Superstar Page 6

  “Not on your life. No way. We agreed we wouldn’t stoop to that anymore. Not the fast food, but the photos.”

  “Scandal sells.”

  “I know, but . . .”

  “And I like to eat. I’m pretty sure you do, too.”

  “He’ll know I took the pictures. The security here has been pretty tight, not allowing random paparazzi in through the front doors,” Cam said.

  “Obviously, at least one photographer made it inside.”

  “Well, yeah. But none have since then that I know of. I don’t want to piss Max off more than I will when he finds out I’ve known who he was all along.” The thought was unpleasant, to say the least.

  “If you don’t get the jump on the story, you’re going to become the story. More than you already are,” Lark said.

  “I can’t sell him out. He’s actually a really nice guy once you get to know him.” And Lark was right. She did like Max. More than she probably should.

  “Just be prepared. Things will likely be a lot more hectic for you after tonight,” Lark said.

  “I will. I’ll let you know how the interview goes. If I still have an interview.” Cam rang off and slumped onto the bed. Part of her wanted to turn on her computer and check the online tabloid sites. The other part of her never wanted to know what images the cameras had caught.

  A million questions and scenarios ran through her mind, one after the other, until she’d exhausted all the possibilities. The majority of the outcomes looked bleak.

  Back flat to the bed, legs dangling over the edge to the floor, Camryn fell asleep thinking not of scandalous photos, but of a kiss she would never forget.

  Maximo couldn’t ignore Lenni’s frantic calls any longer. Two hours after returning upstairs from dinner with Raquel, he retreated to the balcony of his suite with his phone in one hand and a stiff drink in the other. He’d changed into black lounge pants, his shirt left behind on a chair.

  Sinking onto a cushioned seat with an excellent view of Palatine Hill, Max stretched out his legs and called his publicist.

  “Maximo, thank you for returning my call,” Lenni said by way of greeting.

  “I was busy today, or it would have been sooner. What’s up?” Max asked.

  “You’re all over the Internet.”

  “That’s not unusual.”

  “You’re all over the Internet with Camryn Castillo, who the tabloids are calling your ‘Second Secret Mistress,’” Lenni said. “I hadn’t realized you’d already met up with her.”

  Max’s jaw tightened. He could just imagine the sensational headlines and baseless speculation. There had been a few photos snapped during dinner with Camryn, that was all, and suddenly he had a new mistress. What he didn’t understand was the latter half of Lenni’s statement. “I’m not sure what you mean by I already met up with her. I just met Camryn last night.”

  “I left you about ten messages today explaining an interview I’d arranged for tomorrow. I accidentally mixed up dates for a sit-down with you and Ms. Castillo, so I sent her to Rome to catch up with you. It was the interview you told me to cancel earlier, but I thought after you heard the details, you might reconsider.”

  Max sat forward in his chair. “Wait a minute, you sent Camryn to Rome?”

  “Yes. Well, I gave her the option. I know it’s your vacation, but she’d already promised her readers an interview with you, so I was trying to fix my mistake,” Lenni said.

  “She’s a reporter?” Max could hardly believe it. The liquor in his stomach soured at the sense of betrayal and deception. She’d known all along who he was.

  “A journalist, yes. I mentioned the upcoming interview a couple of weeks back, but you might not remember. She’s got an upstart site where she promotes hassle-free interviews for stars. I thought it might be something you’re interested in supporting.”

  His initial knee-jerk reaction was to pound on Camryn’s door and demand answers. Ask her why she’d lied. That reaction passed quickly, followed by his determination to have nothing more to do with the woman at all. She should have been up-front and honest. Instead, she’d taken advantage of him just like so many other reporters and photographers. He supposed the pictures of them at the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, and Pompeii were soon to be circulating on the Net, exacerbating the false ‘second mistress’ theory.

  “Tell her I won’t be doing the interview. She’ll know why. I also won’t be doing any other interviews while I’m here—as we’d agreed upon before I left the States.” A muscle in his jaw flexed repeatedly.

  “What should I tell the media?” Lenni asked.

  “Tell them they can go to hell.” He ended the call and tossed his phone on a small table near his chair. Despite his soured stomach, he lifted his glass and drained his drink. The burn of the liquor failed to vanquish the taste of Camryn that he’d savored all evening and now wanted to wash away.

  Nine

  Cam dreamed of bees. Thousands of them, buzzing and stinging. She woke with a start and lurched to a sitting position, slapping at her knees and legs. Millions of needlelike pinpricks swarmed down her calves to her ankles and into her toes, rendering her legs all but useless.

  There were no bees, of course. Her legs had fallen asleep while being draped over the edge of the bed. As coherency returned, she groaned and extended her legs, desperate to bring life back to her limbs.

  Sunlight peeped through a break in the curtains, indicating the day had started without her.

  All at once, she recalled her conversation with Lark.

  The news. Photographs. Her face on the Internet with Maximo.

  As if she were stepping on a sea of broken eggshells, Camryn gingerly crossed to the desk and plopped down into the chair. With no small amount of trepidation, she opened her laptop and brought it to life. The time on the screen read: 10:15.

  Sticks and saints! How could it be so late?

  Her fingers tapped the keys. The screen flooded with images. Images of her. And the headlines were as bad as Lark said they were.

  Super Secret Second Mistress!

  The Heartthrob Has TWO Lovers!

  Camryn Castillo Identified As Maximo Payne’s New Fling!

  Maximo Payne’s Wild Threesome In Rome!

  Oh, the horror.

  Worse, Lark had also been right about the photographs of her. Talk about uncomplimentary! She looked exactly like a deer in the headlights. Wide, startled eyes. Slack lips.

  Every major online tabloid featured her and Max front and center.

  Rushing away from the desk, Camryn approached the connecting door and put her ear to the wood. Part of her thought that was a bad idea, in case she heard . . . things. The other part of her wanted to know if Max was in his suite so that perhaps she could head off the catastrophe before he read about it. Or before Lenni called to break the horrifying news. Cam needed to come clean. To explain before it all blew up in her face.

  Silence.

  She didn’t hear anything next door.

  Maybe he was still asleep.

  And maybe pigs learned how to fly overnight, she thought.

  What if she knocked and Raquel answered? Was the woman the type to throw punches? Camryn had no desire to engage in a catfight in the hallway of a five-star hotel.

  She hurried to the bed and picked up the cell phone. Lark had left a slew of new messages, all in capital letters.

  IT GOT WORSE.

  DON’T LOOK. REALLY. DON’T LOOK!

  THE PICTURES DON’T GET BETTER AFTER A BOTTLE OF WINE.

  There was also a new message from Lenni, confirming the time and location for the interview. Today, two o’clock, in the hotel garden.

  This hotel garden.

  What did it mean? Maximo must have already talked to Lenni. Maybe he wasn’t mad after all.

  The phone landed on the rumpled bedspread with a bounce.

  Camryn hurried into the bathroom and flipped on the shower. She didn’t intend to wait until two o’clock to confront Maximo an
d find out the truth.

  A half hour later, Camryn knocked on Maximo’s door. Not the connecting door, but the one in the hallway. For the impromptu meeting, she’d donned a white skirt and suit jacket of pale blue. A nude pair of heels jutted her height up a modest three inches. To complete her professional look, she’d styled her hair back into a bun and applied a heavier layer of makeup.

  When she got no answer, Camryn knocked again.

  Perhaps he’d gone down to eat lunch with Raquel. She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or annoyed. After a brief debate with herself, Camryn marched down the hallway and took the elevator to the first floor.

  A neon sign flashing Second Secret Mistress across her forehead couldn’t have made her feel more conspicuous. She was sure the entire hotel staff had seen the pictures and read the headlines.

  Immediately upon exiting the elevator, Camryn spotted several men in dark suits. Security, apparently. There were more flanking the entrance to the hallway and still others near the front door. Far more security personnel than had been on hand yesterday.

  Oh yes. Everyone knew, all right. Her cheeks flushed red when four pairs of eyes swung her way. She took a hard left through the archway into the dining area, expecting to see Maximo at a table with Raquel.

  The room was empty. Through the windows overlooking the garden, Camryn observed no fewer than four men in suits pacing the walkways.

  Sticks and saints! An entire army guarded the hotel grounds. She would have bet a month’s pay that there were others by the secret gate.

  Pivoting on the sole of her shoe, Camryn exited the dining area. The elevator ride seemed to take much longer going up than it had coming down. She wasn’t sure what to think or what to do next besides wait for the impending interview.

  How frustrating.

  As she approached her room, she noticed a maid’s cart parked in front of Maximo’s open door. Taking the bull by the proverbial horns, Camryn bypassed her own room and stopped near the cart. She could see straight into Max’s suite, and see the maid bustling to and fro.

  “Max? You there?” Cam said.

  The startled maid snapped a look at the door. “The guest has checked out, I’m sorry.”

  Checked out? Dumbfounded, Cam could only stare. The maid must be mistaken. Once Cam surfaced from shock, she cleared her throat to get the woman’s attention.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you sure?” Cam asked.

  Slim and shapely, the twenty-something maid approached the cart. She picked up a clipboard and scanned the contents. “Yes. The guest has checked out.”

  “Thank you.” Camryn turned to her room and let herself in. Nothing made sense. Why would he check out if he was planning on attending the interview?

  Then she remembered Raquel and the Secret Mistress business.

  Raquel Howard might have thrown a hissy fit to beat all hissy fits. Maybe the actress had demanded they change hotels after learning Camryn’s room was right next door. She might have even issued an ultimatum: her or me.

  All of it gave Cam a monster headache.

  After kicking off her heels, she plopped down into a chair and pulled the laptop closer. Work would keep her mind occupied. Otherwise, her brain might melt down from the endless string of questions that had no easy answers.

  Ten

  At ten minutes ’til two, Camryn opened the door and stepped from the dining area onto the patio overlooking the gardens. She carried with her a notepad, a recorder, her camera, and her cell phone. Three of the four security guards glanced her way then dismissed her just as quickly.

  A brief scan of the patio proved Maximo had not arrived yet.

  Choosing a table shaded by a large red umbrella, Camryn seated herself with her back to the wall and arranged her belongings just so. Then she rearranged them just to give her hands something to do.

  She was nervous. Anxious. Ready to put the awkwardness behind her.

  If she was honest with herself, she expected Max not to show. She thought he would rethink the wisdom of giving her what she wanted after she deliberately withheld information. And, really, she couldn’t blame him. If the situation were reversed, she doubted she would be so generous.

  Despite the fact that she sat in the shade, heat prickled her skin. The temperature was in the high eighties and slightly humid, with little to no breeze. She should have worn a thinner coat or even a crisp shirt so she wouldn’t end up dripping in sweat.

  Cam checked her watch. Five minutes to go.

  The door whooshed open and Maximo stepped onto the patio. He wore jeans and a gray button-down, eyes covered by brown tinted shades.

  Camryn rose to her feet, struggling to contain her surprise. “Max, hi. I’m glad you came. I just wanted to tell you how—”

  Max held up a hand, palm out. “Let’s get straight to the interview, Ms. Castillo.”

  Temporarily silenced, Camryn smoothed the back of her skirt and took her seat. She crossed her legs beneath the table and picked up her notepad. Thrown off guard by his abrupt manner, she glanced down at the pad and wished she’d thought to write down all the questions she wanted answered. Normally she didn’t need to; today her mind provided nothing but a blank slate.

  “Well?” Max asked as he took his own seat. He reclined, legs extended, boots crossed at the ankle.

  Camryn opened her mouth but no words came out.

  How awkward. She tried again.

  “Uh . . . I wanted to know—I mean, Integrity readers are interested in hearing how your career got started.” Camryn stifled a groan. What a boring question.

  “Integrity. That’s an interesting name,” Max said. “You might want to rethink the title since it doesn’t quite fit.”

  “I thought we were sticking to the interview?” Camryn said. Irked suddenly, she arched a brow, wishing she’d thought to wear sunglasses. She hated that he could read everything she was thinking and yet she could not do the same.

  “Aren’t you going to turn on the recorder?” Max asked.

  Camryn sighed with exasperation. She reached over and turned on the recorder. Thank God he’d reminded her, or she would have had no direct quotes to pull from. Annoyed at him, and at herself for forgetting, she decided to turn the tables. “How long have you and Raquel Howard been lovers?”

  Maximo’s jaw flexed.

  She imagined his eyes narrowing behind the shades, and could all but feel his sudden irritation. Good, she thought to herself. He deserved it. If he thought her initial question too boring, then it was time to turn up the heat.

  “No comment,” he said.

  “No? This is your chance to clear the air once and for all.” Camryn’s blank slate snapped to life with an infusion of questions and snippy quips. Max had inadvertently lit her fuse; now he could suffer a long, slow burn. A part of her ached at the turn of events, at the icy reception she knew she deserved but resented anyway. This wasn’t the way she’d wanted things to turn out. Not after yesterday, not after their kiss last night.

  “No comment,” he repeated.

  “Are you going to no comment your way through the entire interview? Because let’s not waste our time if so.” She was losing her temper. Forget the slow burn. He was about to enter an inferno.

  “That depends on the quality of your questions,” he countered. “Ask me something worthwhile.”

  “Your relationship with Raquel Howard is very relevant. I’d venture to guess that it’s in the top five questions readers want answered. So tell us, Mr. Payne, how long have you two been lovers?” Cam refused to back down.

  “No comment.”

  Camryn wanted to shove her shoe down his throat. The insufferable bastard. How could she have thought him so charming? Inwardly seething, she changed the nature of the question. “Is she your only mistress?”

  “Besides you?” he quipped.

  Her cheeks flushed beet red. Maximo had turned the tables right back on her, proving he’d definitely seen or heard the newest headlines. Super S
ecret Second Mistress! She couldn’t decide whether to gag or vomit.

  Camryn stared down at her notepad. She stared at it hard, like her eyes might become lasers and burn holes through the paper.

  “No more questions?” Max asked. He tilted his chair back on two legs, balancing precariously.

  Caught in a fit of fury, Camryn surged to her feet. She threw the notepad at him, then the pen. Both hit his chest dead center. Surprise crossed his features as he fell backward, crashing to the ground with a bang.

  Cam snatched up the camera and hastily snapped off three pictures. “Let’s see what your fans think about that!”

  “You even think about putting those—”

  “What? I can’t hear you.” Camryn talked over him, snatching up her phone and the recorder. Items in tow, she marched toward the doors with a stiff spine, heels cracking out a militant rhythm.

  “Camryn!”

  She flounced inside, ignoring the startled looks from the security team and hotel employees. Her pace never slowed for a second.

  Max caught her by the elbow just as she reached the elevator door. Frowning, she spun to face him. Cam wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that steam was billowing out of her ears.

  “This interview is over. After all, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” she snapped.

  “Now, wait just a minute—”

  “I don’t have to wait for anything.” Camryn stepped inside the elevator and stabbed her finger against the button.

  Max stepped inside, too, and crowded her against the wall. “Listen here, you little vixen. You deserved everything you got out there.”

  Camryn refused to look at her reflection in his sunglasses. She stared at his throat with the same intensity that she’d stared at the notepad earlier. Heart racing, she fell back onto the safety of an old standby: the silent treatment.

  Maybe she did deserve it. Maybe she should have seen it coming. She was irrationally angry regardless, unwilling to listen or bend.

  Maximo freaking Payne could go right to hell.