“No, I do not,” she said flatly. “Whoever told you that is talking about that bootlegger that drowned off Dead Man’s Cove. He wasn’t murdered! He and his band of nitwits drank the whisky they were bootlegging, and he got so drunk he fell off and drowned. His body washed up in that cove and your great-grandfather sent a crew down there to haul his dead ass out of there. That was just rumor going around because the man’s kin wouldn’t accept that he was stupid enough to drown himself.”

  Jason chuckled. “Good to know. The story was just crazy enough that I couldn’t help wonder.”

  “Don’t wonder anymore,” Nana said, and smiled. “Help me out of this chair before you go.”

  Jason got her up, kissed her goodbye, and told her he’d come out again in a few days. He watched her go into her house, then headed for the Bickmore.

  He texted Mallory when he arrived to let her know he was there.

  She texted back:

  You have to come to my room. Second episode tonight.

  Jason joined her. They ordered room service and watched the second episode of Bad Intentions.

  As they watched, Mallory pointed out some things that she thought could have been better. And as much as Jason hated to admit it—he respected Cass, thought he was an excellent director—he had to agree with Mallory.

  This wasn’t the first time he was hearing these thoughts, and not just from Mallory. Crew members had made off-the-cuff remarks about a scene, and certainly Neil Tarelli was not a fan of Cass’s direction. But Jason hadn’t seen this episode since they’d finished it, and now, with the benefit of time, he could see what Mallory and others were talking about. There were clunky transitions. There were places the lighting was horrible, which, he supposed, they knew, as they’d fired the gaffer. But this seemed more than just a bad gaffer. This seemed like laziness.

  There was one scene where the character of the detective found out his sister had died. This was a central motivating factor to the detective’s motivation. But the news was so glossed over that Jason realized by the time the first season ended, he’d forgotten about the sister.

  When the episode ended, and Mallory was chattering about production schedules, Jason couldn’t stop thinking about how Cass had framed the episode. He thought back to when he and Cass had inked the deal with him. Cass had been enthusiastic, full of ideas. But by the time they started filming, he’d begun to complain. Nothing had changed between pre-production and production with the series. Everything was as Jason had envisioned and Cass had wholeheartedly endorsed.

  Something felt weird and off, like a thread had been pulled when he’d fired Darien, and now things were slowly unraveling.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JASON EXCUSED himself with the excuse of being exhausted—Mallory was, too—and with a lingering kiss, he left her room.

  When Mallory closed the door behind Jason that night, she stood there a minute, chewing on her bottom lip. Had she pushed too hard during the airing of episode two? She’d had her notes ready. She’d pointed out various things as they’d watched. She’d been very careful to mention the masterful things she saw in Cass’s direction—he really was amazing at directing a lot of action sequences. But that was the thing with Cass—he was a master when he wanted to be. And when he didn’t want to be a master, he rushed through scenes and left them, in her studied opinion, unfinished.

  Mallory’s desire was for Bad Intentions to be the best crime drama on anyone’s screen. But she understood why no one wanted to listen to her. Who the hell was she, the showrunner’s assistant, to offer her opinion on Cass Farenthold? She got that, she really did…but it didn’t mean her ideas or opinions were wrong. It didn’t mean she was clueless.

  Mallory was not going to stop trying to improve this show. She was never going to accomplish her goals if she wasn’t bold enough to speak up and make her thoughts known. Nevertheless, she persisted.

  But maybe her delivery could use some work. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked Jason why Cass had signed on to do Bad Intentions.

  “I’d like to think he believed in the project.”

  Yeesh. Of course he would. She’d shrugged and said, “I just wondered. There are all these rumors about him pursuing a development deal with Sony.” She’d only heard bits and pieces through the gossip grapevine on set, which was a healthy, living thing that had sunk its tentacles in everyone. There might not be any truth to it at all, but it made sense to her that Cass had signed on with Jason, and then a better deal came along, and he was contractually obligated to continue with Jason until his two-year term was up, or the series was cancelled. It would explain a lot, wouldn’t it? It was entirely possible she was too cynical, but she knew what it looked like when someone wanted out of a job. Her father made Cass look like a baby in that regard.

  “Everyone in this business is always angling for a bigger, better deal,” Jason had said evenly. “But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t interested in this one.”

  He hadn’t seemed surprised by the rumor. He’d seemed annoyed by it.

  She went back to the desk in her room and opened her laptop with the intent of emailing her sister, but was surprised to find an email from Morning Moonlight Films in her inbox.

  Hi Mallory, Kelly here! We were wondering if you’d given any more thought to joining our team! Just a reminder that we believe we have a competitive compensation package and opportunities to work on some really great projects!

  Kelly recapped the points she’d gone over with Mallory in her interview.

  It was a good opportunity for her. Mallory could accept the job now. Just hit send. If she accepted the job, she’d be working with small projects almost immediately, such as corporate videos and commercials. Admittedly, it was not exactly the content she wanted for herself, but that didn’t matter. This was a start. It was experience. And that was exactly what she needed. She didn’t want to be an assistant, she wanted to be part of the creation of the content and the final product.

  Her fingers hovered over the keys…but she didn’t accept. She thanked Kelly for her email and asked for one more week to consider the offer.

  Kelly must have been sitting at her computer, because she quickly replied.

  Please take more time if you need it. But we’ll need an answer pretty soon, particularly if we need to make other arrangements.

  Mallory assured her she understood and would have her answer in a week.

  She closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair, gazing out the window at the lights in the harbor. She had lost her fool mind, hadn’t she? This was the opportunity she’d been chasing for ten years. Why hadn’t she jumped on it? Why was Jason’s face dancing in front of her mind’s eye? Was she really going to lose this opportunity because she had the hots for the boss? It was so unlike her, so irresponsible. If Inez were here, she might have slapped some sense into her.

  Call it a gut feeling, but Mallory was not ready to pull the plug on Blackthorne Entertainment. She didn’t know what was happening with her and Jason, other than this crazy and wild sexual thing. What had happened in the cave today was beyond exciting. But where the last twenty-four hours had left her and Jason, she hadn’t had time or courage to face. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that this was not a sustainable boss-subordinate relationship. To put it more bluntly, which Inez would certainly do if she was here, this was a disastrous relationship, one that had big neon warning signs stacked all around it. This was the kind of thing that could easily break her heart.

  What she needed was for Inez to talk some sense into her. She picked up her phone.

  “Hey!” Inez said when she answered. “How’s life in Maine with your crazy-ass boss?”

  Mallory smiled into the phone. “He’s super rich, that’s what.”

  “And that’s a surprise?”

  “No, I mean he’s super rich, like Mr. Darcy and Pemberley rich.”

  Through the phone, she could hear Inez’s soft intake of breath. “Dude. Tell me everything.”

  “You would not believe the summerhouse, Inez. I thought it was a resort! It sits right on the ocean. Oh, and he flew me out in a private plane.”

  “What? What about the environment you’re always going on about?”

  “Someone was going to be riding in that plane regardless of the damage to the ozone layer, and it might as well have been me.”

  Inez laughed. “Okay, so what’s going on with Darien Simmons? The news is full of his face. Did he really force her into a bathroom?”

  Mallory gasped. “What? I hadn’t heard that.”

  “You hadn’t heard that? The girl went to People and told them he pushed her into a bathroom and locked the door behind him and started taking her clothes off. Such a sick fuck, am I right? Jason must be spinning. How is it with him, anyway, other than he’s super rich? Is he driving you crazy?”

  Not in the way Inez meant. “No, he’s been…he’s been good,” Mallory said, a little too brightly. “I mean, things are insane right now, obviously.”

  There was a slight pause on the other end. “What are you not telling me?” Inez instantly insisted. “What dick move has he done?”

  “Nothing!”

  There was a long pause on Inez’s end. “Jesus Mallory, you’re not doing his laundry are you?”

  “No!” she said firmly. At least she hadn’t yet. “Of course not, Inez,” she said firmly. Ah, the insistence of innocence by the guilty. “He has people to do that,” she said, thinking of Pam. “But we’ve, ah…we’ve sort of scratched the itch, if you know what I’m saying.”

  “Oh my God!” Inez shrieked. “Mallory! What the hell are you doing? You love your job, remember?”

  “I know,” Mallory groaned.

  “There is no way this is going to work! Are you insane? What do you think he’s going to do the moment a hot actress joins the cast?”

  “What?”

  “I’m saying, he’s going to fuck you and then he’s going to dump you when the bigger better thing comes along.”

  She didn’t have to be crude, but then again, Mallory could count on Inez to give it to her straight. “He’s not like that, Inez.” She knew, the moment the words left her mouth, how ridiculous she sounded.

  “Like hell he isn’t. Every straight man in Hollywood is like that. Girl, you need to take that other job. Don’t let your vagina do your thinking for you, Mallory.”

  “I know, I know,” Mallory said. This was exactly what she’d called Inez for, but she wasn’t liking the straight talk. What she really wanted was for Inez to tell her it was fabulous, and he was wonderful. She wanted this thing with Jason to turn into something more. And she didn’t want to leave him in the middle of all this chaos. “I know what you are saying is true. And I should take the other job. But I can’t leave him in a lurch, Inez. I can’t.”

  “Mallory. It is not your lurch. Seriously, you have to protect yourself. These things never work out. Look at Darien Simmons—”

  “Inez! Jason didn’t assault me! It’s a very mutual thing.”

  “I know, I get it, but I’m saying that he’s still a man in Hollywood, and he will sleep with you and he will use you to get through this crisis, and then where will you be? You will have passed up the other job. If you want to sleep with him, take the other job and sleep with him! But don’t do it while you’re working for him.”

  “That other job is a pay cut, remember? And we already can hardly afford the rent as it is.”

  “Now you’re making excuses. You take that other job, and you’ll get it back tenfold when your career takes off. No gain without risk, baby.”

  They talked a little more about what was going on with Inez, and Inez issued her warning again before she hung up. “You are headed for a fall,” she said.

  Inez was right in everything that she said. And still, Mallory hesitated. Her crush, or her attachment, or whatever it was she had for Jason Blackthorne was strong. What did she have for Jason Blackthorne? Was it love? Surely it wasn’t love. Or was it? Sure, she admired him. He was funny and he could be so kind—she knew he was the one who had paid the receptionist’s car repair bill without her knowing it. Tamra was still talking about her secret angel. But Jason also drove her nuts with his disorganization and his lack of consideration at times. And yet…she had never been so drawn to a guy as she was to him.

  She was mulling it over when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and picked up the call. “Hey, Megs,” she said to her sister. “What have Mom and Dad done now?”

  In the ensuing conversation about Dad’s new get-rich quick scheme—flipping houses, for God’s sake—Mallory forgot about Jason and her job offer for the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IN THE BICKMORE LOBBY, Jason was sitting on one of the antique settees. He was on his phone, wrapping up the reservation of the warehouse for filming—Cass would not be happy, but he’d made an executive decision—when he noticed a pair of legs walking down the staircase and glanced up. He was slightly startled to realize those were Mallory’s killer legs coming down the stairs. She was wearing a navy dress with little white and blue flowers, and a skirt that brushed her knees. And a pair of red heels that he imagined her wearing with nothing else.

  “Thanks, Ben,” he said to the man who owned the warehouse. He was an old family friend. “My lawyer will be in touch. I really appreciate it.” He clicked off and slowly stood. His back was still bothering him where he’d tweaked it yesterday.

  “Wow,” he said as she walked to where he stood. “You look great, Mallory.” He deliberately allowed his gaze to move appreciatively down the length of her.

  “Thanks!” She looked down. “Inez got to keep this dress after her stint on CSI Miami.” She lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes were shining. She was happy to see him.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Am I ever not ready?”

  “Rhetorical question,” he said with a grin. “That’s what makes you such a great assistant.”

  Mallory smiled back, too, but it was a little thin. As if she found the word distasteful. He packed that away for the time being.

  On the way to Boston, she filled him in on the latest gossip and press coverage of Darien Simmons. “The Hollywood Reporter is saying that another woman has come forward,” she said, reading off her phone.

  “Great,” Jason snapped. His hand fisted against the steering wheel. “I never heard anything like this about him. Did you?”

  “No, but I’m not exactly plugged in. Oh, great—here is the official statement from the lawyer.”

  She read it out loud to him, and Jason dictated a couple of changes, making it a stronger denial of any knowledge and an even stronger statement of intolerance for that sort of behavior. Next, they went over the production schedule Mallory had apparently reworked this morning. Jason silently marveled at how efficient she could be. He would kill for a tenth of that efficiency.

  They chatted about how quickly they needed one of the actors on board, assuming the auditions went well.

  They had just entered downtown Boston when Jason asked if there was anything else they needed to talk about. His mind was already a million miles ahead—past the auditions and on to the shooting that would start in days.

  “Actually,” Mallory said, and folded her hands neatly over her lap. “There is one thing.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?” Jason asked as he glanced at his watch.

  “I’ve been offered a job at a small film company.”

  He jerked his gaze to her and in doing so, very nearly jerked the car into a parked truck. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s a small independent film company. Morning Moonlight Films?”

  He’d never heard of them. He shook his head. “Doing what? CEO’s assistant? How much are they offering you? I’ll give you a raise if that’s it.”

  She pressed her lips together a moment, as if she were collecting herself. “It’s not an assistant position, Jason. It’s an offer to join their stable of directors.”

  “Director?” He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. She had no experience in directing. None. She was an assistant to a showrunner. Yeah, okay, she said she’d made some short films, but high school kids across America were making short films. That did not make her a hireable director.

  “I have done some short films,” she said defensively, as if reading his mind. “They saw my work in a couple of contests, and they asked me to interview, and I did, and now, they want to add me to their roster.”

  “Like, for pay?”

  “Of course for pay!” she said, miffed. “It’s a job, Jason.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, more to himself than to her, because his heart was suddenly racing. “Directing what, exactly?”

  “Corporate films. Commercials.”

  “Okay,” he said carefully.

  “It’s experience, Jason. And I need experience if I’m ever going to get a leg up. I want to pursue my dreams, and I can’t do that being an assistant for the rest of my life.”

  “I know,” he said. His thoughts were firing like pistons. She wouldn’t really take that job, surely. Mallory wanted to tell stories—she didn’t want to direct corporate films. Didn’t she say she was working on something now? “When did this happen?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  A few weeks ago, she’d crawled onto his lap in his office. He wondered if by-the-book Mallory had decided then to look for another job. He kept his gaze on the road. “I didn’t know you were looking for another job. You never said.”

  “Well…I think people generally caution against telling their boss they’re looking.”

  Boss. Was that what he was to her? He tended to think of them more as partners. “Makes sense,” he said. His grip of the wheel tightened as he tried to imagine doing this work without Mallory to organize him. “So, just curious here—did you do this after I made fun of the motivational posters you hung in the office?”