But why hadn’t Bryan contacted Terry directly? Or simply written the story? Clearly he had firsthand knowledge of many of the facts, including the breakup of Terry’s marriage and the reason for it. Whether he actually knew about Neil was another question.
“Jason, have you heard a word I said?” Callie demanded.
“Sorry.”
“I was trying to tell you that I may have discovered a break in the case.”
He blinked at that. “You have?”
“Paul Locklear is gay.”
He stared at her blankly, trying to picture the man he knew only by his award-winning reputation. “The director?”
“That’s right. And the person who told me is convinced he has the hots for Terry.”
“Then why would he threaten him?”
Callie’s excitement visibly faded. “I don’t know. He’s such a sweet man, I can’t imagine him wanting to force Terry to come out of the closet publicly. What purpose would that serve? It might even force him out of the show and then where would Paul be? He wouldn’t be seeing him on a regular basis at all.”
“Unless he has the twisted idea that Terry would be driven into his arms for comfort.”
Callie waved off the suggestion. “He has Neil for that.”
“When it comes to love, though, hope springs eternal. He could think that the publicity would ruin the relationship.”
“I suppose.” She gazed at Jason with wide, worried eyes. “Has your sexy P.I. discovered anything?”
“As a matter of fact, she does have a lead.” He described what Dana had learned about Bryan. “Has this guy ever approached you for a story?”
Callie shook her head. “The name’s not familiar at all, but Jenny doesn’t usually come to us with requests from the tabloids. She knows most of us will turn them down.”
“I’ll do some checking on him tomorrow with the corporate publicity people. They know everyone in town, no matter how sleazy.” He glanced down into her upturned face. “In the meantime, I can think of far better things to be doing with these few minutes we have alone before we get to your place.”
Fire flared in Callie’s eyes. “Have you forgotten that I am mad at you? Hiring Hank behind my back was a sneaky, underhanded thing to do.”
Jason chuckled at the prompt renewal of indignation. “No, I haven’t forgotten, but I was hoping that you had.”
“Not a chance. I hold a grudge.”
“For how long?”
“Maybe forever.”
“How about days?” he countered, rubbing his thumb over the sensual curve of her lips.
“Not days. Weeks, at least,” she said, but she sounded a little breathless and less than certain.
“Minutes,” he proposed, brushing a kiss across her forehead. “You’ve made your point.”
“Have I really?” she said doubtfully.
“Definitely.”
She edged away and shook her head. “I don’t know. You look like a man capable of lying to get his way.”
“There’s no need to lie,” he protested. “All I really have to do is kiss you.”
He proceeded to demonstrate before she could gather her wits to argue with him. He would probably pay for the sensual assault eventually, but right now her irritation over the hiring of Hank Parker was definitely fading.
And, even more important, this mess with Terry was clearly the last thing on her mind.
25
First thing the next morning, when Callie asked Paul Locklear if he’d join the Within Our Reach softball team, she watched his expression very closely as she listed the others who’d already committed to playing. She was hoping he’d reveal just how deep his fascination with Terry was. Instead of eagerly jumping at the chance to spend a Saturday in Central Park with the object of his affections, however, Paul shook his head at once.
“Softball’s a little out of my league,” he said. “No pun intended.”
“You don’t have to be good,” Callie insisted, then added in total honesty, “At this point, I just need warm bodies to show up. We’ll put you way out in one of those field positions, where nobody hits the ball. At least, I hope nobody hits that hard. If I get enough people, you won’t even have to do that—you can direct. I mean, coach. Jeez, how did I get myself into this?”
“You sound desperate.”
“I am way past desperate,” she assured him.
He regarded her with amusement. “Okay, then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Thanks, Paul. You’re an angel.”
“Remember that the next time you want to strangle me because you don’t like the way I’m directing a scene.”
“I will,” she promised.
Heading back to her dressing room, she tried to make sense of his reluctance to get involved. Had Lindsay been wrong about his interest in Terry? Or was he simply worried about making a fool of himself in public, the way the rest of them were? Directors were rarely called on to make personal appearances, except to pick up awards. Maybe Paul was simply shy, especially out of his professional milieu.
Before she could reach any conclusions about that, one of the show’s gofers ran up to tell her she had a phone call.
“It’s some Mrs. Pennington,” the girl said. “She was quite adamant about speaking to you right now, even though I told her I thought you were in a meeting with the director. Sounds like she thinks she’s the Queen Mother, if you ask me. Do you know her?”
“No, but thanks, Cindy. I’ll take it.”
She picked up the extension closest to her dressing room. “Mrs. Pennington? This is Callie Smith. May I help you?”
“Ah, there you are. I was afraid that insolent young woman wasn’t going to give you the message, even though I told her it was extremely important.”
“Our staff is really very reliable,” Callie countered, already concluding that Mrs. Pennington, whoever she was, was a first-class bitch. “What can I do for you?”
“You can agree to have lunch with me, today if possible.”
It sounded more like an order than an invitation. “I’m sorry. Our shooting schedule doesn’t permit enough time for me to go
