As she kept pace with Rhett, though, she decided to roll with the punches. “Relax and enjoy it,” she told herself, trying hard to take her own advice. “It won’t last forever. Nothing good ever does.”
That was one lesson Hollywood had taught her. She’d come from Texas with big dreams and an open heart. Nowadays, she was content if she could pay her rent and bills on time and fly under the radar. Forget seeing her name in lights on the big screen. She’d always be lingering in the shadows—if that.
Cassie wondered where Rhett might take her to eat. Wolfgang Puck’s place? The Ivy? No, he didn’t seem the type. The paparazzi rarely took his picture. She doubted they would go to any place high profile. Maybe it would be some private club, tucked away, catering to the oh-so-famous rich.
It surprised her when Rhett’s blinker came on and he pulled into a strip shopping center. She followed him around to the back and parked where the staff did. He waited for Cassie at the rear door and they entered, walking through the noisy kitchen, full of steaming pots of boiling water and shouts of orders. She could smell the yeast of baking rolls and the not-so-subtle garlic that must be liberally applied in the dishes served.
Rhett greeted several workers by name as they passed, and one server led them to a table far in the back, just off the kitchen. She’d always thought of stars sitting in the prime spot, the center of a room, but that didn’t seem to be Rhett Corrigan’s style.
“The usual, Mr. C?” the server asked, his pen poised above his pad.
“Make it two of everything, Raoul. And meet Cassie, my new assistant. She has no idea what she’s in for.”
Raoul beamed at her. “Glad to meet you, Cassie. Don’t let Mr. C push you around. Teach him who’s the boss.” The server winked at her and left to place their order.
Cassie frowned as Raoul disappeared. She wasn’t used to not even seeing a menu, much less having no say in what she would eat. “What are we getting? And what if I’m allergic to it? What if I don’t even like Italian?”
Rhett grinned. “You’ll like it all. I’ve never had a bad meal here.”
He was right. The salad was crisp and cold, with a marvelous house dressing that she wished she could buy. The entrée turned out to be a trio of manicotti, lasagna, and cannelloni. The yeasty rolls she’d smelled definitely had a hint of garlic in them and melted in her mouth.
They talked as they ate. She had thought this lunch would be all business but Rhett conversed with her as he would a new friend.
“Where are you from?” he began, seeming both interested and curious about her.
“The heart of Texas. Where people still say yes, ma’am and no, sir. A place where barbeque reigns supreme and people look you in the eye when they pass you on the sidewalk and say hello and ask how you’re doing.”
He laughed. “That’s the antithesis of California. What else? Your favorite movie. Favorite food. The one place where you’d want to go if money was no object.”
“Movie would be The Usual Suspects.”
“Hmm. I took you for a romantic comedy fan.”
She grinned. “I do love them but I’m fond of the twist. Favorite food? Anything I don’t have to make—even though I enjoy cooking.” She paused. “As for place? It would have to be Maui. Even though I’ve never been there before.”
He gazed into her eyes, sending a ripple down her spine. A very pleasant ripple, which she chose to ignore.
“Why Maui?”
She shrugged. “Because it’s everything Waco isn’t. It’s got mountains and the ocean and between those it’s a tropical paradise. I always thought if I made it—if I became truly successful—I’d buy a place on Maui. My own private getaway. I’d learn to surf. Hit the waves early every morning after I watched the sunrise. Walk the beach after surfing. Grill every meal and eat it outdoors. Go down to the water and watch the sun set each night and wait for the moon to rise.”
She swallowed. “It’s a pipe dream. Something that will never happen.” She shook her head. “I’m embarrassed I even told you. You’re the ultra-successful Rhett Corrigan. You have enough money to buy the entire island of Maui.”
Glancing down, mortified, it surprised her when his fingers tilted her chin up. Their eyes met.
“Never feel awkward or embarrassed for having a dream. Everyone needs a goal. Big ones. Little ones. In-between ones. Maui is your big goal. Don’t let go of it. Ever.”
Rhett’s fingers fell away but Cassie still felt the warmth of them on her skin. He wasn’t anything like she would have thought a man of his fame would be like. He was quieter. More contemplative. He seemed to speak from his heart.
Unfortunately, her heart began to respond in ways that spelled trouble. She needed to put the brakes on.
Fast.
“Tell me about my new position,” she said as she dug into the bread basket again, wanting to steer the conversation into a safer and more productive direction. She wanted to learn what his schedule was like and about the expectations he had regarding the job she now held.
As he spoke, Cassie learned a little more about the day-to-day activities in Rhett’s life. She believed she could handle everything he mentioned with ease. Surprisingly, she also found that he had a wicked sense of humor.
“You should do a comedy,” she told him after she caught her breath from laughing. “Everyone would be blown away by how funny you are. You’re always so serious on screen, glaring at the bad guys and playing it cool and silent.”
A dark look flitted across Rhett’s face. It was gone in an instant and, for a moment, she questioned whether she’d really seen it or not.
“That might be a nice change of pace.” He picked up another roll and tore a piece off.
“No, seriously. You should pursue it. Tell Irv to send you something light and fun. It would be a terrific change for you.”
He gave her a sour look. “I’m afraid your idol Irv has me pigeon-holed. I’ve been trying to get him to help me branch out for over a year. A guy can only shoot up so many cars and terrorists before he goes stark-raving mad.”
His words surprised her. “You’re serious.” Cassie leaned forward. “You want to try something new but Irv sees his golden goose laying a stinker of an egg instead.”
Rhett nodded. “That about sums it up. I’m his cash cow. He wants to stick with tried and true material. Let’s face it—I’m the poster boy for action/adventure films.”
“Then you either get what you want, or we look for new representation, Corrigan.”
Her words seem to take him aback. “Whoa, Cassie. I can’t go issuing threats to Irv. He’s been my agent since I hit Hollywood. He got me my first break in Killjoy. I can’t walk out now.”
Cassie looked at him steadily. “Why not? Sure, Irv’s been good to you, blah-blah-blah. But he represents you—and takes a generous percentage of what you earn. If you aren’t happy, you are free to look elsewhere for representation.” She paused, wanting her words to sink in. “An agent guides a career, Corrigan. He can help make one. But remember, the agent always works for you. Never against you or your wishes.”
Cassie watched Rhett chew thoughtfully on his roll. She’d already opened this can of worms and decided to pursue it further.