All or Nothing. Debbi Rawlins
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“About three years.” She hadn’t stopped moving, but continued to walk in place and shake out her arms. She got more than a few second looks and not because of anything she did. No makeup and her hair plastered back, she was still stunning.
He wondered if Roscoe had told him everything. If that ol’ boy had slept with her and left that part out, Chase was gonna wring his neck. He eyed her again, trying not to be too obvious. Nah, she wouldn’t hook up with an old windbag like Roscoe. Even if the guy was rich. But then what the hell did Chase really know about her? “Are you from New York?”
“Indiana.”
“What brought you here to the big city?” he asked causally.
Her smile was brief and sad, but wasn’t going to stop him from lying through his teeth.
The light turned green, and she entered the crosswalk without answering him. She checked her watch. “You set the pace, but I’ll make sure we’re back in time for you to get to your eleven-thirty meeting. Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
For the first mile she was quiet except to warn him when a turn was coming up. They ran at a faster clip than he’d anticipated and he needed to get a conversation going while he could still run, breathe and talk at the same time. A year back he’d been in great shape and this would’ve been no sweat, but now not so much. The last twelve months had been the year from hell. Too much shit had gone down, none of it that he could control.
“You have a lot of clients?” He slowed down, pretending to watch a kid throw breadcrumbs to the ducks clustered at the edge of a small man-made lake.
She immediately downshifted. “Enough.”
“A woman of few words. Or can’t you keep up the pace and talk?”
She slid him an amused look. “I’m a personal trainer when I’m not doing this.”
“You work in a club?”
“No, I go to people’s homes.”
Interesting. He made a mental note to check into it. That kind of history could work in her favor. Or put a nail in her coffin. “Must pay pretty well. This city ain’t cheap.”
She laughed softly. “Think about how much you’re paying me to babysit you for an hour.”
“Good point.”
“How are you doing?”
“Still breathing.”
“We’ve gone almost three miles. After this next curve we’ll head back to the hotel via the east side of the park.” She wasn’t breathing hard, and unlike him, hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“I’m glad you know where you’re going. I’m totally lost.”
“That’s what keeps me in business.”
Chase grunted. That was about all he could manage at the moment. The three miles weren’t as much the problem as the pace he’d initially set. He should’ve taken it easier. Hell, his wound was still tender because he hadn’t allowed it to heal properly. If only he had a brain the size of his ego.
A group of chatty young kids obviously on a field trip crossed their path and slowed them down. He wasn’t complaining. He wanted to shake each of their grimy little hands. Once the way was clear again, Dana shot him a questioning look. He stuck to a slow jog and she stayed beside him.
“I didn’t realize it was so humid here,” he said. “Nothing like Houston, mind you, where the air is thicker than my mama’s country gravy.”
“That’s where you’re from?”
He nodded. “I just bought a house near Hollywood so I’ve been kind of bouncing back and forth.”
She checked her watch again. “We’re going to have to pick it up a bit to get you back in time.”
Damn it, he’d baited the hook and she hadn’t even taken a nip. “Ever been to California?”
“Nope. I haven’t been farther west than Indiana.”
“The west coast is like living in a whole different country. Haven’t decided if I like it or not yet.” He let a few moments lapse and when it was obvious she wasn’t going to comment, he added, “But that’s where the talent is, they tell me. Of course I’m thinking I might find a mother lode here on Broadway.”
She slowly looked at him, her brows furrowed with curiosity. “What kind of business are you in?” She blushed. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Up until now I’ve been involved in oil mostly. That’s how my daddy made the family money, anyway.” He paused and grinned. “I’m what you call going to divest and spend some of that money on films.”
She took a moment to digest what he’d said, and he was pleased to see interest flicker across her face. “You’re a producer.”
“That’s right. I have my eye on a play that I think will turn into a nice box-office hit. I’m meeting with the playwright tomorrow.”
“Ah.” She played it cool, scarcely showing anymore reaction, but he knew he’d gotten her attention.
“Wish I could tell you which one, darlin’, but I’m a bit superstitious about these things.”
“No, I don’t blame you. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
He winked. “I thought we were just having a friendly conversation.”
She didn’t smile. “It’s just another mile out of the park. Want to pick up the pace for the last stretch?”
“Okay,” he said, wishing he knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers. What was her story? Had she come to New York to act? Model? Find a rich husband? He’d bet she was more ambitious than that. But places like New York and Hollywood could be ruthless and unforgiving and shatter a young girl’s dreams into a million pieces. Cause a lot of heartache and disappointment. Enough to make a person bitter. And bitterness changed a person.
The small ranching town outside of Dallas where he’d grown up had produced a couple of Hollywood hopefuls. Ashley Morgan had won most of the beauty pageants from Dallas to the panhandle, twirling that baton of hers and easing out everyone in the talent category. Senior year he’d gone out with her twice, probably due to curiosity on her part because of his muddy reputation, but he didn’t have anything she needed to further her career, so it had ended pronto. Hadn’t bothered him none.
Nah, ol’ Ashley hadn’t been the sharpest tool in the shed, but she had a body that wouldn’t quit. He’d heard it had gotten her a bit part in a B movie, then she got married to a fat, rich oilman and had a whole passel of kids.
They jogged around a curve and he saw the lineup of horses and carriages, and knew he had only a