His L.A. Cinderella

‘Mmm-hmm.’ She nodded. ‘Good.’

Looking around the room for a moment, Will folded his dark brows in thought before he took a deep breath and focused on her again. ‘I think you should stay at my place while you’re in L.A.’

Cassidy almost choked on her soup. He had a knack of doing that to her. But he couldn’t be serious! There was no way she could go and stay at his place—be under the same roof with him twenty-four-seven. They were barely managing to make civil conversation between his short sentences and her loose tongue. And now he wanted them somewhere they couldn’t escape from each other? Oh, yeah. That would help.

Then she thought about the fact he was paying for the hotel room she was in and felt guilty. Maybe if she found a computer and checked her meager bank account she could discover somewhere cheap and cheerful to stay? It didn’t need to be fancy: a bed, a door that locked, a shower, a minimal number of cockroaches…

Will continued while she blinked at him, ‘We need to spitball ideas and get to work. And we never used to stick to a nine to five, so if we’re working through the night it makes sense to be somewhere we can do that. I’ll come get you in the morning.’

Cassidy wondered if there was ever going to be a point where she got to make decisions on her own. ‘Don’t you have an office?’

‘I have one we can work in at home, yes.’

Not what she’d meant, and he knew it. ‘In the city. You can’t run an entire production company from home.’

‘I probably could. But, yes, I do have offices in the city. Still the same problem there—this makes more sense.’

It didn’t matter if it made sense. Surely he remembered that about her? But before she could even string together a thought, never mind form the words to argue it out, he was pushing to his feet. ‘While you’re not feeling well you can take a break to sleep any time you need to. I’ll come get you at nine.’

Cassidy watched him get halfway to the door before she managed to open her mouth. ‘I’m not comfortable with the idea of living in your house—or apartment—or whatever it is you have.’

‘You’ll forget that when you’ve been there a few days.’

‘Damn it, Will!’ She frowned at him when he turned round. ‘You can’t keep riding rough-shod over me like this. If I don’t want to stay in your house I don’t have to. And if it’s because you’re paying for this hotel then I can find somewhere—’

Lowering his chin, he lifted his brows with amused disbelief. ‘You think paying for this room is a problem for me?’

‘That’s not the point. Whether or not you can afford—’

Will shook his head, smiling incredulously. ‘It’s got nothing to do with money. It’s got to do with practicality. Man. I’d forgotten how stubborn you can be.’

Swallowing down another pang of hurt that he’d forgotten anything about her when she remembered everything about him, Cassidy arched a brow. ‘Pot, meet kettle. Regardless of whether or not you can afford to pay for this room, the simple fact is you shouldn’t be. I’ll pay you back whatever you’ve already forked out. I don’t want to owe you anything. This is business and we both know it. Whatever we once had doesn’t matter any more. We’re not even friends now.’

‘And blunt. That part I hadn’t forgotten.’ He lifted his chin and frowned at a random point in the air while taking a deep breath that expanded his wide chest. Then he dropped his chin and looked her straight in the eye. ‘You’re right. It is business. You have a job back home. I have a job here. So the sooner we get this done the sooner we can get back to work. If we dig in, and eat, drink and sleep this script for the next few weeks, we can nail it.’

It was all about the script; of course it was.

Will quirked his brows. ‘Well?’

‘It’s business.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Right.’ She didn’t have the energy to keep fighting with him. ‘Fine, then.’

With his mouth drawn into a thin line and a frown darkening his face, Will swung round and tugged on the door. ‘Nine o’clock.’

When the door closed behind him Cassidy blinked at it. For a brief second he’d almost looked angry. How on earth were they supposed to communicate well enough to write a script if they couldn’t even hold a conversation? She flumped further down on the pillows and put what was left of her soup on the nightstand before tugging the covers up over her shoulders. She felt cold again, she was shivery—and suddenly she had an incredible sense of loneliness to add to her feeling homesick.

Her first trip to Hollywood should be a fairytale experience. It was a dream she’d had since childhood, when the magic of movies had sucked her into the kind of imaginary worlds that had enthralled her for most of her life. Everything about it had fascinated her as she got older: the sets, the effects, the lighting, the locations, where the words the actors and actresses spoke came from. The latter had then become something she wanted to do—she wanted to put those words there. To watch a movie on a big screen and hear words she had written on a flat page spoken by an actor or actress who could add depths and nuances she might never even have thought of.

When she’d got her dream the world had become the most amazing place to her. And she’d got to share that magic with the man she loved. It had been perfect. She had been so happy.

But there was no such thing as perfect happiness. Life had taught her that. Failure had taken the sparkly-eyed wonder from her eyes. Then she’d had to give up her dreams, her confidence shattered, her heart broken, because Will had gone and she’d had no choice but to watch him walk away. The last time she had seen him was indelibly imprinted on her brain, and in the empty part of her heart that had died that day…

Cassidy had felt as if all the magic had been sucked out of her life. And she’d never got it back. Just small pockets of happiness ever since. But then that was everyone’s life, she had told herself. She just needed to get on with it. One day after another.

Even if for a very, very brief moment on her flight over she’d allowed herself to dream again. Not so much of Will, but of the other great love she’d lost. She’d foolishly allowed herself to think about what might happen if she rediscovered her muse and decided to take a chance in Hollywood for a while. But this script was simply something to get out of the way. Then she would go home. End of story. No pun intended.

Then she would have to decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

At nine she’d been in the foyer for ten minutes, glad of the concierge to help her with her bags and glad at how easy checking out proved to be. Still a little light headed, she found a plump cushioned chair and waited…

Will was outside at the stroke of nine. Something else that was new about him. He’d once been the worst timekeeper she’d ever known.

‘You’ll be late for your own funeral,’ she would tell him.

‘Ah, now, that’s the one time I can guarantee I’ll be on time,’ he would tease back with a smile.

Cassidy missed that Will.

The new Will was frowning behind his designer sunglasses the second he got out of his lowslung silver sports car. He said something to the uniformed man in charge of valet parking as he slipped him a folded bill, then pushed through the doors and removed his sunglasses before seeking her out. Four steps later he had his hand on the handle of her case.

‘Did you check out?’

‘Yes.’

‘Any problems?’

‘No. They said it was taken care of.’

With a nod he stepped back, watching her rise. ‘Feeling any better?’

It was said with just enough softness in his deep voice to make it sound as if he cared, which made Cassidy feel the need to sigh again. Instead she managed a small smile as she stood. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

Somewhere in the wee small hours of the night she had decided the best way not to be so physically aware of Will’s presence was to avoid looking at him whenever possible. So she didn’t make eye contact as she waited for him to load her case into the boot of his car. Instead she smiled at the liveried valet as he opened the passenger door for her—though she did almost embarrass herself again by trying to get in the wrong side of the car…

When Will got into the driver’s seat and buckled up she looked out of the side window to watch Rodeo Drive starting to think about coming to life. But they had barely pulled away from the hotel before he took advantage of the fact she was trapped.

‘Want to tell me what’s really bothering you about staying at my place?’

Not so much. No. She puffed her cheeks out for a second and controlled her errant tongue before answering. ‘We don’t know each other that well any more. It’s going be like spending time in a stranger’s house.’

There was a brief silence, then; ‘I disagree.’

Well, now, there was a surprise. They worked their way through intersections and filtered into traffic while Cassidy noticed all the differences that indicated she was in a different country from home. Larger cars, palm trees, billboards advertising things she’d never heard of before, different shaped traffic lights…

Will kept going. ‘We’re not strangers. People don’t change that much.’