“You’re my employee now. Do as I say. I’ll handle Irv. You go quit Manny. Or get fired. Got any paper since your phone’s on the blink?”
Cassie dug through her purse and found paper and pen. Rhett scrawled his address and gate code.
She eyed him. “You seriously don’t want my resume? You don’t want to check my references?”
“Call me foolish but I trust you.”
Cassie eyed him speculatively. “I could be a stalker. I could’ve deliberately rammed your car to meet you. Or now I could sell your address and code on eBay to the highest bidder. Even offer tours to tourists.”
He grinned. “Nah. You’re too honest. You have an open face. Besides, I have three sisters. I read women well.”
Cassie cocked her head and studied him a moment. “I’ll bet you do.”
Rhett stepped out of the elevator. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling as he walked down the hall and interrupted Julie’s typing.
“Back so soon, Handsome?”
“I just hired Cassie Carroll to be my personal assistant. She was on her way up to her interview with Irv.”
Julie chuckled. “Stole her from under his nose, huh? She must be good.”
“I think she will be.” Rhett laughed as he pulled out his cell. “All I need to do now is call an Uber to get home since Cassie just totaled my car.”
Julie burst out laughing.
◆◆◆
Cassie nervously pulled into Rhett’s Brentwood neighborhood. She was driving a standard, which had been a disaster in the making. She didn’t even know rental companies had standards anymore. The car was a loaner from her insurance company, which probably wouldn’t stay her insurance company much longer. After she talked to her agent and told him she’d totaled Rhett Corrigan’s car, she thought the man would turn her in as some domestic terrorist sent to prey on America’s Most Beloved Sex Symbol.
She circled the block for the third time. She didn’t want to be too early. Finally, she pulled up to the iron gates. Cassie could barely glimpse the house from the road. She rolled the window down and punched in the code Rhett provided yesterday. The gates slowly folded back and the rental lurched through after stalling twice.
Her stomach had an entire Olympic gymnastics team holding practice there. The flips and flops almost had her nauseous. Her grip on the wheel slipped thanks to sweating palms. Cassie sighed. She was on Rhett Corrigan’s estate. He would be her boss—if he hadn’t changed his mind.
Manny had accepted a verbal resignation yesterday. His TV was on when she arrived but he was pretty far gone. She doubted the agent understood she was actually leaving. After cleaning out the few personal items in her desk, she celebrated with two In-N-Out burgers, animal style. Jolene hadn’t been home when she got back to their apartment and had probably gone straight from her server’s shift to the comedy club. Her roommate hadn’t come home last night or bothered to call. It wasn’t the first time, but Cassie worried about Jo all the same.
She sputtered up the long drive, parking in the circular driveway. Three other cars sat out front—a dark Mercedes, a midnight blue Porsche, and a candy red Corvette. Her dirty Toyota was a total misfit.
Cassie hoped she wouldn’t be a misfit, too.
She glanced down at her black slacks and crisp white blouse that she’d ironed the hell out of last night. She had no idea what an assistant wore. Rhett hadn’t given her specific hours. She’d decided to show up at nine, hoping that was a good time to report. If he wasn’t awake, surely a housekeeper could let her in. Would he trust her enough to give her a key?
The new job had her both curious and excited. Cassie could imagine the people she would meet. She would see behind-the-scenes Hollywood as few ever did. She reminded herself not to look starstruck. It wouldn’t be wise to embarrass herself or Rhett. Already, she felt protective of him and his brand.
She gathered her courage and walked to the door. Rhett would probably make her sign a non-disclosure agreement so she couldn’t write some nasty tell-all book. Cassie didn’t mind. The fact that the famous Rhett Corrigan was taking a chance on her already assured him of her loyalty. Her finger hesitated, hovering above the doorbell. She was about to cross a bridge from her old life into a new one. She closed her eyes and pressed the button.
The door opened almost immediately. Standing there was a man who was almost as hot as Rhett Corrigan.
“You’re not the housekeeper,” Cassie blurted out. “Are you Mr. Corrigan’s bodyguard?”
The stranger smiled, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Nope. But I am six-three, all 220 pounds of muscle and good looks at your service, Cassie Carroll.”
Cassie gawked at him. “You know who I am?”
His smile widened. “I believe you’re the little lady who made the Beemer history.”
She sensed the heat rising up her neck.
“Come on in. No need to turn red to your red roots.” He pulled her inside the foyer and closed the door. “I’m Breck O’Dell. Rhett’s best friend and stuntman extraordinaire. We’ll be seeing each other quite a bit.”
Cassie drank in the sun-kissed hair, ice-blue eyes, and golden California tan. “You’re part of his entourage.”
He laughed. “I guess you’d say I am the entourage. Just me. Sometimes Carreen, his sister.” Breck’s face clouded. “She’s sick now. Cancer.”
Cassie’s heart caught in her throat. Her dad died of lung cancer when she was seven and she still missed him after twenty years. “I’m so sorry.”
Breck shook his head. “Carreen’s a fighter. She’s been Rhett’s assistant until now. She’s doing chemo. Just finished a round yesterday. Doc says the prognosis is good.”
Cassie felt relief swirl through her. “I hope she makes it. I don’t care if it puts me out of a job.”
Breck squeezed her shoulder. “You’re all right, Cassie Carroll. Come on in, and I’ll show you the place. Rhett’s tied up right now so I’ll give you the lay of the land.”
He gave her the grand tour. She guessed the house had between fifteen and twenty thousand square feet. Breck also took her outside to the pool, the pool house, and a bungalow behind it.
“I’m finding all this hard to take in,” she admitted to him almost an hour later. “My entire apartment would fit into Rhett’s kitchen—twice.”
He laughed. “I know what you mean. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to realize what’s happened to Rhett since I’ve known him forever.”
“So how do you know Hollywood’s biggest heartthrob?”
Breck burst out laughing. “You wouldn’t have thought that if you’d seen him in kindergarten. He hates that title hung around his neck like an albatross. People judge him by it all the time.”
He indicated two chairs under an umbrella by the pool and they sat.
“Rhett’s a great guy. Solid as they come. We grew up together. The Corrigans lived in a tiny, three-bedroom bungalow in Costa Mesa. Just a stone’s throw from Disneyland. We’d mow yards to get a season pass and spend every summer day there as kids. Best baby-sitter in the world, Uncle Walt.”
“I didn’t know about his humble beginnings. I did know he was a top model for Ralph Lauren before he started acting.”