Hollywood Flirt - Alexa Aston Page 0,80
hired a PI to follow me when I came to LA. Sydney and I found some kind of tracking device slipped into my bag. Whoever did it knows I work here. I don’t know if The Creep believes Sydney lives here or not. She hasn’t gotten anything from him at Monty’s house.”
“Why didn’t you file a police report when you found the tracker?”
She sniffed. “And what would I say? That someone I don’t know and have never met who lives on the opposite coast might have hidden it in my bag to see if he could discover where his ex-wife had moved through my movements? The cops have way more on their plates, Dash. Yes, California has stalking laws but we don’t have any physical proof that links Wake to the tracker. Or even the flowers that have been delivered.”
“Why didn’t she tell me any of this?” Dash demanded, his anger rising.
Brenda looked at him as if he’d grown seven heads. “That was the last thing Sydney would’ve done,” she explained. “Sydney is crazy in love with you, Dash. She hadn’t told you she’d married again and that her ex had tracked her three thousand miles because she was afraid to. She didn’t know if The Creep would try to do something to hurt you.”
A sick feeling twisted his stomach. “Does he have a history of being violent? Did he ever hurt Sydney physically?”
“No, not that I know of. But the divorce happened quite a while ago—and Wake is still sending her flowers. Here. If he’s continued pursuing her after all this time, he could be obsessed. Irrational. Even dangerous. We just don’t know.”
He shook his head, still reeling from what Brenda had revealed to him—and worried sick about the woman he loved.
She grabbed his wrist and held on tightly. “That’s why she broke things off with you. It made sense to say that it was because she needed to prove herself. That she wasn’t some arm candy of yours and that you’d gotten her the job on No Regrets or that she was riding your—or even Monty’s—coattails into show business. Sydney was freaking out that somehow you’d get hurt because of her. She pushed you away to protect you—and she’s been depressed ever since. I know she’s thrived in the director’s chair, but she’s told me how lonely and unhappy her nights are.”
Dash kissed Brenda’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me. You’re right. I needed to know.”
“I better tell her that I spoke with you.”
“Not yet. Give me a little time, okay? I do want you to send her flowers for her birthday, though. The total opposite of white roses. Make the arrangement have tons of color—reds, yellows, deep purples—about as different as you can get. And no roses in it.”
“Got it.” Brenda gave him a crooked grin of approval.
“Also, don’t tell Sydney about the flowers that arrived from Wake.” When his assistant frowned, he said, “Trust me on this one,” and grudgingly extracted her promise.
Dash left the office and returned to the kitchen.
“Hey, Dash!” Herc giggled. “I ate your breakfast.”
Tim shrugged. “You didn’t come back, and Herc was hungry.”
Dash kissed the top of his brother’s head. “Thanks for doing that, Herc. It’s important not to waste food. I’m going to grab something at the studio instead.”
“We’re gonna make you a cake today, Dash,” Herc said. “Oh, wait. Was that a surprise, Tim?” His mouth turned down.
Dash ruffled Herc’s hair. “I’ll bet it’s going to be the best cake I ever ate. And you know what? Today is Sydney’s birthday, too.”
“It is? Can Sydney come eat some cake? I love Sydney. Is she back from her trip, Dash?”
He’d told Herc that Sydney had gone on a long trip that was very far away. He didn’t know how else to explain her sudden, lengthy absence. “She loves you, too, little brother. Why don’t you make a card for her?”
“Sydney would like a card. I’ll make her a card and you a card, Dash.”
“Okay, buddy.”
Dash nodded at Tim and then left the house. He climbed behind the wheel of his car and started it. As he pulled out of the driveway, he hit a button and said, “Call Rhett Corrigan.”
After three rings, Dash heard, “This better be good, DeLauria. I was about to get in the shower—with my wife.”
“Sydney’s in trouble, Rhett. Can you meet me at the studio?”
CHAPTER 25
Sydney lowered the top on her mom’s convertible. It was perfect, top-down weather—but then again, most days in LA were. She remembered