THIRTY
BAMBI NEVER WANTED to be an actress. Not even when she was a little kid did she dream of fame and fortune. It had never been part of her repertoire to stand up in front of people as the center of attention. She didn’t necessarily shy away from public speaking, though it wasn’t like she had much experience.
With Chic, it didn’t matter. The guy was nice and polite but was either so bored with his job he ignored the client to save himself from small talk drudgery, or so full of himself that he didn’t think the client deserved any input. Maybe she wasn’t famous enough for him.
She wouldn’t lose any sleep over not being his best friend.
Just like before she went along with everything and was told there was a car waiting in the driveway. Down she went, without excitement or anticipation, regardless of their exclusive destination. The driver opened the door and she slipped inside the empty vehicle.
No, she didn’t want to wait around, especially with her shoes pinching her feet, but she’d rather sit there in a vacant space than be faced with Roman.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t a future she could put off forever. Quicker than expected, the door opened again and Roman got in. His loose expression quickly became a scowl. She couldn’t bring herself to care, not that she didn’t care in a bitchy way, it would just be hypocritical to engage him like she didn’t feel exactly the same way toward him. Yes, she’d rather he was his brother and wouldn’t deny it.
Maybe that’s how Struan felt his whole life, that wherever he was, people would rather he be his high-profile brother. Anyone who knew the men’s personalities would have to prefer the stuntman to the superstar. Hands down.
They’d been driving a while before he opened his mouth. “You’re not going to say anything to me?” he asked with an expectation that put her on the spot.
“What would you like me to say?”
They both knew the truth and didn’t have to make this out to be anything other than it was while they were alone.
“We’re going to a premiere. This is a big deal for someone like you.”
“A mere mortal? A small-town girl? A simpleton? Can’t call me a bimbo, my rack isn’t big enough.” She resisted spitting in disgust. Just what did he think of her? Actually, she’d be surprised if he thought of her at all. “If this is for my benefit, we don’t have to go.”
Though she couldn’t believe he’d do something generous of his own free will.
“We need the pictures. It’s been too long.”
Ah, the ulterior motive. Too long since they’d showed up as a couple, or since he’d been at something like this? Wasn’t likely this was about their relationship at all. Good PR was what he needed, and showing up with her at least changed the conversation. Why was his name being whispered again? Oh, yeah, she remembered…
“I can’t help that you threw a fit at work the other day. That’s on you. Maybe keep your pistol holstered next time, quickdraw.”
The words came out and in the same beat, she couldn’t believe her own audacity. Hadn’t she already decided to sit quietly and let him be, rather than provoke him into any kind of mood?
“You don’t know anything,” he said. “You don’t know what happened.”
Was violence ever the answer? “You’re on the defensive. Tells me all I need to know.”
“Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?”
“Your fiancée,” she said and actually flashed a smile. “Hard as it is to believe I don’t wish bad things for you. I don’t know why you’re so angry or why you’re on this crusade of self-destruction. You mean something to people I care about, that means something to me.”
“Struan,” he said and shook his head, “you have no idea.”
Maybe she didn’t, but given his history of paying attention to others, or lack thereof, she wasn’t sure Roman was much more in the know.
“Why do you do it? Why do you push people?”
“Guy like me has to know who’s real and who’s not. If someone disrespects me, I disrespect them back.”
“Don’t you see that most of the time you’re the instigator. You’re hurting people before they can hurt you.”
“I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me.”
“Okay, then we can sit here quietly.”
And they did for another few minutes.
“Struan would do anything for me,” he said, apparently unable to contain himself. “Anything at all. I don’t even have to ask and he’s there at my back. He’s never fucked up like this before.”
“And that’s upset you? Are you upset that it wasn’t actually a fuck up at all? He just made a decision for himself for once. One time. You haven’t cut him any slack. We didn’t know we were being recorded, and he didn’t tell me who he was. He kept your secret, had your back. You have to see he loves you.”
“You don’t know anything about the pressure on me. The pressure I live with every day. Every person in our lives relies on me. And if I can’t rely on him—”
“You can. You can rely on him.”
“Yeah, and how is this going to play out? You going to stick around and marry me?”
There was a question with an obvious answer. For the first time, it came from the lips of the relevant party: her fiancé. How far would the ruse go? At what point would it end? And what would be left? Maybe Roman was more astute than they’d given him credit for. They’d all known this would have to come to some sort of climax, what would it look like?
Roman was afraid. That’s what the anger was: fear. Without answers, they all lived with a dose of that.
The car slowed. “Get ready to smile.”
A mass of people outside, bright and glowing and beautiful, stole every other concern from her life.
“I’ve never done this before,” she said.
He threaded their fingers together. “Just smile. Stand with me a minute, then I’ll walk you off to the side. Wait there. They’ll take a few more pics, and then we go inside.”
Wow, so the guy could be patient when he wanted to be. She’d never heard him be so… gentle.
The door opened to a hail of intrusive sound; a melee of madness waited to consume her. No going back now. She filled her lungs and widened her lips. Thank God she wasn’t the star; that didn’t mean no one would be looking at her.
They were doing this together.
If she’d thought the day outside her apartment, when Magnus came to get her, was a frenzy, that was nothing to what felt like thousands of people there, crammed behind barriers and security guards. Fans screamed for autographs, flashes went off, and reporters held outstretched microphones and smart devices toward them.
People screamed for Roman.
Really screamed.
Fans and reporters alike.
He was kind enough to slow and sign a few autographs. Then he took her hand again, and just as he’d said, they went to stand in the gallery. Putting an arm around her waist, he held her other hand loose in front of them.
She wanted to believe the contact was his way of reassuring her, reminding her he was there with her, supporting her. Yet the slight moves this way and that to improve the angle for the paps painted a different picture.
Although it was probably less than a minute, it felt like a lifetime. Not soon enough, he led her to the other side, near the door, and returned for a few solo pictures. If the presses wanted to go with the latter shots, she’d be happy for that. More than happy. Elated.
He came back and scooped her in at his side. Thinking it was over, she was ready to exhale and relax.
Except rather than go inside, he walked them straight over to a pool of reporters, heading for one woman in particular.
“Roman! Oh, wow, you look fantastic.”
“You too, Cassie, how you been?”
The woman blushed, not that it mattered, the guy holding a camera over the woman’s shoulder was more interested in them than his colleague.
This was bad. Oh, so bad. All she could do was hold her smile in place. Smile. Smile. Smile. Everything would be okay.
“Me? What about you? Wow, the Pacific agrees with you, Mr. Lowe. How did you ever tear yourself away?”
“Well, you know.” With a hand on Bambi’s hip, he gave her a shake like maybe she was somehow involved in that decision. And why would that be? Because he couldn’t keep away from her or because she was the jealous nag back at home telling him to put down the silicone boobs in bikinis? “Duty called.”
“Yes, Undercover Ops , we’re all so excited to see you in action. How is the set?”
“Full of great people. This is going to be a smash. You’ll love it!”
“And love…” Cassie said, still smiling as she gave Bambi the once-over. “You fell fast.”
“When it’s right, you know it.” Another shake. Oh, no, this wasn’t going well, what was he doing? “She’s the love of my life.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet.”
Yeah, except—his hand slid onto her face, tipping it up as he came down and—she froze the moment his lips touched hers. Every atom of her being wanted to shove him away, to slap him in the face, to scream and run.
She couldn’t. Why? Struan. Except he was exactly the reason this was so wrong.
When he retreated, she still couldn’t move. Something else was said between him and the reporter. Her ears rang as he guided her past others calling his name. They continued in and up some stairs.
“Okay,” he said on a brusque exhale. “Now we find the bar.”
***
SO IT TURNED OUT that going to a premiere didn’t actually mean seeing a film. She didn’t even know what film it was, or if he was in it. They’d gone to the bar, which seemed quite full given they were supposed to be there for an event that didn’t include drinking.
She’d been sitting on a barstool for probably around twenty minutes while Roman lapped the room, ingratiating himself with everyone he believed to be important.
When her phone rang, she popped open her clutch, trying not to admit she wanted Struan to be on the other end.
“Hey, honey,” Roxie exclaimed. “You coming to the club tonight?”
“I would love to.” Bambi sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m at an event.”
“Oh, the premiere thing. We weren’t sure if Roman would stick around or just go straight out the back.”
“Is that an option?” she asked.
Roxie laughed. “Guess if you’re talking to me, you’re not sitting in a theater watching the movie?”
“Nope.” She touched the base of her wineglass. “Sitting at a bar, smiling at no one, trying to pretend it’s no big deal that my apparent fiancé has ignored me since we arrived.”
Glancing his way once, she twisted on the stool to put her back to the room and ducked her chin a little closer to her chest. “Should I be worried?”
“About what?” Roxie asked. “That people will speak to you, or someone will hit on you.”
“I think the people here are smart enough to know I’m a nobody. That’s not what I meant.” She didn’t dare lift her eyes, in case the bartender thought she wanted attention. The opposite couldn’t be truer. “He’s drinking,” she whispered. “The night Struan and I met, he was stepping in for his brother because Roman was wasted. Does the man know when to stop, or am I headed for a full-on collision?” Her friend’s lingering silence wasn’t encouraging. “Roxie?”
“I’m already dressed and Zairn is on the phone.”
What did that have to do with her question? “Okay.”
“I’ll get him in the car. You…” Roxie’s voice seemed to move. “Yes, you, Casanova, give me your hand, we’re leaving.”
Until then, Roxie had never been the type to avoid an issue.
“Have fun at the club.”
“Not going to the club, Bambi, honey. Not anymore,” Roxie said, then her voice faded a little. “We’re leaving now, Lover. We’re going to save a damsel in distress. Big night for you.”
“Rox, I don’t—”
“I’m talking to Zairn. We’re on our way. We’ll be there as quick as we can.”
With that the line died.
If they’d been invited to the premiere, or had any interest in attending, they wouldn’t have avoided the red carpet. Her friend asked about the club, suggesting there’d been no intention for them to come to the movie theater.
Roxie hadn’t answered her question explicitly about Roman’s drunkenness potentially leading to calamity. Whether it did or not, the woman had become her beacon of stability. Having Roxie at her side changed the game. She wouldn’t need to control the situation or control the man. The Lomonds were professionals in this arena. They owed Roman nothing. They wouldn’t be there to keep him out of trouble. They’d be there to make sure that trouble didn’t hurt her.
Once again, she was awestruck, humbled.
Calling Struan for support wasn’t an option. He’d come if she did, but that would be disastrous. On a good day, that would be disastrous, if her guy had seen the kiss… Oh, please say he hadn’t seen the kiss.
If it wasn’t for Roxie, she’d be on her own dealing with whatever nightmare Roman dragged them into. Even Magnus showing up might raise suspicion, it would suggest she expected Roman required handling, which would then doom them to descend that path.
Roxie and Zairn, a super-hot couple who were massively popular, Mieux was right, they could show up pretty much anywhere they wanted. Having them close wouldn’t be suspicious. As to whether it would help… The support would help her; her date maybe not so much. If Roman was drunk and Roxie impatient, the fireworks may be more inevitable than before.
Only they’d potentially save Roman from embarrassing himself, her, and trashing his career. Instead, they’d feed the Hollywood Gossip Circle. In short, the Lomonds were saving her ass and Roman’s, yet, somehow, she knew the man wouldn’t show gratitude.