Charles had hired an attorney who was flying in from Los Angeles, and the whole time the medics had been loading his sister into the ambulance, Charles had been bending Nate’s ear about getting his sister the kind of help she so obviously needed. Clearly, she wasn’t in her right mind.
In Mac’s opinion, they both needed help. He hadn’t envied Nate when he’d driven off behind the ambulance.
As the vehicles had pulled away, he’d looked for Reese. But she’d vanished as completely as those two apparitions had on the rock ledge. One of the staff members had told him that she’d gotten a call on her cell and hurried back into the lobby.
That was when the panic had set in. Because there was a good chance that the call had been from her agent, Madelyn Willard. That was what they’d arranged yesterday. He would sell Reese on the idea of using Haworth House for background shots, and then Madelyn would call this morning to finalize the details.
Reese could very well know who he was by now. And she’d have questions. He needed to find her and explain. They needed to talk.
The lobby was the first place he’d checked, but there’d been no sign of her. No one had even remembered seeing her.
Panic was now a steady thrum in his blood as he’d called her cell.
No answer.
He tried her room next. She hadn’t answered the hotel phone, nor had she answered his knock.
The next place he’d checked was the cliff path. He’d even climbed down into the little cave to make sure. But she hadn’t been there either.
“Looking for someone?”
Mac turned to find Avery at his side. “I can’t find her. We were watching Nate and the ambulance pull away, and she disappeared. The most I’ve been able to learn is that she took a call on her cell.”
“Try the tower room. She told me she was going there to talk with Hattie. She wants to deal with the fantasy that she drew out of Hattie’s box once and for all.”
Talk with Hattie. Deal with the fantasy. Not the words he wanted to hear. Mac shoved down a new spike of panic. “I have to talk to her first.” Because he knew exactly what he wanted to do about the fantasy.
Whirling, Mac nearly collided with a couple before he took the lobby stairs two at a time. He didn’t see the wide smile that blossomed on Avery’s face.
IN THE TOWER ROOM, REESE faced her image in the mirror. It had been fifteen months since she’d stood in front of the beveled glass with her sisters and toasted their purchase of Haworth House with champagne.
Fifteen months since she’d drawn the boy toy fantasy out of Hattie’s box. And hardly more than twenty-four hours since she’d told Hattie she wasn’t going to be pushed into anything. She was going to take charge of her life…and her fantasy.Slipping the parchment paper out of her pocket, she stared down at it. Well, she’d certainly taken charge.
Drawing in a deep breath, she looked into the mirror. “I came up here to talk to you about this fantasy thing.”
Nothing.
She lifted her chin. “I didn’t want it. And maybe I was resentful because I felt you were pushing me into something. But I’m not going to apologize. Because I was right. I don’t want the fantasy.”
Nothing.
Panic threatened to bubble up and Reese shoved it down hard. It wouldn’t help to give into it. Instead, she set the envelope on a nearby table and frowned into the glass.
“Look, I know you’ve done a lot already. You saved my life. Maybe Mac’s, too. But I didn’t ask for the fantasy—this boy toy thing. And then, when I saw Mac, I did. So much that I didn’t even try to find out anything about him. And now that I know who he is…I mean, he’s a Hollywood producer. Maybe this isn’t his first shot at being a boy toy. I don’t know what to think, what to do.”
She was babbling. How did she expect Hattie and Samuel to help her if she didn’t give them a chance. She waited a full five beats, then fisted her hands on her hips and tapped a foot impatiently. “Well? You’re the ones who stuck me with the fantasy, I think you should help me figure out where to go from here.”
This time she thought she saw a shimmer in the mirror.
“Maybe I could give you some direction instead.”
She whirled to see Mac standing at the head of the stairs.
Panic threatened again, but it would have had to fight past the nerves knotting in her stomach. She wasn’t ready to talk to him. She didn’t have a plan.
And he shouldn’t be here.
“How did you get in?” She frowned at him. “Did Avery give you the code?”
Mac shook his head. “The door opened the instant I touched the handle.”
“Hattie,” she said.
He hoped to God that Hattie was on his side. He’d made it to the top of the stairs, but ever since he’d heard her say that she didn’t want the fantasy, fear had frozen him to the spot. “I couldn’t help but overhear some of what you were saying to Hattie and Samuel.”
“You eavesdropped. Again.”
“Yeah. And I won’t apologize for that. But I am sorry that I didn’t tell you who I was right from the beginning. I got caught up in the fantasy.”
“Me, too…but—”
“No.” He finally got his feet unglued and moved forward. “Don’t say any more until I finish.” When he reached her, he took her hands in his. The fact that she didn’t pull away eased some of his panic.
He still didn’t have a clue what to say to her. But he felt he owed her honesty. “My life was just fine before I met you. Or I thought it was.”
“Me, too. I was very happy with my life—except for a finicky producer who couldn’t make up his mind about my television show.”
“Touché. I told you the truth about the boy toy thing. I was new at it. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
She said nothing.
Okay. He needed a new tack. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the parchment envelope on a nearby table and suddenly it came to him. “We’ve had a pretty fast ride, Reese. And since you didn’t know who I was when we started all this, I think we should start over.”
She simply stared at him.
Panic threatened again. “That’s what I had to do every time I tried to find the right artistic venue for your show.”
Finally, she nodded, her eyes steady on his. “As I recall, you started that over three times.”
“Because I like to get it right. But I couldn’t seem to do that with you. Even the pilot we sold wasn’t perfect. That’s why I came here, hoping to find the answer. And I did. I want to use Haworth House as the setting for Reese Cooks for Friends. As soon as I got here, something clicked. I knew it would be perfect.”
“I could have told you that. I made an appointment to suggest we use Haworth House, but you wouldn’t see me.”
“Because I was afraid. I was so afraid of what I was feeling for you even then. But if I hadn’t come here, I might never have found you.”
He kept one of her hands in his as he drew her over to the table. “With you, I need to get everything perfect. I’d like you to read your fantasy to me again.”
Her eyes narrowed briefly on his before she released his hand, picked up the envelope and pulled the parchment out. “You will explore all of the sensual delights of having your own boy toy.”
Mac snagged her hand and dropped to one knee. “If this is your fantasy, I want to apply for the job again. But this time, I want more than a weekend. And I want you to know that being with you is more than a fantasy to me. It’s become my dream.”
Reese stared at him. “Your dream?”
“We agreed there’s a difference. Remember?”
She nodded.
“I want a chance to achieve my dream. I love you. So if I can’t get it right the first time, if either of us is unhappy with the results, I want unlimited chances to start over.”
She dropped to her knees.
He saw the tears brimming in her eyes and panic bubbled up again.
“What if you do get it right?” she asked. “What if you already have?”
He smiled at her. And framing her face with his hands, he brushed away the escaping tears with his thumbs. “Well, there’s always something to be tweaked. You know me. I figure there’s got to be something we can work on.”
“As long as we’re working on it together.”
“Exactly.”
“I love you, too, Mac.” She smiled at him then. “But you may still be going just a little too fast for me. I think we should take a test drive.”
“Excellent idea.”
She was already pulling his shirt off.
“I think I’m going to enjoy working with you, Reese Brightman.”
“Don’t jump to any rash conclusions,” she cautioned as she threaded her hands into his hair and drew his mouth close to hers. “We can always start over.”
As their lips met, melded, mated, they both heard it—a shimmer of satisfied laughter.
SAVING BRIE
1
11:30 a.m. Friday—Singles Weekend, Day 1
BRIE SULLIVAN AWOKE SLOWLY, absorbing each separate detail as she moved through the layers of sleep. There was the hum of a motor, the muted sound of a bluesy sax and it was daylight.
Where was she?Opening her eyes, she blinked at the sun’s rays flooding the car, then squeezed her eyes shut again.