And what type is she?” Meg huffed.

“The flashy and obvious type. You’re much more my style.” He ran a finger down her cheek.

“Oh?” She blushed slightly at his touch.

“The demure, smart…sexy type.” He kissed the back of her hand and watched her cheeks turn a becoming rosy shade.

The car crawled down Seventh Avenue, which was choked with rush hour traffic. Meg looked out the window. With her attention drawn away from him, Chaz seized the moment to study her unobserved.

She looked so lovely with her bangs a bit askew, her dark brown hair in loose curls resting on her shoulders. The brilliant green of the business suit made the green of her eyes glow. His gaze slid down to the V of her white vest and the swelling of cleavage there. His hand grew restless, the desire to touch her getting dangerously close to rocketing out of control.

Her hands were small with well-manicured nails. The polish was a shiny but subtle, translucent, creamy white. Her slim legs were crossed. He spied a bit of thigh where her skirt rode up, making him wonder what color her panties were. He glanced at the white vest and figured she had to be wearing a white or beige bra or it would show through the light-colored fabric. That meant panties to match. Maybe white with lace…lots of lace.
Stop! She’s a business associate.

He gave his head an almost imperceptible shake right before the car stopped. Bobby hopped out to open the door. Chaz got out first, offering his hand to Megan. Her skirt slid further up her thigh for a few seconds as she got out of the car. Chaz didn’t miss a delectable inch.
Three more inches and I’d know if they were white and lacy. Damn.

* * * *

The Maitre D’ greeted Chaz warmly. He showed them to a quiet table in a small room with only two other tables, both empty. The walls were painted a burnt orange. The tablecloths were white. A rainforest patterned fabric in orange, white, and green covered the chairs and booths. Small candles added a romantic glow to each table. Chaz sat next to Megan in the booth.

“I don’t know how we can go over this…the lighting is terrible.”
But it’s romantic as hell. Resist. Be strong.

“Why don’t you tell me about it? I can take the papers home.”

While Megan pulled out two sets of documents from her briefcase, Chaz ordered two Caipirinhas.

“Do you know what P/E means?” She asked, taking a sip of her drink.

He shook his head and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

“Guess we’re starting from square one. P/E is price earnings ratio, which means the price of the stock in relation to the earnings of the company. What you need to know is the lower the ratio, the better the company.” Megan circled the P/E numbers in the document.

“Why is that?” Chaz raised his glass to drink.

“If the selling price of the stock is, say, maybe fifteen to twenty times earnings, then the company is well run, doing well, a better risk. But if the price of the stock is, say, fifty times earnings, then the company is riskier, maybe not doing as well, not making as much money as it can or should.”

“I see. You use this number to pick stocks?”

“It’s one reference tool I use.” She sipped her drink.

“Good to know.” He nodded.

“I want you to know all you can about investing. I can teach you.”

“I’m going on location to shoot the next
West of the Sun
movie in a couple of weeks.”

“You are?” She put down her pen.

“But you can teach me by
Skype
.”  Chaz swallowed a healthy swig of the cool, potent liquid.

“
Skype
?”

“Through the computer. I can see you while you’re teaching me. I’m a very visual guy.” His gaze slid over her form.

“I can tell,” she chuckled.

“I’ll need something to keep my nights occupied.”

“Oh? No cast members to keep you…uh…busy?” She raised an eyebrow.

“There might be. Maybe I’d rather look at you while I learn something about managing money.” He took her hand.

Megan burst out laughing, almost knocking over her drink.

“Right. Sure. Yeah. Me over some gorgeous actress.” She eased her hand away from his.
No hand holding, no PDA…keep your distance.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Meg.”

The waiter returned, interrupting further conversation. “Let me order for you. Do you eat beef?”