Catch a Falling Star (In Love in the Limelight Book 3) Page 3

  “Mom, you are certifiable. First, you're all up in my grill because I don't have a girlfriend. Now you're on my case for being too starry-eyed about romance? Christ on a crutch, Mom, now I understand why Lola was always so frustrated every time she talked to you. I was always sympathetic, but wow, now I get it.”

  Charlotte just started laughing again.

  Chapter 3

  LOLA

  I can tell the kids are a little confused by Colin. And I want to reassure them that he's not mental. I do. But what can I say? I know why he's so fiercely protective of me. He sees Wendy as another version of Charlotte—a mad bitch who's out to make my life a living hell. But I can't tell them that he's protecting me from what he sees as a new incarnation of Charlotte. Not when Charlotte's not like that anymore. How can I tell them what a crazy-ass bitch Charlotte used to be to me? And why would I? She's like a fairy godmother to them more than a grandmother. And I'm not about to mess up their present by explaining my past. Yuck. I don't even want to go back there, let alone drag the kids with me.

  But Colin needs to snap out of it. He's got to realize how much he shocked everyone before. He's been lying low since. This is hardly the weekend party I had in mind, but I'm keeping too many secrets to make things go my way. The kids can never know how callously Jon gave them up—and at what price. And they don't need to know about my messy history with Charlotte. Colin just better behave, damn it.

  Chapter 4

  THE STORY OF WENDY AND COLIN

  For the rest of the day, Colin avoided Wendy and didn't say much. And neither did she. Not if he was close by. But man, Colin was dying to get someone alone in a corner and ask them why the hell Wendy was here, anyway. But he knew he was on really thin ice after the potshots he had taken at her earlier.

  How could they all be falling for her superstar diva nonsense? Couldn't they see that she wanted to be the center of attention? My God, she'd jumped right on their wagon when Jon gave them custody of the kids. Arlen's kids. The kids he'd raised for six years while Jon was off on a deadbeat dad binge. From what Lola'd said, Arlen had been wrecked when Jon took the kids back after Rachel died. It must have meant so much to Arlen to get them back. So much to Arlen and Lola.

  But Wendy had to stick her bony ass into the picture and make it all about her. The way she'd cozied up to Jon, pretending she was so grateful for how happy he'd made her co-star. But no, it was all about Wendy. Jon, the big-wig at Palm Leaf Beauty plus Wendy, the superstar with flawless skin. And bam! Wendy's multi-million dollar deal to be the spokesperson for Palm Leaf.

  God! How could Lola and Arlen be so blind to Wendy's schemes for Wendy? Were they desperate to keep her happy because superstar Wendy was the linchpin in the show? Were Arlen and Lola way more Hollywood than they let on? Lola always seemed to be so high above the egos and the ploys, dexterously maneuvering and balancing everyone else's insecurities with their talent in order to get the best work out of them. And Arlen really seemed like he could not care less about being famous, other than that it meant college and even grad school tuition for the kids. And of course, being famous meant the show kept going and he got to be in Lola's orbit 24/7 and she got to be in his. Is that why they were so determined to include Wendy in whatever she wanted to be a part of? Because keeping Wendy happy kept the show afloat and kept their lives nicely tucked together?

  Damn! It wasn't like Lola to operate like that. Motivated by fear? Letting someone else hold the cards? That was not Lola's m.o. Or at least, it didn't used to be. God almighty, it was like Wendy was blackmailing them into letting her be a part of their family!

  “Here.” Ray handed him an open Corona with a lime wedged into the bottle neck. He took a seat next to Colin on the back stairs, taking a swig from his own Corona.

  “Ray,” Colin greeted. “Where've you been all day?”

  “You know,” he said oh-so-casually.

  Colin watched as Ray took a longer pull from his bottle. “No,” he said, with a soft chuckle. “I don't know.” He lowered his voice. “But I'll listen if you want to tell me.”

  Ray looked at him. “No big deal. Had a fight with Tom. Made up. Fought again. I told him to go to hell. He took off in his Porsche. Now I'm here.”

  Colin nodded. “What was the fight about?”

  Ray shrugged. “He didn't want to come today. Said things were getting too touchy-feely with Lola and Arlen. And he IS the head of the fucking studio, you know. So he thinks he should keep more of a professional distance.”

  Colin nodded. “Well … maybe it's not such a bad idea. I mean, the show is getting more popular, contract re-negotiations—”

  “I know all that,” Ray snapped. Then he took another long drink. “Sorry.”

  “It's cool.”

  “The truth is … it's not Lola and Arlen he wants to keep at a distance. At a more professional distance. I mean, he's the boss. THE boss. And I work there. Like this is only occurring to him now.”

  “Oh.”

  Ray didn't say anything.

  “Sorry,” Colin said.

  “It's okay,” Ray sighed. “You know, it's actually kind of depressing how not upset I am. I mean, a year ago, whenever I thought that Tom might leave me, I got scared and cold and shaky. And now ...”

  “You don't see a future with him?”

  Ray shook his head. “I never really thought of the future. I mean, not a future future. I'd think about what we would wear to the Emmys, where we might go for Christmas, but I never got much further than that. And now I don't even think we'll make it that far this year.”

  Colin nodded slowly. “Will you miss him?”

  Ray looked down.

  “Come on!” Katie careened down the hall towards them and grabbed them each by an arm. “Picture time!” She pulled them into the living room where everyone was gathering.

  Everyone had their phones out and was snapping shots of … well, everyone. In groups, singly, posing, caught by surprise. Colin got out his phone to do the same but damn it all to hell if freaking Wendy Hunter wasn't in every shot. Right. Because didn't she have to pose with everyone?

  “Group shot,” Pam called, herding everyone together.

  They all dropped their phones on the table near the front of the room and scrambled to pose on the furniture like they were in some impromptu Family Feud tableau.

  Wendy had somehow ended up off to the side, towards the back, behind an end table. “Squish in closer, Wendy,” Pam called, orchestrating everything like a conductor from the front of the room.

  “Or,” Colin suggested, “you could take the picture.”

  Silence.

  “Uh …” Wendy said, “okay.” She started climbing over everyone to get to the font of the room when Arlen grabbed her by the arm.

  “You're not going anywhere.” He tucked her under one arm as he still held onto Lola with his other arm. Ella slithered in next to Wendy and hugged her.

  “Oh, don't look so grumpy,” Pam said, coming over to Colin and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Jason is going to take the picture.”

  “Who's Jason?”

  “He works at Dan's bar. He's here doing clean up and serving. He's been here all day.”

  “I thought he was Dan's boyfriend.”

  “Dan's not gay.”

  “Oh.”

  A guy of about twenty loped into the living room then, drying his hands on a dish towel tucked into the long white apron tied around his waist. “Okay,” he said, looking at the pile of phones in front of him. “A picture with every phone?”

  Ten minutes of picture-taking and Colin thought he would go crazy. Wendy was right there, in the middle of the family picture. Right with Lola and Arlen, on the other side of Arlen, like she was as important to the guy as Lola was. Could the woman be more self-involved?

  As soon as the last shot was taken, Colin grabbed his phone and headed outside to look out over the damn canyon. That was a thing people did in Hollywood. Right? He strode to the furthest edge of the prop
erty, trying to breathe. How had everything gotten so crazy?

  “Colin.”

  Arlen slid up next to him, like a phantom in the dusk. Quiet. Menacing.

  Shit.

  “You know,” Arlen began, “Lola's told me a lot about your relationship, what it was like growing up. How close you've stayed as you got older. The things you've done for her. The ways you've been there for her.” He turned to look right at Colin. “She cherishes you. And she's pretty damn smart. So you must be a great guy. You must be.”

  Colin looked at him warily in the faint glow of the lawn lights.

  “So why are you acting like such a complete asshole?”

  Colin looked down, stepped back.

  “Well, okay,” Arlen said to his silence. “At least you know you're being a jerk.”

  “I don't get why she's here,” Colin said, trying to keep the ferocity out of his voice. “She works with you and Lola. But she's here for every big deal. The wedding and now this.”

  “You're right,” Arlen said quietly. “You don't get it. Can't you trust Lola to know who her friends are and to know who she wants in her life?”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? I love Wendy. I would walk through fire for her. And so would Lola. So back off or back down. Stop whatever it is you think you're doing.”

  And as quietly as he had come, he was gone.

  Once everyone who didn't live there had drifted off for the night, Colin snuck back into the house. He was the only one actually staying in the house, not in a hotel. But after the wedding, he'd been more than happy to accept Matteo's invitation to stay in his room.

  He'd just slipped in the side door when Katie stuck her head out of the study. “Psst! Colin.” She waved him forward and bit back a sneaky smile. “Come here. You gotta see this.”

  Colin felt a pulse of warmth in his chest. Someone who wasn't mad at him. Of course it would be Katie. She was a junior in high school, the same age as so many of his players. Maybe that was why they got along so easily.

  Colin followed her into the study, but as soon as he heard her close the door behind him, he knew he'd walked into a trap.

  He turned around. “Katie.”

  “Colin.”

  “I'm sorry,” he said, knowing exactly what was expected of him.

  “You should be.”

  “We done?”

  “No.” She folded her arms.

  He relaxed his shoulders and waited.

  “You've only ever met Wendy twice,” she said. “Twice. The wedding and today. And even then you didn't really like her, and you'd just met her.”

  Colin nodded his acknowledgement.

  “Stop judging her by everything in the media. I've only lived in Hollywood for a few months, but it's long enough to know that what really goes on and what looks like goes on isn't at all the same. At all.”

  Colin couldn't help but smile at that. “No kidding.”

  He remembered how Wendy had been seen in the hallway of the hotel after she'd left his room back in September. Some European sex-god soccer player had been staying in the hotel that night and the media was abuzz for weeks about Wendy's secret affair with the dark and dangerous athlete.

  “It's not funny,” Katie said. “I know you do all this work with troubled teens in really poor communities and you help build lives.” Katie caught his eye and wouldn't let go. “Which is all really awesome. But Wendy is not some rich bimbo who spends her millions on shoes and hundred-dollar salads.”

  “I know.” But did he? Did he really know anything about Wendy? Did they? Or did Wendy simply let them see the version of Wendy she felt like playing at any given moment?

  “Do you?” Katie shot back. “Because you don't act like it.”

  “Katie ...” But he had nothin'.

  “Do you know,” she asked, “what she's doing with all her Palm Leaf money? She's set up a charity for women scarred by domestic violence. She's got a whole foundation to help women who've been cut or burned or broken or physically damaged by some guy. And she puts a lot of time into it. And it takes a lot out of her.”

  Colin blinked. “I can imagine. Never mind. I don't have to. I know it's hard to deal with other people's pain.”

  “Yeah?” Katie challenged. “Then remember that next time you're about to lay into her.”

  Colin nodded and moved to leave the study. Katie stepped aside and let him go. The second Colin was out the door, he made a bee-line for Matteo's room upstairs. He really didn't want another flogging. He deserved them all, sure. But what was he supposed to do about it now? Everyone needed to leave him alone.

  As Colin took the stairs two at a time, he heard Matteo in the kitchen playing speed chess with Arlen. Practically diving into Matteo's room, he shut the door and slumped onto the race car bed. The kid had made it abundantly clear that Colin was a guest and got the bed. Matteo would sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor. For now, Colin had a second to himself.

  He thought he'd feel elated at the respite from all the scolding, but lying in Matteo's bed just made him feel sad. The kid was thirteen and couldn't give up his race car bed. The bed that Rachel had sat on to kiss him good-night. She'd probably run her fingers through his hair, swiping it off his forehead. Matteo would never get over losing his mom. And Colin understood wanting to keep the physical connections to a feeling that was gone forever.

  So Matteo hung on to his bed. Lola had told Colin all about it, how she and Arlen didn't want to rush the kid. How they would never—

  The door burst open and Lola hurried in.

  She came right up to Colin and knelt down to be eye level with him. “Listen to me,” she whispered. “I know what you're doing. You're trying to protect me from that harpy diva Wendy Hunter. But cut it out. NOW. She's not a harpy or a diva. She's the reason we have the kids, Colin. She's the reason.”

  Lola leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek, and disappeared.

  What?

  For the next hour, Colin lay stretched out—well, almost stretched out—in Matteo's bed. And the pieces fell into place, making his heart race and his breath hitch.

  “Hey, Uncle Colin.” Matteo swooshed into the room, barely even pausing on his way to brush his teeth. Within five minutes, the kid was snuggled into the huge sleeping bag that scrunched-up Colin was totally coveting.

  “Uncle Colin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You shouldn't be so mean to Wendy.”

  “I know,” he said. “Sorry if I upset you.”

  “It's not that,” Matteo rushed to say. “But everyone's gonna know you like her if you keep being mean. You have to be more chill, Uncle Colin. You have to be more chill.”

  * * * * *

  Wendy wasn't even going to try to get to sleep. What would be the point? She would be lying awake in bed—in a great big empty bed—thinking about Colin. Colin and the night in the hotel.

  Maybe he wouldn't have said or done anything to ruin the feeling that night. Then perhaps they could have shared a delicious secret.

  But no. Wendy had lashed out. And now Colin hated her so much that he couldn't keep it together for the sake of Lola and the kids.

  Wendy walked into her woman cave and flopped onto the pearly couch. She wore flannel pajamas but still, she pulled the cashmere throw around her. Should she watch some comfort movie? Maybe Legally Blonde or Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. No—definitely not Mr. Deeds. Too much about love and betrayal. And about falling for someone even after all the damage they'd caused.

  Wendy's phone pinged.

  What the what? It was one in the morning, for Pete's sake!

  Before looking at the phone, Wendy closed her eyes to pray it wasn't a drunken rant from Sketch Lavelle or anyone else she'd “gone out with” for the benefit of the tabloids. So many of those guys thought she was so perfect to talk to. Whenever. About whatever. Sheesh.

  With one eye closed, Wendy peeked at the screen. Lola: Please meet me in my office. I know it's late, but we have to talk. Befo
re you get here tomorrow.

  Wendy looked at the message. The party was going on all weekend, but Wendy had been reconsidering making another appearance tomorrow.

  Was Lola going to apologize for Colin? Try to explain away his behavior? Ha! Lola had no clue what was setting off her brother. But if Lola needed to explain, letting her do it might be a good thing. At least then she wouldn't brood about her little brother and possibly stumble onto the truth.

  Wendy: Okay. I'll be there in twenty.

  Forty minutes later, Wendy breezed past Ray's empty desk and into Lola's office. Lola's head was down on the desk and all Wendy could see was a tuft of blonde hair surrounded by folded arms clad in a sports-gray long-sleeved T-shirt.

  “Lola?” she said.

  “Wendy?” The head popped up and two bright blue eyes seared into her.

  “Whoa!” Wendy jumped back across the room.

  Colin Scott. Not Lola.

  No. No no no. She could NOT be alone in the same room as Colin Scott. Especially not in the middle of the night.

  “Sorry,” he said, getting up from the desk and coming around to her. But he stopped before he was close enough to touch her. “I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

  “Colin! What are you doing? Where's Lola?”

  “At home in bed,” he answered. “Where else would she be? It's two in the morning.”

  Wendy clenched her jaw. “You got her to get me here? Why?”

  “No, I didn't get her to get you here,” he said, sounding all offended. “I don't need my big sister to fight my battles, thanks. She doesn't know anything about this.”

  Wendy tried to get her erratic breathing under control. “So you came here to fight with me?”

  “What? No. Sorry. Just an expression. No ... I, uh, stole Lola's phone and texted you.”

  Wendy narrowed her eyes at him. “You stole her phone? Lola is never without her phone.”

  “Nuh-uh,” Colin said. “The whole family lines up all their devices in the study at night and they charge everything all at once. I'm pretty sure it's also Lola and Arlen's way of making sure the kids aren't plugged in and online all night. So, I snatched her phone.”