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“You make maverick sound like a bad thing. It’s not so terrible.”
“Not so wicked, you mean?” Mia gave a sly grin. “So Rick’s worked his charm on you then?”
Chiara’s face warmed. Was it charm—or something more? Just a short time ago, she’d have called Rick the least charming man she knew, but somehow her feelings had been changing. Now with his family, she was even more...charmed.
Mia leaned in conspiratorially. “You’re beautiful, smart and famous. How did you and Rick wind up together?”
“We...um...” Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to lie to Rick’s sister, so she finished lamely, “Don’t believe everything you read in the press.”
What could she say? We’re not really a couple. It’s a big fat lie. Even if she was having increasing trouble remembering that, especially surrounded by the Serenghettis.
“I see,” Mia responded, and then nodded as if satisfied. “Well, you two bounce off each other in a charming way. It’s as if Rick has met his match.”
Even if that were true, it meant one of them was going down for the count...
“You’re someone who can’t be impressed by his money,” Mia added.
What? Chiara mentally shrugged, and said carefully, “I’m not sure how much money Rick has.”
Mia laughed. “Neither am I, but after making a killing with his hedge fund, he’s got enough to play with.”
Hedge fund? Chiara felt her head swim. Rick was a gritty rolling stone of a stuntman as far as she knew. If he had millions, what was he doing...?
“He’s a stuntman,” she blurted. “He jumps off buildings, leaps from moving cars...” And embraces actresses while hanging from a helicopter.
“And takes big risks with money by betting things are going up or down in value.” Mia shrugged. “Same thing.”
Chiara froze. Mia made it seem as if Rick was a risk taker—which wasn’t far from her gambling father. She’d never seen the similarity, and now she was in a very public relationship with Rick. She needed therapy...and not the kind provided by pretending to talk with a wooden dummy, either. Sorry, Ruby.
But even more shockingly, Rick wasn’t merely a stuntman, he was—
“Pegasus Pride is his baby right now,” his sister said.
Chiara blew out a breath and tried to keep her voice steady. “He’s got money invested in the film?”
Mia nodded. “You didn’t know?”
Nope. Otherwise she’d never have spent her time insulting the boss—the producer of her current film—who could have had her fired any day.
Mia gave a choked laugh. “That’s just like Rick. He always wants to keep a low profile.” Her eyes suddenly danced. “We’re still talking about his favorite childhood Halloween costume. You know, he just tossed a brown paper bag over his head and made cutouts for eyes.”
“And the school play?” Chiara nearly squeaked.
“Stage crew, or he’d play the tree, of course.”
“Well, he’s graduated to leaping from speeding motorcycles and hanging from airplanes,” Chiara replied drily. And tricking unwary actresses.
She glanced over at Rick. Why hadn’t he told her? She’d thought...they’d... Chiara nearly closed her eyes on a groan.
She really needed to talk to him. But not around his family. No, she’d have to wait for the right moment...
Eight
Chiara somehow managed to keep her silence until they were at Rick’s place.
At least now she understood why he might be checking his phone all the time. He was a behind-the-scenes Hollywood power player who liked to keep his name out of the press. And perhaps he needed to keep track of his substantial financial investments, too.
When they arrived at his condo, she was impressed all over again. But at least now she was prepared for what she found, unlike when they’d first arrived in Welsdale. The airy space had the stamp of muted luxury: exposed brick, rich leathers, recessed lighting and electronics hidden behind sliding panels of artwork. Nearly floor-to-ceiling windows made the most of the apartment’s perch on the top floor of a block of high-priced condos, and Welsdale’s evening lights twinkled outside.
