Star Crossed (Stargazer #1)(25)
Author: Jennifer Echols

Wendy’s blond brows knitted as she worked through what Daniel had said. “So you’ve saved two careers by putting two romances on hold.”

“I guess. But we’re not talking careers in accounting. As you know, we’re talking multimillion-dollar movie careers.”

“Still, they’re careers these stars don’t really want in their heart of hearts, right? Victor is g*y. Is it really his heart’s desire to play heterosexual hunks? Is that career worth putting off being with his soul mate?”

“He said it was.”

“Ah, and that’s where you and I approach the problem differently,” Wendy said. “You get stars what they say they want. But if it seems to me that the stars don’t genuinely want that, I say, ‘You don’t really want that.’ It’s making more work for myself, but I think my long-term results are better.”

Daniel nodded. “Unless you’re trying to convince the lead singer of Darkness Fallz to kick meth.”

Wendy glared at him. “Touché.”

“And I guess you didn’t even broach getting him to go out in public without the rubber devil costume.”

“He has an eczema problem that he’s sensitive about,” Wendy said stiffly.

“Ah. But in your world, he gets what he really wants, which is to stay on meth.”

“That’s not fair,” Wendy said.

Daniel knew it wasn’t fair, and that she was getting pissed at him. But he’d been right about his plan for Victor and Olivia, and he would make sure Wendy knew it. “In my world, maybe Olivia and Victor delay what they really want, true. But in the end, everyone lives happily ever after.”

“Until someone talks,” Wendy said. “If one florist or dog walker leaks the story to the tabloids, your stars’ careers will never recover.”

“Nobody talks,” Daniel insisted. “I made sure of that. The only people who know are the key players.”

“And me,” Wendy said.

“You won’t talk,” Daniel said. “You know how easy it would be for me to ruin you. So here’s what we’ll do. After you discuss the plan with Lorelei, we’ll sit down and coordinate her schedule with Colton’s. Make sure they’re seen together at events. Arrange some encounters that appear to be impromptu. The tabloids will start asking whether they’re back together. When the time is right, we’ll announce jointly that they are together. The public will forgive all their behavior up to now. The two of them won’t look like ill-bred young adults behaving badly anymore. They’ll look like they’ve finally learned that the ones you truly love are the ones you hurt the most. They will have moved through that dark stage in their relationship and emerged into the light on the other side. Viewers will tune in for that triumphant story on Friday night.”

Wendy stared past Daniel’s shoulder and said nothing. At first he thought she was staring into space so she could process all the information he was giving her. But as he neared the end of his plan, he got the distinct impression she was tuning him out. “Wendy,” he prompted her. “Are you listening to me?”

“No.” She grabbed the handles of the weight machine and swung herself up to standing. As she stalked away across the gym, she tossed over her shoulder at him, “You lost me when you threatened to ruin me. You and your client need to work on your lines.”

7

Wendy marched to the treadmill Daniel had vacated and took it over as her territory. She leaped onto it, set it to a higher speed than she was used to, and hoped to God he would leave soon, before she hacked up a lung.

On the other hand . . . she would miss the scenery if he left. He was so handsome slouched on a weight machine, long legs bent, biceps and muscled chest straining against his tight shirt, glaring at her. He was gorgeous when he was angry. At least, she thought he was angry. She still had a hard time telling his emotions apart, unless he was laughing.

And then he was gone, as she knew he would be. He wasn’t one to hang around and sulk, or to beg her. In a few swift steps he left the gym, tossing his balled-up towel over his shoulder and ringing the hamper with it after the door was already closing. He’d tried with her. He’d failed. He would move on to plan B for revitalizing Colton’s career. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t talk to her again while they were in Vegas. Their relationship was over.

That was fine with her. She’d agreed that telling the public Lorelei and Colton were back together would be a great way to repair their images before the awards show. Maybe the only way. She’d also agreed that if she didn’t succeed with Lorelei, her career in PR was done. But she absolutely would not let Daniel bully her.

Her anger at him pushed her through a more exhausting workout than she’d thought possible. She returned to her room, half hoping to pass him somewhere along the way so she could pointedly ignore him. After a shower—a longer shower than she intended, because she kept getting lost in little fantasies about an apologetic Daniel joining her after his own hearty workout, and making up to her for being heavy-handed—she took the elevator to the penthouse level and knocked on Lorelei’s door. The wardrobe mistress let her in, saying Lorelei was always slow to get up in the morning.

Wendy took the opportunity to step straight into the huge closet. In a whisper, she asked the wardrobe mistress to show her the outfits she’d planned for Lorelei’s next few public appearances. Wendy could work as hard as possible and drag Lorelei along with her, but all their efforts could easily be negated with one slipped bra cup and an unplanned nipple calling hello to the world. Judging from Lorelei’s past run-ins with the paparazzi, Wendy thought this was unlikely. Lorelei had done and said many stupid things in public, but none of them involved wardrobe malfunctions. If unseemly parts of her were showing in pictures, that’s because she’d taken the photos herself.

Lorelei’s clothes were beautifully made and edgy without being trashy. Wendy complimented the wardrobe mistress with the truth: “I’ve got my work cut out for me, as you know, but I’ve never worried about her wardrobe. You always make her look like a million bucks.” The wardrobe mistress replied with a brilliant smile and protestations that she only helped. Lorelei herself had a terrific eye.

And ear, Wendy thought, as the strum of an acoustic guitar and pitch-perfect humming meandered down the hall and into the closet. Lorelei was awake.

Replacing a gorgeous sequined skirt on the rack, Wendy slipped past the wardrobe mistress and tiptoed into the bedroom. Lorelei sat at the head of the bed, leaning back against the pillows, eyes closed, singing one of her mother’s hard-rocking classics. Lorelei was tall and thin, but that only added to the impression that she was young and hadn’t yet grown into her long limbs. The sun rendered her linen nightshirt and shorts translucent but not tawdry on her slender frame. She strummed the guitar. Her long fingers worked a complicated countermelody on the strings. Her high voice warbled half a lovely tune with nonsense words. Wendy was transfixed.