Lady With A Past

“I won’t.”

“Here.” He moved closer to her, then smiled as she nearly jumped out of her boots. “I just wanted to give your hanger back,” he explained, as if talking to a three-year-old. “I’ll leave it on the sofa here, all right?”

“Fine. Go away.”

Connor walked to the door, then paused. “You are Glitter Baby, aren’t you?” he said without turning to look at her. “Just admit that much.”

Strangely, Maxie’s eyes filled with tears. No matter how far she ran, her alter ego still haunted her. She would never be judged for her own merits; she would always be Glitter Baby.

“I’m no one special,” she said in a choked voice. “No one at all.”

Connor hesitated, then walked outside, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Connor called Morris as soon as he returned to his motel room.

“I found her,” he said without preamble.

His assistant’s voice was groggy with sleep. “Do you have any idea what time…what did you say?”

“I found her.”

“I hope this isn’t a dream,” Morris said fervently. “Texas doesn’t agree with me. They grow mosquitoes here the size of cocker spaniels. I want to go back to Los Angeles. I miss the smog.”

“Don’t get too excited. She was less than enthusiastic about the interview.”

“Less than enthusiastic? What does that mean?”

“It means she told me I was sneaky, opportunistic and underhanded. Oh, yeah…and oily.”

“Oily? That’s really low. What about the money you offered?”

“She turned it down. I was surprised, because she obviously needs some quick cash. She was talking about mortgaging her house to get through the winter.”

“Damn. There’s got to be something else we can do.”

“I’ll give it another shot tomorrow, but I’m not hopeful.”

“What’s she like?” Morris ventured. “Was it a letdown meeting her? There’s no way she could be as gorgeous in person as she is in a photograph.”

“She’s actually quite amazing,” Connor said quietly. “And no photograph could possibly do her justice.”

Morris whimpered. “You dog. You have all the luck. I mean…you actually met her! Glitter Baby. What I wouldn’t give to spend just one night with—”

“It’s late and I’m beat,” Connor said abruptly. For whatever reason, he didn’t care to hear Morris fantasize about Maxie Calhoon. “I’ll try my luck tomorrow and let you know what happens.”

“Try your luck? You mean you’re actually going to make a move on her?”

“Hell, Morris, get a grip. I meant I would talk to her about the interview. No wonder the woman disappeared. She was probably trying to get away from men like you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Connor hung up, then for reasons he couldn’t fully explain to himself, pulled out his portfolio of Glitter Baby’s photographs. He spread the pictures on his bed like an erotic quilt, studying them with intense new eyes. No man with a pulse could claim immunity to Glitter Baby’s magnetic appeal. But suddenly Connor was seeing someone else, a living, breathing soul with fears and human frailties, who was even more appealing. He knew what her husky velvet voice sounded like, and how it cracked when she got emotional. He knew how her hips moved when she walked and how her violet eyes darkened to blue fire when she lost her temper. Now she was something more than a heartbreakingly beautiful face and elegant body. She was a lady who could dress like a cowboy and look like an angel. She didn’t seek admiration, attention or approval. She loved SpaghettiOs and animals and her independence. She drove a truck, for Pete’s sake. As far as Connor knew, there wasn’t another woman of his acquaintance who drove a truck. Jags, Corvettes, Mercedes…but not a single truck. The more he knew about Maxie, the more intriguing she became. What had made her turn her back on a hugely successful career? Even more fascinating was the quiet new life she had created for herself. Obviously finances were a concern, but she seemed unwilling to lean on her former fame to ease the burden.

Connor wondered if he would have had the courage to set off alone, leaving everything and everyone he had ever known. Even when he had been forced to quit football, his godfather had been right there for him, handing him a cushy job with a sweet paycheck. Truth be told, Connor had been spoiled rotten from day one, an only child who had always had whatever he wanted almost before he asked for it. He couldn’t think of a time in his life when he’d waited for anything, much less worked for it. Football had been physically taxing, but he’d never considered it work. It had always been a game, and a game he was damn good at playing.

Connor shook his head, disturbed by the troubling stroll down memory lane. Where had all this damned introspection come from? Just because his life was easy didn’t mean it lacked meaning. He’d done meaningful shows before. He’d interviewed a Nobel Prize winner once, a fellow who had managed to clone a goat. Surely that was worthwhile? Then there was the exposé on a certain television evangelist who had sticky fingers and a roving eye. That was public service by anyone’s definition.

So why did he suddenly feel inadequate? What was it about Maxie Calhoon that prompted him to question his own values?

Again he let his gaze feast on the photographs on his bed. She was by far the most physically appealing woman on God’s green earth. And yet…it had been the unexpected things that had touched him, the small surprises. The faint dusting of freckles on her sunburnt nose. The crooked little rows of vegetables in her rabbit-occupied garden. He’d set out to find the phenomenon known as Glitter Baby and instead met Maxie Calhoon, bless her feisty little soul.

Morris had been right. Connor was incredibly lucky.

The following morning, Maxie padded around her house in her pajamas, crouching like a commando and peering through each and every window. As far as she could see, she was alone. Still, she was nursing a bad case of the jitters. If one person could find her, other people could as well. Not to mention the fact that Connor Garrett could come back any time he pleased.

Sometime during the sleepless night, paranoia had moved in. Strangely enough, Maxie had never felt paranoid when she was modeling. Crowds, reporters, autograph seekers…they were all part of the charade. It was all make-believe.

Her life now was anything but a game. Every second was precious, every second mattered. She had responsibilities to take care of now, the most pressing of which were several cows who badly needed to be milked. Boo needed to be fed and the dishes from last night were still in the sink. At noon she was expected at the bank to sign the final papers on her mortgage. She told herself she couldn’t afford to be distracted by what was probably a minor inconvenience, no matter how attractive that minor inconvenience had been.

Bolstered by her personal pep talk, she changed into her overalls and milked the cows, shared a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast with Boo, then attacked the dirty dishes. She was feeling much more optimistic when the time for her appointment at the bank neared, and the sky still had not fallen in. Obviously she’d been overreacting. Life was good, and was going to get much better once she had expenses for the long Wyoming winter covered.

She exchanged her overalls for khaki pants and a black knit top, tugged a comb through her hair and left for the bank. It was a lovely day, the gold sunlight of autumn gilding the aspen and pine forests. Maxie slipped a Garth Brooks recording into the cassette deck and sang along at the top of her voice. Oh, if only her A-list former “friends” could see her now.

Oakley’s bank was like every other establishment in town, small and personal. Maxie knew all three tellers, and smiled a friendly hello before poking her head into the bank manager’s office.

“I’m here to sign my life away, Mr. Beasley,” she said cheerfully. “Just hand me a pen and stand back.”

Mr. Beasley wasn’t smiling. He motioned for Maxie to sit in the chair opposite his desk. “There’s been a problem,” he said bluntly. “As I told you when you first filled out your papers, we run a last-minute credit check on anyone signing a mortgage loan. A lien has been placed on your property, Maxie. It’s for quite a sizeable sum, almost ten thousand dollars.”

Maxie blinked at him, stupefied. “What are you talking about? I have no debts whatsoever. I don’t even possess a credit card.”