Throb - Page 25/74

“I’m good, Mom, really. School keeps me busy.” She has no idea I took a year off and decided to try to win the prize on Throb. Luckily, none of her friends watch reality TV.

“You find love when you least expect it. Sometimes at the most inconvenient times.” You can say that again.

We sit and talk for a while, and inevitably the conversation turns to finances. It’s been a consuming topic since Dad died and all of the ugly truths came out. “The bank sent an appraiser over.” She sighs.

“What are you talking about?”

“Yesterday, a man came by to look at the house.”

“How do you know the bank sent him?”

“Because he told me they did.” Oh geez. Being married to one of the world’s biggest card sharks for thirty years certainly didn’t affect my mother the same as it did me. I’m always looking for the sleight of hand. Mom is way too trustworthy.

“Did he leave a card?” I have a power of attorney on file with her bank and mortgage company. They should have called me if they were sending someone over. Builders and potential investors have been snooping around since the house first went into foreclosure.

“No.”

“What was his name?”

“I don’t recall. It was something odd though. One of those names that has a dark ring to it.” She shrugs and sips her tea. “But it went with what he looked like, I suppose.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was tall, bald … wore all black. Looked tough. He was very nice though. Just looked a bit rough around the edges. At first, when he rang the doorbell, I was sure he was a friend of your father’s. I’m surprised you don’t know about it. He knew your name. I guess the bank must have given it to him.”

We finish our tea and sit around talking for a while. I have such limited time with Mom that I make the decision not to spend it worrying about something I can’t change right this minute. I make a mental note to call the bank tomorrow.

Spending the afternoon with my mother reinforced that I’m making the right choices, although it doesn’t make it any easier to forget the feeling of being near Cooper today. My heart leaped just seeing him. Knowing how much he wants me made it that much more difficult. Remembering how it felt to have his hand on the inside of my thigh, inching it’s way up to the heat between my legs, made it impossible. I have no willpower around that man. There is no choice but to keep away from him. And work on rekindling whatever sparks Flynn and I may have had before Cooper Montgomery walked into my life.

My phone buzzes as I turn onto the crowded Pacific Coast Highway. I press the button on the dashboard and the blaring music is replaced by the sound of a man’s voice.

“Kid?” I’ve never talked to Frank Mars on the phone before, yet I know it’s him with just that one simple word.

“Hi Frank.”

“You busy tonight?”

“You’re married, Frank. I can’t go out with you.”

“In my dreams, kid. In my dreams.” I can tell he’s smiling through the phone. “Listen, Grip can’t make it tonight. The bum just called, something about Bernice’s bursitis. We need a fourth. You free?”

I am, but I’m also wary of whom I’d be sitting next to. “Umm … is Ben playing tonight?”

“You’re killing me. You got a thing for Ben? If you like old men, I’ll drop my wife faster than you can say ‘don’t let the door hit your fat ass on the way out, Sharon.’”

I laugh. “No worries. My heart belongs to you, Frank. I was just asking so I’d know if I should bring the cufflinks I won from him last time.”

“Yeah. Bring ’em. But I’m betting he doesn’t win them back. And you haven’t met Carl yet either. We won’t let on who you are. He can be your sucker tonight.”

Disappointed, yet relieved Cooper isn’t going to be one of the four, I agree to play. This morning I had two men who seemed interested, yet tonight I have no plans. Dating a man who has five other girlfriends makes for a very lonely Friday night.

Chapter fourteen

Cooper

“Your father would be proud right now, Cooper,” Ben Seidman says, a stack of papers sitting in front of each of us. Red and green tabs stick out from the sides, indicating dozens of places we both need to sign to formalize the deal.

Ben’s right—my father would be proud. Co-produced movies are a rarity in the film business, especially when the two production houses are the number one and number two producers in the world. But if any two companies can make it work, it’s Diamond Entertainment and Montgomery Productions. My father’s best friend is a formidable opponent, and will make an even better feature film partner.

“Fucking Grip,” Ben grumbles as he reaches the bottom of the signing pile. “The old bastard was whipped before he retired, now he’s all but hog tied to Bernice.”

I’d forgotten it was card night. “You need a fourth?”

“Nah. Frank got someone. Don’t you have a hot date or something better to do than sit around losing all your hard-earned money anyway?” He signs the last document and tosses his pen on the desk, leaning back in his chair. “Isn’t anything sacred anymore? Jack and I, we never missed once in twenty-eight years.”

I slide the paper he just signed across the desk to my side. One more signature and we’ll be changing the film industry as we know it. I lift my Montblanc, thinking I’m putting this pen aside. The one Dad used to ink his first film deal is sitting in my top right hand desk drawer. This one should keep it company. “Who’s filling in tonight?”