Rush to the Altar. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ this article I know exactly where I’m headed after I leave the hospital. You must have been inspired to bring it to me.”

      “For years now I’ve been aware you wanted to pursue your own career, but you couldn’t do anything about it while your father needed you so badly.”

      If Bart knew that, then he knew a lot more than Riley had given him credit for.

      “I also happen to know the only reason you worked as a Hollywood stuntman for the last year was to make some fast, big bucks to pay off the bills he left owing.

      “Now that you’ve accomplished your objective, I’m anxious to find out what you’re going to do with the rest of your life. I figured the news about Luca Danelli would get your mind thinking. As I recall, Italy always did feel like home to you.”

      Riley nodded. “It was home to me for many years. Now I’ve got another reason to go back.” There was one more debt to pay…

      He eyed the other man for a long moment. “Dad said you were the best friend a man ever had. He knew what he was talking about. Thanks for being here for me, Bart.”

      The burly older man’s eyes watered. “I never had a wife or family. You kind of filled that spot, you know?” he said in a strangely gruff voice.

      “Until Mitra straightened me out, I thought you were my uncle.”

      When they’d both had a good laugh, Riley levered himself from the bed to give him a bear hug. “I promise to keep in touch with you.”

      “That’s all I needed to hear.”

      “You didn’t like any of the scripts I had sent over?” D.L. thundered.

      Annabelle Lassiter, known to her family and closest friends as Ann, met her agent’s incredulous gaze across the lunch table at Pierre’s without flinching. “I’m sorry, D.L., but I don’t want to be typecast, and I don’t happen to think any of these scripts are worth the paper they’re printed on.”

      His thick red brows bumped together. “Listen to me—if you want to make a real name for yourself in this town, you’d better stop being so choosy. You may be a long-legged, classy looking blonde with a load of natural talent, but one successful film with Cory Sieverts doesn’t guarantee a lifetime of work. You have to pay your dues, honey.”

      “I’m aware of that, but I refuse to act in a film aimed at sex-obsessed eighteen-year-old boys. That’s all these are.” She stared pointedly at the four scripts she’d put on the table.

      “That’s what’s selling these days!”

      “It’s disgusting, D.L. I want something meaty like an Anne of a Thousand Days.”

      He pursed his lips. “A plum like that only comes along once in a decade. Even then those historical films don’t always bring in the big bucks for the studios. You need to keep in mind you’re already twenty-eight years old, that’s over the hill for an actress.”

      “Thank you very much.”

      She knew it was true, but like any woman with red blood in her veins, she hated to hear it.

      “I’m your agent. You pay me to tell you things like that for your own good. In your case you have to keep your name and gorgeous face before the public on a continual basis or it’s curtains for you.”

      Maybe it was…

      “Perhaps I should move to England and try to get work in the theater.” It had been Colin Grime’s idea. Their long distance romance was difficult with him based in London and her in L.A.

      D.L. looked scandalized. “You’d be a fool to do that when you already have a foot and a leg in the door here. Before you ruin what we’ve already got going for you, I have something else to tell you about. It’s still in the works, but I can guarantee you a part.”

      “What is it?”

      “A couple of writer friends of mine have been kicking around the idea of a survivor movie. It’s strictly hush-hush at the moment. You’d be perfect for one of the older female roles.

      “All I have to do is let them know you’re interested. It’ll be the biggest box office hit of the season. At that point you’ll receive the kind of attention that will allow you to pick more of the type of projects you want.”

      “Thanks, but no thanks, D.L. That’s not the kind of acting I’ve dreamed of doing since I was a teen. If you want to know the truth, I’d be ashamed to show my face in anything so crass.”

      His eyes squinted at her. “What happened to the woman who was one of those television contestants on, Who Wants to Marry a Billionaire? And what about that Hollywood benefit you were in, Who Wants to Marry a Prince? The one your twin sister had to make good on instead of you? You want to talk crass?” he bellowed.

      Trust D.L. to hit her where it hurt most.

      “I admit there was a time when I was so desperate to get noticed by a Hollywood mogul I’d do just about anything, but I’ve changed since then.”

      “You’ve changed all right.” He got up and tossed three twenty dollar bills on the table. He was furious. “When you’re down to counting pennies again, don’t phone me.”

      “D.L.?” she called to him before he’d stalked away with the rejected scripts. “I appreciate everything you’ve done to help build my career. Please don’t be so angry that you write me off prematurely.”

      He eyed her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “I had you figured for someone a lot hungrier.”

      “You mean you thought I was capable of selling my soul.” Pain shot through her. “It hurts to realize I gave you that impression. I have only myself to blame.”

      “You’re damn right about that! When I get back to my office there’ll be at minimum forty calls my secretary has taken since nine this morning from two-bit actresses who’d walk through fire to be in your position right now.”

      “I know.” Once upon a time she’d been one of them. “Thank you for the delicious lunch. I’ll pay next time.”

      “There may not be one.”

      “All I’m asking for is a decent script!”

      “Don’t hold your breath,” he muttered before skirting the tables to make his exit.

      As soon as he was gone, a dejected Ann left the restaurant and headed for her condo only a couple of miles away. After letting herself inside, she dashed to the kitchen to call her sister. But the red blinking light on the phone prompted her to listen to her messages first.

      “Ann?”

      It was Colin.

      “How come you haven’t been returning my calls? What’s going on? I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. Phone me, otherwise I’m getting on a plane to L.A. to find out what’s wrong!”

      He didn’t bang down the receiver, but she sensed he’d wanted to. She couldn’t deal with him СКАЧАТЬ