Beauty and The Best (Once-Upon-A-Time Romance) (3 page)

And, now, she figured that if she could fashion a
fictional
happy ending in a book, she could fashion one in reality as well. And if she earned some extra money doing so, all the better.

At least, that was the thought. And Todd here was her ticket to both ends. Her employer to handle the cooking-money end of things and the inspiration for her romance hero for the literary-money. She could learn what made him tick, what had made his relationship work, his emotions for his wife, see what it was about him that made him worthy of being loved and,
voila
! instant romance hero.

Not that she’d tell him. There were limits to what people would put up with and, because of his reticence with publicity since his wife died, she was putting hero-inspiration into that category. If he didn’t go for PR to talk about
his
career, he certainly wouldn’t want to go for it for hers.

“
Hello in there?” Todd tapped the table.

Oops
. “Sorry.” A blush blazed its way upward, warming her skin. “Um, well, I can whip up pretty much anything you want. What do you have in mind?”

The phone trilled yet again, but Todd ignored it and shrugged. “I’m not really much of a big eater these days. Feel free to try out whatever you want to keep yourself entertained. I usually give most of it to the Grays anyway.”

“
Grays?”

“
Jasmine and Earl. An older couple who’ve been with us—me—for years. Earl takes care of the outside of the house and Jasmine the inside.”

So why exactly was Jolie here collecting an exorbitant salary? He had a housekeeper, a gardener, and an answering machine, all with only one person living in the house.

She didn’t mind earning an honest living, but this was starting to feel like a handout. To her. And she didn’t do charity.

Unless… it was the company he was paying for? Someone to be here all day?

Hmm. That was understandable, given the circumstances, but still… Didn’t he have family? Friends?

“
Not very talkative are you?”

Her
? “Oh. Sorry. Just thinking what’s for dinner.” She was not about to call his bluff. She knew
all
about keeping up appearances that everything was going along swimmingly in one’s life. If he wanted to pretend, far be it from her to call him on it.

“
Come up with anything?”

“
I haven’t made up my mind yet. I’ll have to go food shopping and see what strikes my fancy.”

The phone rang again. What was with these people?

Todd glanced toward the den, home of the (obviously) super-large-capacity answering machine. He set his fork down, then wiped his mouth with the cotton napkin.

Nice manners. Nice mouth, too.

She shouldn’t be noticing things like that.

“
I’ll drive you in. I’ve got to stop by my offi—my brother’s office and take care of a few things.”

Nice recovery, but she saw that grimace. Self-deception must be the order of the day.

“
That’s okay. I’ve got my car.”

“
No sense wasting gas. I’ll take you.” He leaned his forearms on the edge of the table and turned those emerald eyes on her. “So, Jolie Gardener, how’d you end up in my kitchen?”

She shrugged, going for nonchalant. “Same way everyone else did. I applied at the agency, put the car in gear, and here I am.”

“
No. What I meant was, how did you end up in cooking? And are you always this literal?”

She laughed. He
got
her. “Hey, that didn’t take you long. Good job.”

“
What are you talking about?”

She scooched closer to the table and plopped her chin in her hand. “Well, it’s this test I do. To see how we’ll get along. If it takes someone too long to get me, it’s going to be a long assignment. And I don’t mean in terms of time. But if people, you for instance, get me—my humor—I can tell we’re going to work well together.”

“
Ah,” he nodded, “getting it” all the more. “The litmus test of contractee and contractor. I like it.” He pushed his plate aside. “So, what happens if your client doesn’t ‘get’ you? Do you ask to be reassigned or do you just stick it out?”

“
I never quit.”

“
Never?”

“
Never.” If she’d ever let quitting worm its way into her vocabulary she would’ve been one of those statistics on the news every night.

“
Sometimes quitting is a good thing.”

His voice was barely out of whisper range, but she heard it. Heard the words and beneath them too.

But at least he’d said them.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he’d stopped painting, but maybe those words were a sign he was on the road to recovery. Perhaps that’s what her exorbitant salary was all about: having someone with him all day and so he could find some way to open up. Come back to the world of the living.

Paint again.

Oh, if she could somehow help him regain the will to pick up a paintbrush, it’d be worth a shot, because for Todd Best to give up painting was like Michelangelo putting clothes on the statue of David.

Yep, she was back to nudity again.

“
Um, well, okay, I’ll definitely take that ride, if you’re still offering.” Inane chatter (or graciously accepting an offer) was a good way to get her mind off nudity—his, David’s, or otherwise. “But it’s not going to be a quick run. I’ll need to meander around the store. An hour at least, maybe more. Or I could just have the stuff delivered and grab a cab if you want to leave before me. If not, I hope your car has a good trunk ’cause I tend to splurge the first time in a new kitchen. To make sure I’ve got all the necessities. Okay with you?”

He had a really cute, little quirky look going. Like she was speaking some foreign language he knew a little of and he was trying to conjugate the verbs.

“
Aren’t you exhausted yet?” he asked.

“
Huh?”

“
Well, if your mouth is moving that fast, I can only imagine your brain has to work twice as hard to coordinate all those thoughts.”

His smile had taken the sting from his words, but still, they rankled. Yes, she was a talker. Sometimes it was scads better than silence. Or her thoughts.

“
You’d be amazed.” She stood to clear the table but Todd beat her to it, picking up his plate and heading to the sink.

Boy, was he tall. She wasn’t used to feeling dwarfed around guys, since five-ten was no slouch in the height department, but with him…

It was such a screaming shame that the guy had pretty much every attribute in tall, dark, and gorgeous one could want. Except the dark part was dark blond. But it’d do. If she were wanting.

Which she most definitely was not. She’d learned her lesson. Falling for the guy who paid her salary—and greeted her naked—was not a good idea. Not to mention, a sure-fire way to disrupt the fictional exposé of his life she was working on, thereby derailing the perfectly planned path her life was about to take.

The phone rang again. Jolie glanced at it with raised eyebrows. “Are you sure you don’t want me to answer that?”

Todd’s steps faltered.
Not again
. He ran a hand through his hair again. He wasn’t ready to deal with this. Not yet.

Not today.

Fuck it. He tossed his plate into the sink, half-hoping to hear it shatter. At least it’d give him something to focus on instead of the goddamned phone.

“
I’m sure. Let’s go, Jolie. I’ll take care of the dishes when we get back.”

“
Um, well, okay. If you’re sure. I mean, it is my job—”

“
And it’s my house. Dishes can sit.”

He held out a hand to her. The faster they got out of here, the faster he didn’t have to deal.

Then the doorbell chimed. Now what? He dropped his hand and spun on his heel toward the foyer. “I’ll get this while you hang up your apron and get your purse.”

He yanked on the brass handle, then immediately tried to shut the door when he saw who was on the other side, but Lizette was quick.

Too quick, dammit.

The news anchorwoman shoved a microphone in his face and her foot in the door, the cameraman’s red light blinking like a distress signal behind her.

“
Mr. Best, if you could give our viewers an idea of what today means—”

“
No comment. All publicity is to go through the office.” He stepped out of the line of filming and tried to maneuver her foot back through the door. He didn’t want to do bodily harm, but he could be persuaded to change his mind.

“
They gave me the same response.”

“
Then that’s your answer. No comment.” He closed the door enough to trap her foot and let her know he meant business. Luckily, she knew when enough was enough and retreated.

He shut the door, sliding the deadbolt home, then rested his head against the doorframe.

The phone rang again.

He was going to lose it. His stomach was churning, acid backing up into his throat. He wanted to scream, beat his head against the mahogany door, rip down walls…something. Anything to end this charade of normalcy that he was barely hanging on to.

He should have bought a new bottle of Beam last night, not just pulled out the remnants of another night’s misery. He could’ve spent the day in a stupor, fading in and out on his sofa, and letting this whole fucking day just pass him by.

“
Are you okay?”

Jolie.

He sighed. He’d forgotten she was here.

He cleared his throat and pushed off the door, turning to face her. The phone rang again.

He had to get out of the house. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He took another breath. He would be all right; that was the sad irony of it. “How do you feel about a duck and run?”

“
Duck and run?”

“
My car’s inside the garage. You’re going to want to duck your head to avoid making tonight’s news.”

“
I am?”

Poor thing was looking at him like a deer in the headlights. Or maybe like a sane person staring at a crazy one. He grabbed her hand and headed toward the garage door. “You are. Or you’ll find yourself the object of intense media scrutiny. That reporter, and others like her, will hound you for information about me.”

“
What could I possibly tell them?”

Exactly
.

He stopped, his grip tightening as she swung around to face him. His fingers clenched around hers. “Nothing, Jolie. You’re to tell them absolutely nothing. No matter how much anyone offers you for my life story these days, or any snippets about how I live, don’t tell them a damn thing.” He opened the garage door.

“
The last thing I need or want is for my life to be an open book.”

Chapter Three

“
Ready?” Todd secured his seatbelt in the 560 SL and turned on the ignition.

Sunlight streamed in the beveled windows at the top of the garage door as Jolie bent forward, her mink hair spread over a gauzy top so splashed with color it reminded him of his drop cloths.

Not that he’d seen one of those in two years. Nor would he ever again.

“
As I’ll ever be.” She wrapped her arms around her legs, tucking her purse beneath the seat and her head between her Indian Yellow capris. Todd punched the garage door button, feeling like a racecar driver in the starting gate—only he had more to lose than a driving trophy.

Gunning it, they bounced over the end of the driveway as the newswoman and her cameraman clunked down the walkway. He knew Lizette; he’d been counting on her heels to slow her up.

In the street, he slammed on the brakes, silently apologizing to the Mercedes and Jolie, then shoved the car into drive, and tore off down the street just as Lizette reached the end of his driveway and flung her arms to her sides.

“
Can I peek now?” Jolie spit some hair from her mouth as she turned his way from her doubled-over position.

“
Sure.” He tapped the brakes once the video threat was gone. “Sorry about that.”

“
What exactly was that?”

“
A pain in my a—an invasion of privacy.” He glanced over. “I’m sorry about all the phone calls, the doorbell, the high-speed chase. I guess the job description didn’t say anything about a media circus.”

Jolie sat back and set the torso portion of her seatbelt in place, brushing long hair off her face. “You guess right.”

He turned back to the road, slowing his speed to a non-ticketable offense. “I always appreciated the press coverage back, well, before, but now—” He shook his head and stopped at the stop sign. “It’s gotten worse as today approached.”

“
Today?”

“
Nothing. Never mind.” Not what he wanted to talk about. He leaned an arm on the steering wheel and checked the oncoming traffic.

“
Oh, well, um… not a problem,” Jolie said with a happy-go-lucky tone he’d give anything to have back in his life. “Kind of exciting, I guess. And you know, the job description didn’t mention nudity either, but I seem to have overcome that.”

He glanced right and her face filled his line of vision. She had grayish eyes. No, not gray. Something beyond gray. Not blue, not hazel…