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As far as Dan could tell every director and co-star who had ever worked with Melissa thought she was an angel. Anyone who ranked lower than a named credit in the titles, however, told a rather different story.
He sighed, running through his mind once more the series of off-the-record conversations he’d had recently. It wasn’t an unfamiliar story—he’d met enough stars who played the part of benevolent, caring, charitable celebrity to the hilt when anyone who mattered was looking, then turned into a spoilt brat the moment the cameras switched off. He’d even been married to one of them. The only difference was that this time it was Riley marrying the witch—and he needed to be sure his baby brother knew exactly what he was getting in to.
Riley didn’t do personas, Dan thought. In fact it was a mystery how he’d ever got into acting in the first place. It probably said something that he always got cast to play the nice guy, though. The ‘aw, shucks, good old country boy’ who found true love after ninety minutes, or the clean-cut superhero who could do no wrong.
That certainly fitted with the way their parents saw him, anyway.
But this week Dan was far more concerned with how Melissa saw him. Was it true love? Or was he her ticket to something bigger? Her career was doing well, as far as he could tell, but Riley was a step up. Stars had married for a lot less—and he didn’t want to see his brother heartbroken and alone six months after he said, ‘I do.’
‘Melissa...’
Laurel sighed again, and Dan tuned back in to the phone conversation she was enduring. Seemed as if Melissa didn’t count her half-sister as someone who mattered. Hardly unexpected, given their history, he supposed. Everyone knew that story—inside and outside the industry.
He wondered why Melissa had hired her famously estranged half-sister to organise the celebrity wedding of the year. Was it an attempt at reconciliation? Or a way to make Laurel’s life miserable? Judging by the phone call he was eavesdropping on, it definitely felt like the latter. Or maybe it was all about the way it would play in the media—that sounded like the Melissa he’d heard stories about from Jasmine, his best stunt woman, who’d doubled for Melissa once or twice.
This wedding would be his chance to find out for sure. Ideally before she and Riley walked down the aisle.
At least he had a plan. It was good to have something to focus on. Otherwise he might have found himself distracted—maybe even by the brunette on the phone...
‘I’ll be back at Morwen Hall in less than an hour,’ Laurel said finally, after a long pause during which she’d nodded silently with her eyes closed, despite the fact her sister obviously couldn’t see the gesture. ‘We can talk about it some more then, if you like.’
She opened her mouth to speak again, then shut it, lowering the phone from her ear and flashing him a tight smile.
‘She hung up,’ she explained.
‘Problems?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Laurel, he’d already learned, talked to fill the silence—something that seemed to be absent when she was speaking with her half-sister. If he let her ramble on maybe she’d be able to give him all the information about Melissa he needed to talk his brother out of this wedding. They could all be on their way home by dinner time, and he could get back to business as usual. Perfect.
‘Oh, not really,’ Laurel said lightly, waving a hand as if to brush away his concerns. ‘Just the usual. Last-minute nerves about everything.’
Dan sat up a little straighter. ‘About marrying Riley?’
‘Goodness, no!’
Laurel’s eyes widened to an unbelievable size—dark pools of chocolate-brown that a man could lose himself in, if he believed in that sort of thing.
‘Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant at all! I just meant...there are so many arrangements in place for this week and, even though I really do have them all in hand, Melissa just likes to...well, double check. And sometimes she has some new ideas that she’d like to fit in to the plans. Or changes she’d like to make.’
‘Such as the wedding favours?’ Dan said, nodding at the glossy bag by her feet.
‘Exactly!’ Laurel looked relieved at his understanding. ‘I’m so sorry if I worried you. My mouth tends to run a little faster than my brain sometimes. And there’s just so much to think about this week...’
‘Like your ex-fiancé,’ Dan guessed, leaning back against the seat as he studied her.
An informant who talked too much was exactly what he was looking for—even if he hadn’t really thought about her as such until now. Fate had tossed him a bone on this one.
Laurel’s face fell, her misery clear. Had the woman ever had a thought that wasn’t instantly telegraphed through her expression? Not that he was complaining—anything that made reading women easier was a plus in his book. But after spending years learning to school his responses, to keep his expressions bland and boring, he found it interesting that Laurel gave so much away for free.
In Hollywood, he assumed people were acting all the time. In the case of people who had to deal with the over-expressive actors, directors and so on, they learned to lock down their response, to nod politely and move on without ever showing annoyance, disagreement or even disgust.
Laurel wasn’t acting—he could tell. And she certainly wasn’t locking anything down. Especially not her feelings about her ex-fiancé.
‘Like Benjamin,’ she agreed, wincing. ‘Not that I’m planning on thinking about him much. Or that I’ve been pining away after him ever since...well, since everything happened.’
Yeah, that sounded like a lie. Maybe she hadn’t been pining, but she’d certainly been thinking about him—that much was obvious.
‘What did happen? If you don’t mind me asking.’
