“I couldn’t ask you to—”
“I won’t hide you from him. Just stay a few days. Get your head together. Figure out what to do next.”
Cassie studied Melanie. “Why would you help me? Besides a disastrous shopping excursion, we’re total strangers.”
Melanie looked at her with knowing eyes. “I was you four years ago, Cassie. I came to Hollywood to be a star. I wasn’t interested in the casting couch musical chairs. Though I had looks, I found out I really couldn’t act. I had no interest in modeling and the money ran out fast.”
Melanie sighed. “That’s when I met Ken. He loves swap meets. He looks for LP jazz records and old books and scripts.” She laughed. “You should see his get-up—a ratty wig, fake yellow dentures, torn T-shirt, and ancient boots. I was there selling everything I owned so I could travel light to wherever I wound up. I had over twenty old jazz albums. Etta James and Bird Parker. Stuff from my granddaddy’s collection. It was the only thing of value left and as much as it hurt, I needed to sell it to survive.
“I met Ken that day. He changed my life. He bought everything. I won’t bore you with the details but I know what it’s like to be hungry. Alone. Lost.
“Please. Let me help you.”
Cassie knew she was at a point where she had no pride left. Money would evaporate in the blink of an eye. Friends were almost nonexistent. Without Rhett and Jolene, she really had no one.
She looked steadily at Melanie. “I’ll take you up on your generous offer but I resolve only to stay until I can figure out where to go and what to do.”
At that moment, her Uber pulled up. Melanie held a hand up. “I’ll get it.” She walked over and leaned down to talk to the driver, passing him a wad of bills. The car pulled away.
“Let’s go.” Melanie took the suitcase, while Cassie picked up TJ’s carrier.
She made a weak attempt at humor. “I hope no one’s allergic to cats in the Cameron household.”
Melanie grinned. “Just Ken. No big deal.”
Cassie groaned. “I can see Ken reporting to the Crime Time set Monday morning with swollen eyes and sneezing his head off. Why don’t I board TJ for a couple of days? I don’t want to be responsible for ruining two of Hollywood’s leading men in a single day.”
“Don’t worry. TJ can have the pool house. Ken’s never out there. In fact, it would be perfect for you and give you some privacy. I’ll have my cook stock the fridge for you. Stay as long as you want.”
Cassie swallowed and blinked back tears of appreciation. “I can’t thank you enough, Melanie.”
“You can pay it forward someday, Cassie. That’s what I’m doing now.”
◆◆◆
Rhett returned home from lunch with Becky and Irv. He was glad they’d nailed down the auto deal and felt pleased with the salary he’d receive. Rhett decided to donate the proceeds from the commercials to breast cancer research. He knew little about any kind of cancer before Carreen was diagnosed. He’d learned lots since, including the disproportionate amount of research money that went to finding a cure for other diseases. Cancer affected Americans in every walk of life—all ages, genders, and races—and he wanted more money designated to ending this horrible disease.
His excitement grew as he thought about the charity event and new foundation Cassie planned that would go a long way in providing funding for cancer research. Rhett refused to lend his celebrity to endorse political candidates but his fame could be used for good. He remembered Michael J. Fox testified on Capitol Hill to win big bucks for Parkinson’s research. Maybe he could do the same for breast cancer treatments or even disadvantaged women receiving free mammograms.
Rhett went to the kitchen to get a drink and asked Mimi, “Have you seen Cassie today? I thought I might ask her to dinner tonight.”
The cook told him, “She told me she had plans this evening.”
A flare of disappointment shot through Rhett. At least he told himself it was that—and not jealousy. He enjoyed having Cassie around, not merely to bounce ideas around but to talk to. She was sharp as a tack, well read, and was a huge trivia buff on movies from the 1940s to the present. Every conversation had piqued his interest and he found himself learning something new.
He grinned, knowing how she put him in his place. Cassie Carroll would never let his ego get the better of him.
Rhett realized how, in a short time, Cassie pushed him to be his best—from their early morning runs to his career, she challenged him to attain a level of excellence.
He knew he’d been coasting through life, first as a model and then action star. He’d also slid through relationships with women. Being around Cassie, though, made him want to be a better man, a better actor, and a better friend. It hit him that Cassie was the kind of woman he wanted to settle down with. Share his life. Raise a family. Cassie wouldn’t let him get away with any shit—and he liked that.
In an instant, Rhett realized that he wanted to be with this one woman. Make a commitment to her. Start a life together without waiting another moment.
Randi would be home in a couple of days but Rhett couldn’t wait that long. He would jump on a plane and end things with Randi tonight. Get his key back. Change the gate and alarm codes. Start over.
With Cassie.
Rhett pulled out his phone and booked the trip that would change his life. He’d be back early tomorrow morning by taking the red eye—and begin a new, better life with Cassie in it.
His passport stayed in his glove compartment and he didn’t need any luggage. He looked at Mimi.
“Something’s come up. I’ve got to miss dinner tonight but I want you to keep the plans intact. It’ll be a nice night out for the Whittakers, away from their kids, and they can screen the movie after dinner.” Of course thinking about it, he realized Jolene would be entertainment enough.
Rhett had enough time to make it to LAX and grab a paperback for the flight. Maybe Stuart Woods or Harlan Coben had something new out.
Traffic wasn’t bad for a Saturday afternoon. He made decent time, blaring Tom Petty’s Greatest Hits and singing along since he was in such a good mood.
After parking, he picked up a book, a pack of gum, and a bottled water. He left his ballcap and aviator glasses on as he walked down the terminal to the security checkpoint. He was glad since 9/11 that the paparazzi couldn’t hang out in the gate area. He hated being ambushed after a long flight.
Despite his attempt at a low profile, two people in line recognized him. Rhett declined to selfie but gave both an autograph. Then he saw Ramon La Pearl approaching, camera in hand, cell phone pressed to his ear. The sleazebag must live at the airport. Rhett knew he couldn’t avoid him.
“Rhett Corrigan!” the photographer boomed as he pocketed his cell phone. Heads immediately turned in Rhett’s direction as the line shuffled forward.
“Care to make any comment?” La Pearl called out as he snapped Rhett’s picture.
Rhett shook his head and pulled out his passport. Three more people and he would clear the area.
“Why are you breaking up with Randal James, Corrigan? She’s a hottie with a lottie. And who’s the copper-headed ponytail chick? She doesn’t look like your usual type.”