“Because you never call me when I’m with a client, even if I tell you to.”
“I was just checking to see if she canceled. You were so sure she would.”
“I was.” Lexi’s tone took on a disgusted edge. “But then the fiancé found out that Jax Chamberlin, stuntman, and Bentley Chamberlin, movie star, were one and the same. Then insisted they keep the appointment. Believe me, this is not a business dinner. It’s an I-love-Bentley dinner. Jax has been kicking me under the table for half an hour.”
Rubi forced a chuckle at the secret sign Jax had developed for letting Lexi know it was time to leave one of the many dinners, cocktail parties, brunches, and business meetings they attended. “Ah well. You two have fun with that. I’ll catch you tomorrow maybe.”
She disconnected and set the old-fashioned phone in its cradle. Picked it up. Put it down. Picked it up.
“Fuck.” And slammed it down.
When she turned back to the boxes, anxiety gushed through her system. Overwhelmed. She was simply overwhelmed. Her mind overtaxed with stress and confusion. Her body overtaxed with pain and loneliness. All her own fault. Which only led her to her recent discovery that she hated who she was. Hated who she’d let herself become.
She needed a release valve before she exploded.
Rubi poured another glass of wine but slammed the bottle on the nightstand. She didn’t want any more wine. She wanted out. Out of her body. Out of her head. Out of her heart.
Rubi finished dressing and applying makeup by avoiding direct eye contact with herself in the mirror in the bathroom. Made it through the drive to the club by hammering the latest club mixes through the Aston’s incredible speakers. Even managed to get from her car to Stilettos’ front doors by responding to the friendly, even excited welcome from acquaintances outside the club.
But once she’d slipped in the door, she was swallowed by the darkness, buffers and support gone. Rubi stepped aside and surveyed the space. Everything was the same. Exactly the same. The people, the dress, the music, the furniture, the bars. All the same. Yet the zing of adrenaline she’d always experienced simply stepping in the door was absent. Her desire to mingle and chat, nonexistent. She searched for familiar faces, someone comfortable to ease her back into the scene, and spotted Roméo working the bar.
Okay, that could work.
So why couldn’t she move toward him? Why wouldn’t her feet move from this spot? And why did she feel like she wanted to puke?
Rubi leaned her shoulder against a wall and crossed her arms. Katy Perry’s “Roar” pounded through the club, but Rubi experienced no desire to move to the beat. No rush of anticipation for the night ahead. Friends waved her over from their seats at the bar, and Roméo flashed her a grin and lifted the liquor bottle from which he’d been pouring, toward her in greeting.
Still, she didn’t move forward.
This wasn’t where she wanted to be. Or who she wanted to be with.
This was all wrong.
Thirty-One
When Wes came out of the Renegades’ bathroom after a quick shower, Courtney Marshall was already waiting for him. He’d never seen her, only spoken with her on the phone, and she wasn’t what he’d expected. She was far younger than he’d guessed from her voice, maybe early twenties. Blonde and pretty, and dressed down in jeans and a light sweater, both of which hugged well-proportioned curves.
She turned from all the attention the other Renegades were showering on her and smiled. “You must be Wes.”
“Uh, yeah.” He ran one hand through his hair and reached to take her extended hand with the other. “Sorry, just cleaning up.”
“Great. Ready to go?”
“Let’s talk outside a second.”
“Hey,” Troy said. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Courtney, the guys,” he said, glaring at Troy. “Guys, Courtney. Let’s go.”
“We know her name, dorkweed,” Keaton threw in. “How about a relation? Friend? Date?” He paused. “Girlfriend?”
Thank God she hadn’t told them why she was here. “None of your business.”
She said her good-byes to the crew, and Wes held the door open for her but didn’t miss the scowl Rachel leveled on him on the way out. He followed Courtney down the steps, calling himself all kinds of stupid for the nerves making him awkward.
With his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans, he glanced around, making sure no one was nearby. “So, I’m not real good at this. What’s the plan?”
She grinned and flipped her sleek cut off her forehead. “I take you to lunch, and we talk.” She slipped her arm through his and tugged him toward the parking lot. “We’ll go from there.”
He glanced down at his jeans, frayed threadbare in too many places to be decent. “I didn’t expect you to call this morning, so I’m not exactly prepared for—”
“I was thinking casual,” she said, perky, relaxed. “How does Casey’s sound?”
Rubi parked along the street in front of the Renegades set location for the day—a steel scrapyard in an industrial area of the city. She spotted the Renegades trailer alongside a warehouse where film crews, cameras, and lights had been set up. She also spotted Wes’s truck parked several cars up from hers.
Rubi pulled off her sunglasses and pressed a hand to the tight ache in her chest. She could do this. If he rejected her, he rejected her. She’d know it wasn’t meant to be. But she had to try.
She picked up the present in the passenger’s seat and stood from her car, smoothing her skirt—one of Wes’s favorites. On a deep breath, she started up the sidewalk. A few wolf whistles sounded from the industrial buildings near the site still in use, but she ignored them. She glanced at Wes’s truck as she passed, not sure what she was looking for, but found no real changes. No panties hanging from the rearview. A good sign, right?
Crossing her arms, Rubi continued toward the action and scoured the site, but found no sign of Wes. She heard laughter from the Renegades trailer before she was within a hundred feet. The sound hit her with a bittersweet sensation. She’d missed the guys. Missed the flurry of energy and activity that hovered in and around the trailer like a beehive. But most of all, she missed Wes. Missed his laugh. Missed his humor. Missed his love.
“I can do this.”
She took the stairs and opened the door. Before she’d stepped in, everyone went silent. Their shocked gazes held on her for an extra second, then darted to each other with concern.
“Gee, good to see you too, guys.”
Troy pushed out of the sofa and took one giant step, crossing the trailer. He pulled her off her feet in a bear hug. “Where the f**k you been, Russo? Just ’cause Lawson’s a prick doesn’t mean you can’t come see the rest of us.”
“Troy,” she said, voice strained, “you’re cutting off my air.”
“Wuss,” he said, setting her down.
Someone’s phone rang, and Jax, somewhere behind Troy, said, “Yeah? Be right there.” He stood. “Ready on set.”
Troy ruffled Rubi’s hair like an annoying brother. She swatted at his hands. “Hey.”
“That’s for staying gone so long.” He kissed her head on the way out the door. “Don’t do it again.”
Duke gave her a high five on the way out. Keaton followed with “Don’t be a stranger. We like you more than Lawson.”
Jax stopped in front of her, his eyes narrowed in concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” No. They all obviously knew her relationship with Wes was over. He obviously wasn’t keeping it a secret. Evidently no second thoughts. Which pissed her off when that was all she’d had since she left his parents’ house. “Is Wes around?”
“Uh…no.” He cast a slow glance over his shoulder at Rachel. “Did he say when he’d be back?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“No problem.” Rubi waved away the obvious tension. “I’ll catch him later.”
Jax nodded, offered a strained smile, then passed. On his way out the door, he turned back. “Lexi and I are home tonight. Come over for dinner?”
“You bet.”
He smiled before turning away and closing the door behind him.
Rubi closed her eyes and exhaled. Opening her eyes on Rachel, she said, “What the f**k just happened?”
Rachel scrambled from behind her desk, crossed the trailer, and peeked out the blinds. Then turned a furious gaze on Rubi. “Wes just left for lunch with some chick.”
That news stunned her silent. And dumb.
“What…chick?” she finally managed.
“I don’t know. None of the guys knew her. Courtney Marshall?”
Rubi shook her head, her stomach sinking. “I don’t know who that is. Was it, like…a date?”
“I don’t know. But I eavesdropped through the window because he wouldn’t talk to her in here. They’re going to Casey’s for lunch. You know, Casey’s Irish Pub on South Grand.”
“Yeah,” she said, dazed, “I know it.”
“Did you guys really break up?”
Her gaze returned to Rachel’s. Her big brown eyes were worried, soft with compassion. “I…don’t even know if we were really ever together.”
Rachel grabbed Rubi’s arms and shook her. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“All your spunk is gone. This isn’t the Rubi I know. This isn’t the Rubi Wes loves.”
“We both know you can do anything you put that wicked mind of yours to.”
His words to her at the airport hit her. “Yeah. You’re right.” She turned and opened the door. “I’ve got to go.”
Wes sucked down the second half of his beer as they waited for their lunch order. One he wasn’t going to be able to eat given the roiling state of his gut. His knee bounced beneath the table. He glanced around before he set his gaze back on Courtney’s. She was so calm. So cool. Almost predatory.
“So,” he said, “this can be completely confidential, right?”
“Completely,” she assured him.
Wes cleared his throat. Licked his lips. “What kind of money are we talking about?”
For the third time since they sat down, Courtney tried to pull the contract from her briefcase.
“No.” Wes put out a hand to stop her. “I don’t want to see it. I’ve hired someone to look it over. I just want to talk.”
“Okay,” she said on an exhale as if her patience was waning. “I don’t have anything definite yet, but I have three different companies interested. I’d be working this contract as an agent, since none of Russo Industries are equipped to manufacture the rig. You would get fifty percent of the licensing payment and two percent royalties on the retail cost of the rig for every sale.”
“Uh-huh.” He wished he had more time. Wished he could take the money from this deal to do what he really wanted to do—buy that house for Rubi. But he didn’t. This was all he could think of in the short amount of time he had left to work with. “Numbers?”
“It’s really premature to be—”
“Ballpark me.”
Another irritated clamp of her lips. Another heavy exhale. “You can’t hold me to any of these numbers. Things change—”
“I understand.”
“Ballpark thirty million for the license and about a hundred dollars for every sale. With the market for the rig, we estimate your take to be two to three million for the first five years.”
Wes felt like he’d missed the airbag from a sixty-foot fall. He didn’t want to look like an idiot, so he lowered his gaze to the table and scraped both hands through his hair, forcing himself to breathe.
“Look,” Courtney said, sitting forward. “Like I said, it’s just a guesstimate. I generally err on the low side because I’d rather you be pleasantly surprised when I get more than expected. Because this invention is so unique and so high tech, Dolph may be willing to raise the royalty to three percent, but…” Courtney shook her head. “With that nonnegotiable stipulation you’ve made on selling his house to Rubi, his flexibility might be iffy.”
Whatever. He waved his fingers. “Okay, let me have it. I’ll have someone look it over and get back to you tomorrow.”
A little grin curved her mouth. One he didn’t like.
He looked down at the slab of paper she set on the table between them. Christ, it had to be half an inch thick. When he glanced up again, movement at the door drew his gaze. Rubi pulled one of the glass doors open.
His first response was visceral—his gut flipped on itself and twisted. His heart added a few beats to the rhythm. Then reality hit. He flashed hot. Then cold. His mind spinning what-the-fucks upside down and sideways.
“Shit.” He pulled the contract into his lap.
Courtney glanced over her shoulder, then back at Wes. “I’ve never met her. She won’t know me.”
No, she’d just see him with another woman. Or she’d talked to her father and already knew what he had planned and was here to crush his balls.
But then she stopped halfway in the door and turned around. But she didn’t leave. She just stood there with her back to the door, arms crossed. Turned again, shook her hair back, and opened the door.
“What is she doing?” Courtney started, trailing off when Rubi scoured the restaurant and her gaze landed on them. “All right, I’ll run with however you want to play this.”