Page 97 of Work It Out
He shook his head as he paced the living room of his reasonably modest L.A. home. That wasn’t right. Tons of people could’ve taken the photos in that email, but he could only think of one person who would’ve kept them to use for extortion.
The doorbell rang. Jake ran to fling it open for his guest.
He really should’ve thought that choice through better. He’d barely glimpsed daylight when a massive fist caught him on the jaw, snapping his head back and sending him reeling. “Son of a bitch!”
One hand wound into his shirt front, then yanked him off the floor and onto his feet. “That was for Rayah. You sure you want to bring my momma into this?”
Shit. How had he not expected it to go like this? Still… “I swear, man. It wasn’t what it looked like.”
Blaine stomped a few feet into the house, shoving Jake backward ahead of him, then slammed the door shut. In the next breath, he lifted Jake off his feet and pinned him to that same door with one hand at his throat. “Give me one good reason not to squeeze the life out of you right here and scatter bits of you all the way home.”
Lights danced through Jake’s vision, and his chest burned like fire. “Because…” He tried to swallow, failed. “I can’t help you ruin him if I’m dead.”
Blaine’s ice blue eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“Her father.”
Suddenly, Jake was a wheezing mass on the floor. He rubbed at his neck. “I’d never hurt her.”
“You sayin’ you have an evil twin?”
“Screen test.” Jake struggled to his feet. “Yvonne is up for the part as my love interest. The producers wanted to see if we still have enough on-screen chemistry to pull it off.” When he was steady on his feet, he started toward the kitchen for some ice.
The second punch caught him more off guard than the first, and that was saying something.
“What the hell?!” Jake coughed, one arm cradling his gut, as if that could somehow put all his organs back where they belonged. “Use your words, man.”
“That was for dragging me to California.” He said the state as if the word were interchangeable with the bowels of Hell.
California, his ass. Blaine had been itching to punch him from the moment he realized Rayah was interested in Jake. Whatever. He’d let Blaine take a couple of shots if it made the guy feel better. The plan might work without him, but Jake wasn’t willing to bet her safety and happiness on it.
Blaine sat down at the kitchen island, grabbed an apple, and munched noisily. “What’s that mean old SOB done now?”
Jake shuffled over to the freezer, selected a bag of corn for his face, and slapped the whole thing against his jaw. His internal organs would have to make do. “It’s complicated. To be honest, parts of it are just conjecture.” Blaine kept right on crunching his apple and staring at him with cold eyes.
“I fired Shawn.” Blaine raised one brow but kept chomping. “I called him after those photos and that ridiculous statement hit the media. He admitted that he told that reporter about the Hunt and the part I’m up for, hoping to stir up enough buzz to make casting think twice about hiring anyone else. He just didn’t anticipate her finding a juicier story. He said that bullshit about Rayah because he thought her current situation would hurt my chances with such a conservative production company.” Jake rolled the corn around and hissed, finding another sore spot. “He didn’t take the news well, threatened to sue me for breach of contract and half a dozen other things, none of which would hold water in court and he knows it. When that didn’t work, he got nasty, threatened to tell the world about my POTS and ruin my chances of ever getting a good action part.”
Finally, the chomping stopped. Blaine stood and chucked the apple core in the trash. “I still don’t see where Rayah comes into this. God knows, I don’t give a damn about your career.”
Shocker.
“I didn’t respond. Then yesterday, all contact from him stopped. This morning, I get an email to my private account from Donald Summers. He’d attached two photos, one of Rayah and I kissing and one of me where I looked like I was passed out on the floor. There was also a thirty-second video of Rayah tackling me, then holding me while I tried to come to all the way, then yelling at me.” It had been a very eventful thirty seconds. “He’s willing to keep it all out of the press, for a price of course.”
“How much?”
“He thought two mil had a nice ring to it.”
Blaine whistled. “One for each of them?”
“That’s my guess.”
“Why am I here? Extra muscle?” Blaine asked like it was a forgone conclusion.
“Nope. You’re insurance. Those two need to know, no matter what happens between Rayah and me, she’ll always be protected.”
Blaine’s left eyebrow jumped, and the tiniest glimmer of respect lit his eyes. “What’s the plan?”
Jake sighed and plopped the corn on the island. “Thought you’d never ask.”
