Just a Summer Fling (25 page)

“You’ve spent a lot of time going forward,” he said, and she knew he was trying to understand.

“I’ve been acting since I was tiny, doing it professionally since I was a kid. I loved it, but I’ve
had
a career. I still want to act, but I don’t need to be obsessed about it. Meryl Streep lives in Connecticut—did you know that? She takes a couple jobs a year, if they’re right for her, and the rest of the time she’s at home. Being a mom, worrying about apples—whatever. She’s just living. That’s what I want to do. With you.”

She twisted around and propped herself up on her elbow so she could get a better view of his reaction. He looked unsure. “I could still do movies,” she said. “But only when it works. For us. If I could book jobs in the winter, that’d be great, right? So you could work up there when it’s busy and maybe I could start a little theater company and we’d put on plays for the summer people. And you’d come down here with me in the winter, maybe. I could keep this house—”

“You should definitely keep this house,” Josh agreed.

“And maybe we could build a place up north? For the
two of us? It’d be nice if it was on the lake, but it doesn’t have to be. Maybe there’s somewhere on your property we could build, near the stream. Daisy loves that property, right?”

“You can’t plan your whole life around a demon dog,” he said reluctantly.

“I’m not. I’m planning it around you. Around us.” She watched him as he heard the words, and smiled. “I know. It’s scary. It’s scaring me, too. We haven’t known each other that long. This is all new. But I want to do it. I want us to fight for it.”

He looked out at the city lights for a while, then down to their entwined fingers. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I want that, too.”

So they sat there in the darkness, and they were together. When they looked up, they saw stars. Not as many as they could see in Vermont, and not as bright, but stars all the same. Ashley thought of ancient seafarers being guided safely home, and she remembered how she’d felt like she was floating in space when Josh had taken her to the stream. Floating, but with her feet firmly anchored to Josh. It had happened quickly, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. He was her constant now. Her earth. And she was his
star.

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LAKE SULLIVAN ROMANCE BY CATE CAMERON . . .

Hometown Hero

COMING SOON FROM BERKLEY
SENSATION!

“HE’S CALLED THREE
times,” Bonita said. “I’m your roommate, not your secretary. Call him back, even if it’s just to tell him not to call anymore.”

Zara buried her head further beneath the throw pillows on their comfortably ragged sofa. If she could just stay there in the soft darkness a little longer, maybe it would all go away.

But Bonita wasn’t giving up. She lifted Zara’s feet and slid onto the couch, then let Zara’s feet fall into her lap and started massaging, her strong hands working through the calluses and tension.

“Or if he really
is
stalking you,” Bonita said softly, once she had Zara nice and relaxed, “you should call Terry. The company has a security department for a reason.”

Zara pulled her feet away peevishly. “I don’t want to talk to Terry. And Calvin Montgomery’s not a stalker,” she grumbled into the cushions.

“Good, then,” Bonita said. “So you can give him a call and deal with whatever it is.”

“We’ve always e-mailed before.” Zara pulled her head out from under the pillows and squinted through the late afternoon sunshine to see Bonita’s face. “That’s rude, right? If you set up a system of e-mailing, you shouldn’t just switch over to the phone because you feel like it. Right?”

“Really rude. You should call him up and tell him so.”

“I’m injured. When someone’s injured, they don’t have to talk on the phone.”

“Actually, you’re supposed to avoid looking at computer screens,” Bonita corrected. “So the phone would be better than e-mail. Maybe your friend knows that.”

“He’s not my friend. And since when are you an expert on concussions?”

“Since my darling roommate keeps getting them. And if he’s not your friend, what is he? He’s got a pretty sexy voice. Nice and low . . . I bet I could get him to moan real nice . . .”

“Yuck. Stay away from him. He’s an asshole.”

“Really?”

Bonita sounded like she was asking for the truth, so Zara took a moment to try to provide it. “I don’t know. Probably. I mean, he definitely
was
an asshole. But he’s been good ever since then. You know, good to Zane.”

Bonita already knew that story, so Zara didn’t have to explain what she meant. Except for maybe an elaboration on just how very good Calvin Montgomery had been to Zara’s brother. “He visits him more often than I do. He doesn’t travel as much as me, and he lives closer, so it’s easier for him. But still . . . he really stepped up. And Zane says he was good during the trial and everything, too.”

“So, you’re not returning his calls because . . . ?”

Because Calvin was part of Zara’s old life in Lake Sullivan, and she needed to keep a bit of distance from that world. She’d moved on. She’d grown up, but it was still easier to deal with it through the remoteness of e-mail rather than the immediacy of a phone call. Besides, Zara had a pretty
good idea of what Calvin wanted to talk about, and she didn’t think she was ready for that conversation. Zane’s impending release was exciting, of course, but also terrifying. What if he couldn’t cope? What if Zara couldn’t give him the help he needed?

But Bonita didn’t need to hear all that angst. So Zara shrugged and said, “I’ll call him. I just haven’t yet.”

And of course that was when Zara’s phone rang. She made a face. She could just let it go to the message system, but then she’d have to either listen to the message or erase it without listening, and both options seemed a bit overwhelming right then. “One more time?” she said pleadingly.

Bonita sighed dramatically. “Absolute
last
time, you baby.” She leaned over and pulled Zara’s cell phone off the coffee table. “Zara Hale’s phone.” She listened for a moment, then said, “Oh, hi, Andre, it’s Bonita. I think Zara’s around somewhere. . . . Let me just try to find her, okay?”

She held the phone out to Zara, who reluctantly took it. Andre was her manager and, at least in theory, was in her corner. Not someone she should be blowing off. “Hey, Andre,” she said, making sure she sounded chipper and bright. “You just caught me—I was on my way out for a run!” She ignored Bonita’s raised eyebrow.

“Did the doctors clear that?” Andre sounded skeptical.

“Yeah, of course.” They’d said she could start phasing in her normal routine again. She was pretty sure they’d meant, like, taking showers instead of baths, and getting dressed in real clothes instead of wearing sweats all day, but maybe they’d meant exercise. She couldn’t be sure.

“Well, okay,” Andre said reluctantly. “But you’re looking after yourself, right? You’re not pushing too hard?”

“Nope. I’m pushing just hard enough.”

“Okay, good. You need to come back strong and ready. You’re a major investment and you need to make sure you act that way.”

Funny, she’d thought she might be something that
wasn’t
purely financial. How naïve. “Yeah,” she said. “Strong and ready. Got it.”

“Okay. So, in the meantime . . .” Andre paused, and Zara could totally picture him leaning back in his chair, stroking his goatee, ready to drop the next line as if he was some sort of master of manipulation. “We have a new opportunity.”

“Yeah? What? Not more modelling—that was a disaster.”

“No. Not in entertainment, exactly . . .”

“Oh my God, Andre, do they want me to be an astronaut? That’s so exciting! I mean, it’s a surprise, sure, but I really think I can handle it!”

He gave her his best long-suffering sigh. It was more effective in person, and even there, it had long since lost its power against Zara. “No. Not an astronaut. But something almost as inspiring, really.”

“Porn?” she guessed.

“No. You’ve made your feelings on that perfectly clear.”

She shouldn’t have
had
to make her feelings on doing porn clear to the manager of her mixed martial arts career, but at least he’d finally gotten the message. “So . . . what?”

“You like kids, right? You’ve been looking for a chance to work with them more closely?”

“No, not really. Kids are pretty annoying, aren’t they? I mean, I don’t know that many, personally. But they don’t seem good.” She thought back over her very limited experience with people younger than herself. Loud, undisciplined, out of control. “Yeah, I think kids suck.”

“No,” he said with exaggerated patience. “You like them. You’ve been looking for an opportunity to give back to the community. You had a tough start and you still have some rough edges, but people have been understanding about that and given you chances, and now you want to help some other disadvantaged kids get a chance. Right?”

“Okay, first off, nobody
gave
me a damn thing. I
earned
my chances.”

“Fine. You earned them. And other kids should earn them, too. But they shouldn’t have to fight quite as hard as you did. They should get a bit of help. A hand up, not a hand out. Right?”

“Maybe?”

“Work with me, Zara. You’re at a crucial juncture of your career here. Two concussions is not good. Your opponents know to go for the headshot now. I know you’re fast and you usually take them out before they can land a good hit, but obviously that’s not always the case, or you wouldn’t be injured right now. Right?”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, you need to take a break until your brain is solid in your head again. The company isn’t going to let you fight anytime soon, even if we push for it. Their insurers and the PR department do
not
want their headlining female fighter pulling a
Million Dollar Baby
.”

“She was paraplegic, not brain damaged.”

“Whatever. The point is, you’re valuable healthy, and you’re a damn disaster if something goes permanently wrong. So they’re not going to let you back in the ring until their doctors say it’s safe. So unless you want to be looking at a layoff, we need to find ways to improve or at least maintain your value while you’re recovering. It can’t be physical. But it can be PR.”

“With
kids
?”

“Not just any kids. This guy hasn’t contacted you? This . . . Calvin Montgomery? He said he’d get in touch directly.”

Zara’s grip on the phone got a little tighter. “What the hell does Calvin Montgomery have to do with anything?”

“It’s his idea. And he’s got the company on his side, too.
I thought Terry was going to pass out, he was so excited about it all.”

“All
what
?”

“He really didn’t get in touch with you. Damn, he said he was going to.” Andre sounded a little disillusioned with Calvin Montgomery, but charged on anyway. “He wants you to help him start up a community center, back in your hometown. What’s it called? Lake Sullivan? Whatever. They’ve already got the place built and mostly staffed, but they’re looking for a few more people. He says there’s loads of disadvantaged kids there and they need some hope and someone to inspire them, and he wants you to be that person, and I swear, Terry just about came in his pants. Thinks it’s a good way to improve the MMA image. He’s throwing serious funding at the project. Some for you, some for the facility. It’s excellent.”

Andre paused for breath, and maybe Zara should have taken the opportunity to interrupt, but she was a bit too dazed by it all. “Montgomery wants your brother involved, which . . . I’m not so sure about. But, whatever, we can negotiate on that. But seriously, making you into some sort of Ripley character, like from
Aliens
? You’re a fierce warrior woman with a soft spot for kids. It’s brilliant. Just couldn’t be any better. You work there for a while, you do whatever the hell people do when they start up community centers, none of it hurts your brain, you train enough to stay fit but don’t bring yourself right up to the peak . . . I honestly can’t think of a better way for you to be spending your time. Can you?”

The list of better things was so long Zara wasn’t sure where to start. Should she organize the options alphabetically or in order of preference? Best to keep it simple, probably. “Anything but that.” Anything but going back to rural Vermont and getting involved with the Montgomery family and dealing with a bunch of annoying children. “Maybe I
could become a nun or something. They like kids, don’t they? Some of them?”

“Nuns can’t have sex, Zara. You still want to consider that option?”

“Maybe something else.” Her sex life might be a bit slow, but she wanted to at least keep the option open. “I mean, there’s plenty of messed-up kids in New York City! I can stay right here! And, you know, you can figure out photo ops or something, right? I don’t have to spend a
lot
of time with them, do I?”

“People aren’t as gullible as they used to be. It takes more than a few snapshots with some raggedy kids. We need testimonials from concerned locals, recorded tears from your protégés, poignant anecdotes about how much you’ve learned. We need more than a photo op, Zara.”

“This is bullshit. We don’t need any of that. I’m a fighter, not a humanitarian. I’m the MMA champion! I’ve got the damn belt—I’m looking at it right now. How is messing around with a bunch of kids going to make me fight better?”

“It’s going to make you
look
better,” Andre said, not entirely patiently. “You know how it goes. You get fights based on what the fans want to see, and right now . . . well, as long as you’re defending the title, you’re fine. But if you’re out for too long and lose the title, or if you come back and aren’t quite up to speed yet and lose it, you’re going to need the fans on your side. And it’ll do great things for your endorsements, too.”

“I’m so tired of that crap. The men are allowed to just
fight
. They don’t have to look pretty and flirt with reporters and work with damn kids!”

“Simple question, Zara. Because, I don’t know, maybe I missed something. So let me just check. . . . Are you a man?” Andre paused, just long enough to pretend he was waiting for an answer. “Oh, no, you’re not? Okay, next question. Do
you live in a fantasy world of total equality, or do you live in this world?” Another pause for effect. “Oh, you live in
this
world? Then stop wasting my time with your whining and help me manage your career as a female fighter in the current universe. Okay?”

Zara was pretty sure she was out of arguments, but that didn’t mean she liked the idea. “By working at a community center? Seriously?” She paused. “Why the hell is Calvin Montgomery interested in making me work at a community center?” And the worst part. “In
Lake Sullivan
? They don’t want me in Lake Sullivan, Cal. They practically kicked me out.”

“They want you now. Being on the cover of both
Sports Illustrated
and
Maxim
will change a lot of minds.”

“This whole thing is stupid.”

“Give it some thought,” Andre said soothingly. “It’d be good for your career, and like I said, Terry’s willing to pay for it all.”

“What does that mean, exactly? How much money?”

“We’ll have to negotiate the details. But it’ll be a hell of a lot more than you’d make lying around on your couch feeling sorry for yourself. And I’ll talk to your sponsors, too, see if we can milk some extra out of them.” He waited for her next objection. When it didn’t come, he said, “Okay, then. Think about it. I’ll talk to Terry and figure out some of the details. And look after your brain, okay?”

“Okay,” Zara said grudgingly. She hung up, then looked at Bonita, who’d been listening to Zara’s half of the conversation with obvious interest. “Fine, you’re right. I need to phone Calvin Montgomery. Did you write his number down somewhere?”

*   *   *

“MR.
Montgomery?” Allison’s voice stopped Cal on his way out the door. “Zara Hale is on line three for you.”

It was tempting to keep walking. He’d called the little
brat three times and she’d ignored him until he’d gone ahead and talked to her boss. Now she wanted to talk to him, but maybe
he
was too busy to talk this time.

Yeah, tempting, but not appropriate. He was the responsible one, after all. “I’ll catch up,” he told the people he’d been walking with. They were on their way to The Pier for lunch, so it wasn’t like he was going to be missing a meeting or anything. “Order for me—whatever the special is.”