Danny (Models On Top #1) (36 page)

He tucks some hair behind my ear and kisses my cheek. Then he whispers, “Wait until you find out what I have in store for you tonight.”

I lick my lips and gulp hard.

A knock at the door draws the crew’s attention. “Hold that thought.” I scurry away, even though I was enjoying that spot against him in the corner. Wondering what’s on the other side of this door, I pray it’s not a spy Keaton sent. When I open the door, a Frenchman—tall and dark hair, with thin lips so tight one would think he was sucking on a lemon—asks in a thick accent, “Daniel Weston?”

Danny comes to the door and the man hands him an envelope. “I’ve been asked to hand deliver this letter to you and to tell you on behalf of the sender that you have been served.”

“What?” Danny asks, looking as confused as I feel.

“My apologies, sir. I am merely repeating what I was told to say. Have a good day.”

“Fuck.” Danny’s eyes land on mine before he turns back and opens the letter.

My heart stops in my chest. My breath comes up short, trapped in my throat while he silently reads.

His head lowers, his eyes close, and he sighs. When I reach over to touch his wrist, he looks up, and says, “It will be all right. Don’t worry.”

Nodding seems to be the only thing I can do, my breath still caught in a lump, but I can hear the lie underneath his steady tone, I can see it written on his face. He’s upset and all he can think about is making sure I don’t worry. He walks away and all the air escapes before I take a deep inhale. I give him a minute although that’s the last thing I want to do.

The windows are the only space that seems to give any privacy though all of Paris is just beyond the glass. As he stares out the window, I stand there dumbfounded watching him while he pulls out his phone and makes a call.

Keaton promised revenge and he delivered, twelve fold. If he can’t hurt me, he’ll hurt Danny, the only man I’ve ever truly loved and now I’ve caused him heartache and probably more.

I start walking, stepping over extension cords, and around a director’s chair. I go to Danny as quietly as I can, needing to be there for him, for us. For me. Out of the corner of Danny’s eyes, he sees me but turns to face back to the windows. “It’s me,” he whispers into the receiver. “Call me as soon as you get this message.” When he hangs up, he turns around. “I need to call my lawyer.”

One more tentative step forward and I say, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“He said we were in breach of contract. He more than hinted that he would do this, but I didn’t take him seriously. I disregarded the threat.” I step forward, pleading with my hands on his chest. “I’m sorry, Danny. I didn’t believe him, but I should have.”

His hands cover mine, and the tension in his jaw releases. “It’s not your fault.” He sighs. “We can deny it, but I don’t I want to. It would be like denying a piece of my soul. I’ve done that for too long. I’ll fight him.”

“I don’t want to cause you any pain. I’m so sorry. I can fix this. I can.”

He stares into my eyes, disbelief turning to anger. “You’re not going back to him if that’s what you’re thinking. I said I can fight this and I will. I have a good lawyer and a pit bull of an agent.” Referring to the few people on the set, he says, “And they won’t give us up.”

“I can handle this quietly. Just give me a chance.”

“You may have quit a job, but this could cost you your career.”

“I don’t think he really wants to hurt me—professionally or personally.”

“He’s hurting you by going after me. Nothing is beneath him to try to get you back. It’s a ploy. Don’t play into it.”

“I’d rather it cost me my career than lose you… again.”

He hugs me, his hands around my head, holding me to his chest. “You may cost me a pretty penny, but you’re not going to lose me.”

We found out how much this lawsuit was going to cost later that night—fifteen million dollars if we fight it. Either way, we walk away the losers.

Danny hangs up the call with his lawyer and says, “Whoever said love doesn’t cost a thing lied.”

“I want to laugh, but I can’t.” I lie on the bed while he stands at the balcony with the doors wide open. I don’t think he hears me, so I call to him, “Danny?” When he doesn’t respond again, I go to him. Touching his shoulders, I can feel how tense they are.

He turns just enough to see me behind him. “I’m fucked, Reese.”

That’s not the Danny I know. His tone is all wrong, not fitting the man who seems to always look on the sunny side. His resignation hurts my heart. Leaning my forehead against his back, I close my eyes. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“My lawyer said we have two options.”

I move onto the balcony next to him. His hands grip the railing so tight his knuckles are whitening. “What are they?”

“I can fight it but most likely I’ll lose since, well, we’ve breached the contract. Fighting it in court means we try to find a sympathetic jury who believes love is stronger than a contract. But legally, the contract is the final word with the judge.”

Not good. “And the other option?”

He won’t look at me. My stomach rolls when he turns away and lowers his voice. “We walk away until the term of the contract expires.”

No.
“That’s six months to a year. Maybe longer.”
I won’t do it for even a day.
“The expiration of those clauses were based on us working together—”

“And the ads being public, apparently, not just shooting the ads.”

“No.”

“Yes, Reese.” When his gaze hits me it’s harsher, more troubled than I’ve ever seen. “My lawyer has gone over the contracts twice looking for a loophole. Klein isn’t new to this. They know how to word these things. I signed it. Hell, you fucking signed it.”

The clause flashes through my head. I’ve been in a Danny daze and forgot my better judgment at the bedroom door.
Shit.
“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I just…” He walks inside and sits on the end of the bed.

“I knew better. I knew what I was signing and,” I say, looking away from him pained I’ve brought this on him. “I shouldn’t have crossed that li—”

He holds a hand out to me and says, “C’mere.”

I walk to him. Standing in front of him, I add, “I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want to lose you.”

He leans back, inviting me to straddle him. Running my fingers through the hair around his ears, I wait for him to talk. Taking hold of my hips, he tries to give me a smile but it’s not really there. The worry runs deep. “I want to be with you. I don’t want to lose you, not for six months and definitely not for a year. We’ve lost ten already. I don’t want to wait to start a life with you. Do you want to be with me? Right here, right now, do you want to be with me?”

My eyes fill with tears threatening to fall. “That’s all I’ve wanted for what feels like my whole life.”

Sitting up, he drags me closer. He kisses my chin and whispers, “Say it again. For me.”

“You’re all I’ve wanted my whole life.”

Our lips meet in a gentle caress while his hands slide up my back. The kiss deepens, darkens, as something else possesses it. A need. A craving. A conquest. He turns me over on the mattress, my back flat as he moves on top, his body urging mine to join his rhythm.

We kiss, but soon the frenzy slows, an ominous cloud hovering above the bed. His forehead is rested against mine, one small kiss placed on my lips before he moves to the side of me. I snuggle against him.

Lying there with our hearts exposed, our emotions raw, I feel outside my body, a feeling I was temporarily distracted from when he came back into my life. I don’t want to live in the dark anymore. Not when I have so much light back in my life. I refuse to let go. I will fight. I will fight for us, for this second chance.

Emotional exhaustion leads to sleep, and I give in.

Awakened in the middle of the night by ringing, Danny sits up startled. He grabs his phone and answers rashly, “What?”

I sit up and lean against the headboard watching him, trying to give him privacy, but his temper has a rippling effect. He responds, “I can’t do it… I won’t.” His anger gets the best of him, and he gets out of bed. “That makes no sense. Who’ll believe us?” The moonlight highlights each sculpted muscle on his bare body as he stands looking out through the closed French doors. “Give me time to think. I’ll call you in the morning.” When he hangs up, he looks over at me. I’m pinned by his gaze; unable to read the most readable eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s hiding something from me, protecting me.

I can feel it.

Wrapping my arms around my legs, I rest my chin on my knees. “What’s wrong?”

Walking to the bathroom, he says, “Get some rest. We still have the shoot tomorrow.”

“Danny, tell me what’s wrong?”

He stops in the doorway with his back to me, and says, “Go back to sleep, Reese.”

Swinging my legs off the bed, I don’t reach the door before it shuts. I open it and my eyes meet his in the reflection of the mirror. His palms rest heavy on the marble counter, and he asks, “Were you always this feisty?”

“No. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

“What lesson did you learn?”

“That I need to stay and fight for what I want.”

“It’s like history repeating itself. But this time, we may not have a choice.”

I move to the counter, ducking under his arm and sandwiching myself between the marble and him. “What does that mean?”

With just a breath between us, he replies, “The collective advisement is for me not to see you again.”

His words punch me in the gut. My arm covers my stomach and I ask, “By your lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fifteen million dollars, not including legal fees.”

A harsh breath escapes when I’m sucker-punched by the reality that he might not fight for me. Leaning back, I need perspective and being this close makes me lose it. “What are you saying? I thought you were going to fight?”

“You said you didn’t want me to.”

“I want you to, Danny. Of course I do. I’m a woman. I want you to fight for me. I just don’t want you to lose your money or your life doing it. I could never live with that guilt. You’d never look at me the same.”

His expression softens and he steps back. With a sly grin on his face, he says, “I’m going to be very upfront with you, Reese. I’ve got money in the bank and endorsements that will earn out over the next few years. I would give anything to be with you, but if something were to happen…” His hand waves down his body. “This is my reality. My job is based on my face, my body.” Looking away briefly I can see how much this troubles him. “I couldn’t take care of you. Not how I’d want to. I don’t have a career that will support me for a lifetime without saving my money now. My agent, my lawyer, and my financial advisor all tell me not to fight this and to settle out of court.”

“If you settle, how much will it cost you?”

“Seven.”

“Seven million dollars?” I try to process how fucked up this really is, that our love has caused a lawsuit.

The silence is broken when he says, “If this was two years from now, I’d be more comfortable with the savings. A plan is in place to grow the money and I’ll have those endorsements paid out. But right now… I want to buy us a house one day and the real estate market in LA is insane.” Taking my hands in his, he looks right into my eyes. “I will give it up for you, Reese. For this second chance.” He touches my cheek. “I lost you once. I won’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me if you don’t fight this. But I can’t sit by and let you take this hit all on your own.”

“It’s my situation to handle.” I watch as he walks back into the bedroom and climbs into bed.

I’m right behind him. When I climb into bed, he immediately pulls me close though I feel terrible I’ve caused him this much trouble. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t say it again. I don’t blame you. I’m not innocent in this. You didn’t cause this anymore than I did.”

With my head against his chest, I listen to his heart beating strong. “I’m to blame for Keaton.”

He’s quiet. When I look up, his eyes are closed. “Sleep, pretty. We’ll deal with it in the daylight.” I close my eyes, and he kisses my head. “We always have tomorrow.”

Do we?

I’ve been given a chance at the life I’ve always wanted, and now it’s being taken away. My heartbeats are faint, the thought of losing him, again, devastating. When he reassures so kindly, I only have one thought…

Do we have tomorrow together?

TOMORROW.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Will we have a tomorrow? I remember the last time I foolishly thought I’d have a lifetime of tomorrows with Reese.