Living Dangerously (5 page)

Sitting up, he took the tray of soup his mother had brought. He needed to get stronger. Needed to finally make his move and show Julie they were meant for each other. Once he sold his video game, he’d be rolling in dough. All he needed was one company to take the chance. One company to distribute his game, and he’d have the money to keep her happy for the rest of her life. He knew very well that Julie wanted a regular guy. He’d seen enough interviews to know she didn’t want to be with another actor. She wanted a guy who knew nothing about show business. A guy with his own interests and his own independence.

Very, very soon, that would be him.

* * *

Abbey hurried through the hospital doors, signed in, got her visitor’s pass and rushed to the bank of elevators. Keeping up with Julie’s schedule was tough enough, but doing it while Julie was stuck in a hospital made life twice as hard. It also made getting to her dance class virtually impossible.

In the two days she’d been visiting Julie at the hospital, she’d learned the elevators were notoriously slow, so when the doors began to close, she leaped forward. “Hold the elevator, please!”

A hand shot through the small space and held the doors back. They yawned open and Abbey looked into the sweetest blue eyes she’d ever seen. The man—if she could call him that, because he really seemed like a big boy—had dark hair with shades of deep red. Wide shoulders accentuated narrow hips, and soft, faded denim covered long, lean legs. A stud in the making.

“Thanks.” Breathing hard, she adjusted the pack over her shoulder. The elevators were so slow, she’d have had to wait fifteen minutes for another one. She was not a fan of empty staircases.

“No problem. What floor?” the guy asked. He scanned her from top to bottom. It wasn’t anything Abbey hadn’t been through before, but his obvious interest as he met her gaze set her stomach into a little somersault. The boy-next-door face contradicted the man-body. As far as man candy went, this guy was the whole Hershey bar inside the s’more.

“Four,” she said.

He glanced at the button panel. “You’re in luck. It’s already been pressed. That’s where I’m going.” He lifted a dark eyebrow and gave her a killer grin. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-one. She ignored him.

The doors slid slowly closed with a groan and imparted less than a miniscule amount of hope that the car would actually get them to the fourth floor.

“Beautiful day today, don’t you think?” he asked.

She resisted the eye roll and gave a quick noncommittal nod. She wasn’t much for small talk with strange men. No matter how cute or sexy.

The car jerked up, then down, then back up again and they both grabbed onto the wall for support. It jolted again and he let fly a “what the fuck!” Her “shit on a stick,” came right on its heels. Another jolt knocked her off balance and Abbey fell forward. Her elevator buddy reached out an arm and caught her before she slammed into the closed elevator doors.

“You okay?” he asked as she straightened.

She nodded, adrenaline rushing through her veins. The car stood completely still. No sound, no movement. “Wow. That caught me by surprise.”

“Caught us both by surprise,” he admitted. They looked around the small car, silent and waiting for a very long minute. “This does not bode well,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

She agreed with a nod. “Isn’t there supposed to be a phone in here? Or a button for emergencies?” She scanned the panel for any kind of guide, and dropped her pack on the floor.

“You’d think so.” He looked at the roof and she followed his gaze.

She didn’t see a panel someone might crawl through. Duh. She whipped out her cell phone from her pocket and held it up. “Good thing we’ve got phones.”

His smile leveled her. It didn’t just knock her back, it nearly knocked her out. When he flashed his amazing straight white grin, she felt another shot of flutters in her stomach, but she was used to pretty faces so she remained immune to this one. There were worse things than being stuck in an elevator with a gorgeous guy. He was probably harmless.

Abbey called 911, explained the situation, gave the dispatcher her number and disconnected the call. “We may be here awhile.”

He checked his watch and sighed. “Great. Guess I need to make a phone call too.” He plucked his phone from his back pocket and scrolled for the number he wanted. “Hey. It’s me. I’m here, but I’m stuck in the elevator. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He listened. “Okay.” He ended the call and put the phone back.

They stood there for a minute, but it felt more like ten. It seemed stupid to be stuck and not say anything to each other. What if they spent the next hour here together? Or ten? She looked around the small space and swallowed. No way could she handle that many hours in this little box.

“Uh... I’m Blake.” He stuck his hand out.

Taking a steadying breath, Abbey took his hand. “Abbey. Hi.” It was big and warm and nearly engulfed hers. “Ever been stuck in an elevator before?”

He shook his head. “Can’t say as I have. First time for everything, I guess. You?”

“Nope. First time.” But she had been locked in a dark closet for half a day. Abbey took another breath and concentrated on calm. No need to panic. She’d probably be out of here in no time once they got a repair guy out.

Blake took one last look around and sat down, stretching his long legs in front of him toward the door as he leaned against the back wall. He glanced up at her and gestured to the spot next to him. “Pull up the floor. Like you said, it might be a while.”

Yes, she had said that before the panic had kicked in. But if she continued to stand, she’d end up pacing and that would take the air faster so she needed to sit down and relax. Under Blake’s gaze, Abbey dropped against the other wall and stretched out her legs.

This man—boy—this boy was harmless. Yes, he was over six feet tall with solid muscle, but nothing about him screamed danger. He was just as stuck as she was. She only wished her palms would quit sweating and her seizing lungs would relax.

His forehead crinkled up. “You okay? You look a little...nervous.”

She ran her hands down her thighs, wiped off the sweat. “I’m not great in small spaces,” she confessed. “But I’m fine.”

“Define ‘fine,’ because you’re looking a little green around the edges.”

Her breathing was getting choppier by the second. It was ridiculous to think she might really hyperventilate. She hadn’t had an attack in years. Nevertheless, her lungs screamed for air and she couldn’t seem to pull any in.

“Hey, there,” he said, crawling toward her, his face serious, his blue eyes concerned. “You’re okay. Take it easy. Watch me.” He got right in front of her, closer than she’d been to any man in years, and her breathing got tougher for a different reason. “Breathe with me.” He took her hand and set her palm against his chest. Good Lord Almighty, he had a rock-solid chest under his brown button-up shirt. “In and out. C’mon now. Breathe with me. Slow and easy. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Big breath.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Exhale slow. Do it again.” He breathed with her for a few minutes until her lungs didn’t feel as if they might explode. Her heart still thundered. He rubbed the back of her hand, still resting on his chest. “Better?” he asked.

Abbey swallowed and nodded.

He grinned and his charm doubled. She let her panic drift away. “Bet you’re wishing you’d taken the stairs right about now? Huh?” he asked.

She didn’t know how to answer that question honestly without being cryptic, and the last thing she wanted to do was sound like a victim. She never realized how getting stuck in an elevator would send her back eight years to that time in the closet. Abbey would’ve sworn she was over it. Hadn’t thought about it in years. It had been the moments in the stairwell, the few minutes before that vile man had carried her kicking and screaming into his apartment that had traumatized her most. Apparently she could add locked boxes of any kind to the list of places that triggered her anxiety.

The elevator jolted and Blake fell into her. He caught himself with his hands on either side of her head, their faces inches apart. Her pulse took another leap. He smelled like breath mints and spicy aftershave. Not a bad combination. His gaze roamed from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes.

“This box is better than a ride at Six Flags. And it didn’t cost us anything.” His voice sounded gruff and Abbey forgot to breathe again, but this time it was because of him.

The elevator jolted again. Blake sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulder, keeping her close to his side. If he noticed her stiffness, he didn’t let on. “At least we’re moving in the right direction,” he said.

Abbey nodded, too afraid she’d burst into stupid tears if she uttered a word. This guy wasn’t going to hurt her. Why couldn’t she just wait out the time like a normal human being?

“What if we fall?” Had she really just asked that?

“We won’t fall. We’re going up,” he pointed out.

The car jolted again, and she gasped and grabbed onto his free arm while his other arm pulled her closer against him. She hated being such a wimp.

“I’m not usually this chicken.” In fact she prided herself on how far she’d come and on her continued participation in self-defense courses. But she had to concede it wasn’t the man so much as the situation that had her freaking out. Her breathing started going funky again.

“Hey, now.” His tone commanded her attention and she looked up at him. “You’re okay. I’m not letting anything happen to either one of us.”

She laughed. “That’s a nice sentiment, but if this thing decides it’s going to drop, there’s not much you can do.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He rubbed her arm. “How ’bout I take your mind off it?” The elevator continued to jolt its way upward, groaning, creaking and grinding the whole time.

“Honestly, I can guarantee there is no way you can take my mind off of this.”

He tipped her chin up to face him, his eyes staring into hers. “I can try,” he murmured. He slanted his head just a fraction and moved in a little more.

She thought her heart might burst out of her chest. “What are you doing?” Abbey whispered since her vocal chords seemed to have left the building.

“Taking your mind off the situation.”

He’d certainly succeeded because all she could think about was the lack of space between his mouth and hers. “What situation?” She grinned because he was actually doing it. His lids had half closed over his clear blue eyes, but the corners of his lips quirked up in a reckless smile.

“See how good I am?” His seductive tone sent a fresh ripple of chills down her back, but the line reeked of “playboy” and Abbey pulled back. “I’m not sure what we’re talking about now.”

“I could show you what I’m talking about.” Blake moved in again. Slowly.

Hold
on
,
Stud
Muffin
. “You don’t really think I’m going to let you kiss me, do you? I don’t even know you.”

He stopped, but held the ground he’d covered. “Sure you do. I’m Blake, remember? We shook hands a few minutes ago.”

Abbey sputtered a laugh. She couldn’t help it. He was undeniably gorgeous.

“And you’re Abbey. The very beautiful Abbey, who I will be thinking about the rest of the day. Definitely the week. Probably the month.”

Abbey couldn’t help herself. “Why?” she asked. Her stiffness usually turned guys off. They might’ve looked, but her cold shoulder generally had them moving in the other direction.

His thumb stroked along her jaw and sent the hair on her nape standing at attention. “Because the second you walked into this elevator I fell head over ass in love with you.”

The elevator gave a mighty jolt and knocked them sideways. The doors opened a crack. “You folks okay in there?” a gruff voice called. The doors opened more, and the scary sight of seeing that the car hadn’t yet arrived on the floor had Abbey’s heart rate soaring. A fireman, dressed in full gear, stood a good yard over their heads.

Blake jumped to his feet and hauled her up next to him as the doors opened another foot.

“We’re going to pull you both out of there as soon as we get this door opened a little more. Sound good?” The fireman peeked his head in the opening.

“I can boost her up to you,” Blake called.

“We’ll get her. We just need to get these doors opened a little wider. Should be ready in two minutes.”

Blake pulled her forward. “Ever ride a horse before?” he asked.

“What?” Abbey had an instant vision of riding Blake, sans clothes. She felt her cheeks heat. “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked, setting her pack over her shoulders.

He grinned and cupped his hands low in front of him. “I’m going to give you a boost. You grab onto his hand and I’ll give you a little push.” He got into position. “Up you go.”

Abbey didn’t move. She felt silly now that it was all over. “Thank you for taking my mind off the situation.” He’d certainly done what he’d set out to do. All she could think about now was kissing him.

He straightened, took a step toward her and got close. Very close. “It was my pleasure.” He tipped her chin up and bent his head just as the doors opened wider and the elevator jolted. They braced themselves against each other and Abbey felt the muscled ridges of his abs.

“Let’s go you two, while the getting’s good,” the fireman said.

Blake grinned and resumed the position with his hands cupped low for her to step into. “After you.”

Chapter Five

Troy gingerly pulled up his jeans. It took him twice as long to do everything with his arm in the damn sling. Thank God he was right-handed or he’d really be screwed. Three days in the hospital had been three days too long, but he’d lost so much blood, he’d needed two transfusions and his doctors wanted to make sure his hemoglobin stayed at a healthy level. He couldn’t wait to get out.

He stopped in midzip and had to retract the thought. Spending time with Julie Fraser had been worth the price. She’d mistakenly put him on a pedestal, an interesting turn of events considering she was probably used to that type of thing.

He still couldn’t believe he was on a first name basis with her and that they’d actually chatted the past two days. Her round of questions had been a ball buster he hadn’t needed, but her friend Carrie Ann had broken it up easily enough.

Thinking back to
Nowhere
to
Hide
, Troy remembered Carrie Ann topless as she executed a pole dance and striptease. The over-the-top scene had been the nail in her review coffin. Hell, he’d been embarrassed to watch it, and it took a whole lot to embarrass
him
. He’d seen trailers of some of her other films, but none of them had achieved great success.

After dropping the hospital bag on the bed, he finished dressing and began gathering his few belongings before clearing out.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Troy’s new assistant, Blake, sauntered into the room. He was using Troy’s P.I. license as the umbrella for his required six thousand hours of on-the-job experience. “The wait for an elevator might take some time. One of them is very much out of commission.” The kid had brought him things from home and had been holding down the office during his hospital stay. Though young, Blake was eager to learn, and Troy had needed the help to keep up with the business coming his way. It seemed every time he saw Blake, the guy had grown another inch high and wide.

“Not a problem. The doctor just signed my release papers. I couldn’t have left before now anyway.”

Years ago, he’d worked for a woman to locate her sister. He’d found that needle in the haystack by being in the right place at the right time. The P.I. gods had looked down upon him with favor. After a year of searching, he’d been two seconds away from telling her that he was giving up. He’d worked his ass off trying to locate that woman. He’d had his cell phone in his hand, sitting at a sports bar when he’d seen the teaser. A picture of Trace Bradshaw had flashed on the screen and it was like looking at his client. In that second he knew. Instead of calling his client to tell her he could no longer take her money in good conscience, he’d called her to tell her to watch the All Sports Network. Another successful locate.

He’d worked for Trace Bradshaw’s brother-in-law after that, and because they’d been on a movie set, his name had been passed around and before he knew it, he had nothing but high-profile clients asking him either to do background checks or spy on cheating spouses. He hadn’t thought he’d feel dirty doing the work. On the other hand, the whole idea of “‘Til death do us part” was highly overrated in his book. He’d seen that up close and personal in the worst way imaginable.

“Did you manage to get any info while you were here?” Blake asked, interrupting Troy’s thoughts.

“Other than the fact that she’s had a stream of visitors a mile long, including Ari, no,” Troy said, shoving his wallet into his back pocket. He’d had to dodge Trace Bradshaw during her visit to Julie. It wouldn’t do any good to be outed by a former client’s sister—not to mention his most famous locate—before he wrapped up the case.

People cheated. Innately, people didn’t know how to stay with the same person for their entire lives. Sure, someone could argue that he hadn’t worked for everyone on the entire planet, and therefore happiness might exist for a few happy slobs, but for the most part... Love sucked. He’d seen that reality up close too.

“How often are spouses wrong about their cheating partners?” Blake asked. The kid was like a sponge, always wanting and soaking up information.

“So far I’ve only met one.” With Sophia’s claim that Ari was fucking Julie, Troy’s hardened heart had taken an unexpected hit to discover this movie star might be a mistress to a sleazy producer. Maybe that’s why he wanted to hold out until he had absolute proof. Until then, he could still admire her, still respect her. Julie wasn’t ruining this marriage until he could prove it. A little piece of him had been crushed to think someone who seemed so wholesome could be just as tawdry as anyone else.

The pisser had come when he’d talked to her. She was nice. She
was
wholesome, beautiful and funny and everything he always thought she’d be from watching her on television.

“Do you think these two are doing the nasty?” Blake lifted a dark eyebrow.

Troy still couldn’t picture her with Ari, but chances were good that they were carrying on an affair. They’d already had two meals together. Sophia had told him when she hired him that Ari was using the excuse that he wanted to hire Julie to star in his next film and needed to talk to her regarding her vision of the character.

Yeah, right. And he had a bridge in San Francisco he was dying to sell.

“Anything is possible.” Troy said.

Blake helped him zip his bag. “Have you looked into the shooting? I figured you’d start investigating since you got hit.”

“I thought for the time being I’d let the police handle it. There’s a chance the shooter didn’t have a specific bone to pick with Julie Fraser, in which case it’s not likely she’s in danger anymore. The suspect might have targeted her that night, but Julie had a point. Maybe the shooter only wanted the notoriety of hitting a movie star so it doesn’t mean she continues to be a target now. Besides, I’d have to bill myself and I’m expensive.”

Blake chuckled. “How long will you be in the sling?”

“A few more days, I guess. I’m supposed to follow my pain.”

Adjusting the bag over his shoulder, Blake glanced at Troy’s arm. “For what it’s worth, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t run into any more bullets. I need the job.”

Troy opened the bedside table to check he’d cleared everything out. “Trust me, it’s not in my plans.”

He had done some work for Blake’s father, a defense lawyer. Usually, Troy didn’t love working for the guys who attempted to get people back on the streets after committing their crimes, but Blake’s dad was a decent man who asserted that not all people taken into custody were guilty, and all had a right to a fair trial. The man had a point.

Which meant there remained a fraction of a chance that Julie and Ari were not actually fucking each other.

Despite his new crush since meeting Julie, he had a job to do. But he did want to say goodbye to her before he left. “I’ll be right back,” Troy told Blake. “The nurse is supposed to come with a wheelchair.”

Blake leaned against the windowsill. “I’ll be here.”

Troy had told Blake to keep a low profile if he came to the hospital. A security guard would not have an assistant, and he didn’t want to lie to Julie more than he had to. He went to her room and found an empty bed with the sheets pulled back. The bathroom door sat ajar, also empty. He checked up and down the hallway. No sign of her. He had no idea how long she’d be gone.

Damn.

He’d probably see her again if she had any contact with Ari, but the dynamic would be completely different. He’d had her to himself for a couple of days, but as soon as she got out of the hospital, she’d once again belong to the world.

Rehab. She was probably in physical therapy. What the hell. He’d detour there on the way out. Chances were he’d only see her through his camera lens after today so he might as well take this one last opportunity.

Troy sucked it up and went back to his room where his four-wheeled chariot awaited.

* * *

After visiting the pediatric ward, Julie finished her rehab session early and wiped off the sweat. She’d sent Abbey home after the elevator fiasco. The poor kid was still shaking after fifteen minutes so Julie gave her the afternoon off.

Now, in front of the bathroom mirror, Julie took an extra few minutes to fix her hair and put on a little lip gloss. She grinned at her reflection, then lost the smile. “Stop it,” she told herself. “He’s just a man. You talk to men all the time.

“Not men who dodge bullets and risk their life for you,” she answered herself.

She thought about other men coming to her aid the way Troy had done, and laughed out loud. Lucas Monroe and Leo Frost would’ve fought over being the first to run away screaming for help.

She ran her hand through her hair and tousled it just enough to make it look like she hadn’t styled it. She wanted more time with Troy, just to talk. Cal had hung around yesterday and Julie hadn’t had a chance to see Troy again. He’d be leaving the hospital today. If she were lucky, she’d catch him before he disappeared.

Happy to be rid of the IV stand, she shuffled toward his room. Most of the nursing staff had already stopped in to say hi and they waved as she made her way down the sterile hall. The bright smile she pasted on her face vanished as she entered the room. The bed was made so tight she could’ve bounced a quarter off of it. The bedside table had an unopened water pitcher and basin waiting for the next occupant.

A tiny seed of disappointment took root in her stomach. The room had clearly been vacated, but she moved to the closet anyway and opened the door. Empty. Her shoulders slumped. Her happiness sputtered out and died a quick death.

He’d been discharged. Hadn’t bothered to say goodbye. She’d missed her chance to get his number or give him her number.

Unless he didn’t want her number. Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with the woman who nearly cost him his life.

Her hurt turned to anger. Was she beneath a goodbye? Was his life so busy that he couldn’t take the time to stop by or write a note? Had he figured that saving her life had been plenty and she wasn’t worth the extra time?

Julie straightened her shoulders and moved out of the room, disgusted with herself for getting angry. What was the point? Five minutes ago she couldn’t wait to set eyes on him, and now she had to get used to the idea that she’d probably
never
see him again.

She’d thought he was different. Quiet, yes, but nice, brave and funny. Did she forget to mention gorgeous?

Maybe stardom had given her a big ego after all. Her mom had been warning her about that. Just because she had fame and fortune didn’t mean everything in life would go her way. Why was her mom always right?

If she really wanted to, she could probably call the Sporties and track him down, get a list of their security team. Wouldn’t that shock the hell out him? But why bother? The man had made it clear that he didn’t particularly like her...at least not enough to say goodbye. What did that tell her?

You
can’t
always
get
what
you
want
. Mick Jagger said it so right.

* * *

A day later, Julie got back from rehab with Kelly at her side. A giant bouquet of white, pink and red roses sat on her bedside table. The massive arrangement stopped her cold. Had Troy sent her roses because he hadn’t said goodbye?

“Holy smokes,” Kelly whispered. “That is one giant-ass flower arrangement.”

Her thoughts exactly. Troy probably wouldn’t have known about her request to send donations to cancer research instead of flowers. Julie stared at the massive bouquet. What the hell was she going to do with the whole thing?

Kelly lifted a blond eyebrow. “You don’t seem too excited. Most women would be thrilled to get flowers like that.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but I think this is such a waste of money. People should donate to cancer research or their favorite charity.” She moved toward the flowers and plucked off the card. “These had to cost a fortune and they’ll be dead in a few days. Pointless,” she mumbled.

“Not if you’re a florist,” Kelly joked. She helped her in bed. “How long before they let you fly the coop?”

“I should find out today. I’m hoping by tomorrow or the next day at the latest. I might be moving slow, but I’m moving and I can continue physical therapy as an outpatient.”

“I see no reason why you can’t go home, but it’s up to the doctor. You’re doing great so I’d say there’s a good chance he’ll let you out.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Julie quipped. She eased under the covers and looked down at the card as Cal came in.

“What’s shakin’, girlie? Hey, Kelly.” She spotted the flowers. “Whoa, mama, who spent all that dough on you, chick? Look at those friggin’ roses, would you?”

“Yeah. They just got here,” Julie said, shaking her head. “Yes, it was very nice of someone to think of me and go to the trouble, but I specifically asked for people not to do that. I don’t understand why they don’t listen. It’s not hard. If I ask you not to do something, it means
don’t
do it.” Her agency or one of the production companies she’d worked for had probably sent them. No expense had been spared on this bouquet.

“Yikes,” Cal muttered. “Crabby much? I’ll be happy to take them off your hands. Who are they from anyway?”

Julie looked at the card still in her hand and the small hope that Troy might have sent them vanished as she scanned it. “Oh my God, this is priceless. Listen. ‘
To
Julie
,
I
couldn’t
imagine
a
world
without
you
.
Hope
these
roses
make
your
recovery
more
bearable
.
We’ll
be
together
soon
,
I
promise
.
My
undying
love
,
Allen
.’”

“Who’s Allen?” Cal asked.