fact, I’m ready to break out and try something new. You know—flex more than my muscles.”
Irv pulled out a sheaf of papers, ignoring Rhett’s request to send him something in a new genre. “Here’s the beer deal you need to sign. You’ll shoot it in Japan a week into January. It’ll only play there but there’s an option for a few European countries that we can exercise. I’ll get the shooting details sewn up and let your assistant know,” he said pointedly.
He indicated where Rhett should sign. Rhett scrawled his name seven times.
“This’ll pull in three mill, Rhett. Piece of cake.”
They shook hands and Rhett left Irv’s office. He stopped to visit with Julie a minute.
“Like the new place, Jules?”
She smiled. “What’s not to like? Irv’s a partner in the hottest new agency in town. He gave me a twenty percent raise, which my almost sixteen-year-old son has decided should go toward a car for him. That is, if he passes his driving test. And if I can afford the insurance.”
Rhett whistled. “Kenny’s almost sixteen? Now, I know I’m getting old. He was in single digits when I signed with Irv.” He raised his eyebrows. “So, will you get him a car?”
Julie groaned. “You sound like Kenny now. All men are alike.”
He smiled. “We have to stick together. Tell him hi for me.” He looked up and saw Ray Pearce turning the corner. The man was worse than a fan on the street. He always wanted Rhett to go with him to a Lakers game or a restaurant opening or any high-profile place they could be seen at and get their picture together. Ray lived for publicity.
Julie motioned him to follow her and they took off down the hall, stepping into the breakroom.
“Stay here. I’ll head him off. Give me thirty seconds then come out of here and turn right. An unmarked door at the end of the hall will lead you out the back way.”
“I owe you, Jules.” Rhett flashed her a grin.
“You sure do. Ray Pearce is an asshole.” She smiled sweetly and walked back out.
Rhett turned and saw a tall brunette sipping from a mug. A short blonde stood at the microwave, waiting for it to beep.
“Merry Christmas, ladies.”
The brunette stepped in front of him. In a low purr, she said, “I could be the best present you ever unwrapped, Rhett.”
He laughed. “I’m on Santa’s naughty list this year. No presents for me.” He left the breakroom and followed the route Julie suggested, deciding to head down the stairs and avoid the elevator. Somehow, he took a turn too tightly and missed the step. Rhett grabbed for the handrail to keep from falling. As he grasped it in one hand, he felt his ankle turn and groaned. He righted himself and tested the ankle gingerly, sucking in his breath at the zing of pain.
“Great,” he muttered to himself. “Just a terrific day all around. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get mugged on the way to my car.”
He limped down the remaining flight of stairs, glad he was near the bottom. He hobbled through the lobby with as much dignity as he could muster. At least he’d lucked out and landed a parking place in front of the building after the earlier gas disaster.
Slipping on his Ray-Bans, he exited the building and walked slowly to the car, hoping no paparazzi hung around. He placed a hand on the hood of his car for support and stepped off the curb, circling around to the driver’s side. Before he unlocked his door, he heard a woman scream something about her dog and tires squealing. Rhett twisted around just as some clunker smacked into his prized convertible.
CHAPTER 3
Cassie squeezed her eyes closed as she plowed into the vehicle. An awful crunching noise sounded, metal grinding against metal. No airbag exploded because the car didn’t have one. She bounced off the steering wheel as her heart slammed against her ribs. The guy that had stepped out couldn’t have survived the impact. What did they call it—vehicular manslaughter? She would go to prison for the rest of her life. This would be the final nail to hammer into the Cassie Coffin. She’d taken a life and would give up her own in payment. Forcing her eyes open, her jaw dropped in amazement.
The guy was alive.
Granted, he was draped across the trunk of some foreign-looking convertible but she hadn’t crushed the life out of him. Somehow, he’d managed to spin around, quick reflexes saving