Page 7

Three

Seven Years Later

Maddie steppedoff the escalator at Denver International Airport and followed the crowd in front of her to baggage claim. She’d never been to this airport, but she easily found carousel four where the monitors showed her flight’s luggage would arrive soon. While she waited, she pulled her phone from her purse and turned off the airplane mode. Immediately it buzzed with atext.

Tell me when u get in. Meet ur driver by the West Terminal doors.

It was from Bree. Maddie responded. Just arrived. She pushed send and wondered for the hundredth time that morning, how did she get talked into this again? She replayed Bree’s frantic call from the day before in hermind.

“We need you, Maddie,” Bree had said. “The assistant camera operator broke his tailbone and needs surgery so we need another assistant pronto for location. We’re already six weeks into shoot. I know you swore off working with Beaumont, and I’d never ask you, but Adam only wants you. You can totally name your price and you’ll getit.”

Even though more than six years had passed, Maddie still felt the sting of the Joss Beaumont disaster that had effectively ended all her hopes of being a Hollywood director. Thank goodness she had mad skills in other areas of film, though he never treated her with respect again. On set, he treated her like his own private valet and coffee runner and then blamed her for not being around when he needed her. He might be one of the country’s top directors, but as far as she was concerned, he was anass.

Despite her dislike of Beaumont, Maddie was very fond of Adam LaForgeon, one of Beaumont’s regular camera operators. Old enough to be her father, Adam had taken her under his wing on the first film she’d done as an intern seven years before. He’d stood by her through what Maddie liked to now refer to as the Beaumont Fiasco. Soon she was working as Adam’s main assistant, joining him on all his projects. She would have been on this shoot from the beginning if Beaumont hadn’t been directing.

Adam respected Maddie’s hatred of the pompous director and would have never requested her unless he was desperate. He’d stuck by her when she was desperate. How could she turn himdown?

And she owed Bree, too. Maddie was the main reason Bree worked as Beaumont’s personal assistant. Bree shared Maddie’s dislike of the asshole, but she belonged to the keep-your-enemies-closer camp. She claimed that working for “the fucker” might help Maddie. Besides, since sleeping her way to the top hadn’t worked as well as Bree’d planned—a series of nude photos and an accidental adult film ended that—working for a big-time director seemed a great way to get into the Hollywood scene from another angle. Unfortunately, several years later she only had P.A. on her legit resume and Maddie remained a camera assistant.

So here Maddie was, less than twenty-four hours after Bree’s phone call, at the Denver airport waiting to claim her hastily packed suitcase with absolutely no information about the movie she’d be working on except that it was midway through production.

The carousel whirred into motion and Maddie’s burgundy suitcase with the rainbow ribbon on the zipper pull was the first bag to sail down the ramp. She grabbed it, pulled up the handle and wheeled it behind her while she looked for her transportation. She spotted her driver near the doors to parking holding a flimsy white piece of paper with the name Madalyn Bauers scrawled across it. He had short clean-cut blonde hair, a baby smooth face and was built like a wrestler. Young. Definitely an intern or production assistant.

“Hey,” Maddie said as she approached him. Her phone buzzed in her hand, probably with a response from Bree, but she ignored it. “You’re looking for me. I’m Madalyn Bauers. Well, Maddie.”

“Then you are correct; I am looking for you,” the young man said. He held out his hand in greeting. “I’m Sam, and I’m yourride.”

“Awesome.” Maddie didn’t miss the innuendo. “I can’t believe you went to this much trouble. I could have taken acab.”

“Honestly, I’m here to pick up one of the actors. He landed about fifteen minutes before you. You just got lucky with your timing.” Sam gave a sly smile. “Or I got lucky.”

Oh cute, he was flirting. She responded with a hesitant smile.

“I just gotta let the crew know I got you and then I’ll grab yourbags.”

While Sam made his phone call, Maddie read Bree’s text. And all isgood?

So far, Maddie replied. Pretending to still look at her phone, she covertly checked out her driver. Hmm, not bad. Good-looking, but too young. And blonds weren’t usually a hot-button for her. But still, there was possibility.

“Okay, all set. I can take your bag for you.” Sam pocketed his phone and reached for Maddie’s carry-on.

“Oh, thanks. Where’s the actor?”

“He’s around here. Went to get a coffee or a newspaper or something. He should be easy to spot.” Sam craned his neck looking around the terminal. “Yeah, there he is. Looks like he got noticed.” He motioned with his head toward a group of people a dozen or so yards away. “You know talent, they always have an entourage.”

Maddie followed Sam’s gesture. She could see the back of the actor wearing tight jeans and a casual blue sports jacket. Damn, the jacket obscured any ass-checking, but she’d bet money his booty was capital-F fine. He was signing autographs for four women surrounding him. Nearby she saw a muscleman, arms crossed, wearing sunglasses, jeans, and a T-shirt. He appeared aloof, but Maddie noticed how he watched the crowd. So this guy warrants a bodyguard. “Who is it anyway?” she asked.

Before Sam could answer, the actor and his bodyguard turned away from the groupies and started toward them. Maddie’s heart began to race. Simultaneously her stomach dropped. She knew that wavy dark brown hair, those deep-set blue eyes, and those perfectly formedlips.

“Micah Preston,” Sam and Maddie said in unison.

Wow. She was stunned.

It had been forever since she’d thought of Micah Preston as anything more than a Hollywood icon. Yes, he’d transfixed her in their brief encounter years ago and she’d dared to hope she would see him again for more than a week after that. When he didn’t call, she was disappointed, but what could she do besides move on? She hadn’t even known his fullname.

Nearly a year after their encounter, she’d come face-to-face with him on the cover of her Entertainment Weekly. Micah Preston, Break-Out Sensation, it had read. Then he was everywhere, on every magazine cover, in every movie. As hot and handsome as he’d been the night they met, his face on the screen sending Maddie’s heart into palpitations.

But seeing Micah everywhere in such a different context than the one she knew him from made it easy to distance herself from him. And the more she learned about him, the less she cared for him. Especially disgusting was the fact that Micah Preston was a playboy. In every picture the paparazzi took, he had a different stunningly gorgeous broad on his arm. Though Maddie had been easily seduced by him, she’d never done anything like that before or since. Apparently it was Micah’s M.O. Typical actor. And she, like most technical crew, had learned early in her career to stay clear of the talent. Their egos generally left little room for anyoneelse.