Harry had a grim look on his face and was holding a stack of papers in his arms. “What are those?” asked Flynn.
“Advance copies of tomorrow’sDaily Variety.” He handed them over to Flynn. “Thought you’d want to see them. We’re going to have end this little charade with the De Lesseps girl. Seems her sister is a real hellcat. This could ruin our efforts to repair your image entirely. We’ll have to get ahead of this. Can you have Dash call Walter at theReporterand ask him to run an item about how you and the girl have called it quits?”
Flynn only half listened as he scanned the headline on the front of the paper, and a trickle of dread ran down his spine.Legion of Decency Brass Attacked by Showgirl.He scanned the story below, fury replacing his fear.Stanley Devlin was at the annual sales dinner celebration for Shasta Peak Pictures when a drunken showgirlattacked him.Devlin. That bastard. His whole family was a bunch of bad apples. Flynn read on.“I was minding my own business enjoying my after-dinner digestif when the girl came at me with no warning. She dug her nails into my face and left quite a mark.”
A bizarre pride surged in him. Judy had held her own. But Devlin was twice her size. It was a miracle she hadn’t been hurt worse.
Thankfully, our boys in blue were only too happy to assist, and they arrested the girl. She has been identified as Judy Blount, sister to starlet Liv de Lesseps. She was held at $10,000 bail, but Blount’s bond was met by none other than Flynn Banks, who is reportedly making whoopee with her movie-star sister. “The girl might have a flush protector,” Devlin toldVariety. “But I intend to prosecute to the full extent of the law. And I’d suggest Evets’s Studios think twice about offering Miss De Lesseps a contract. If she’s anything like her little sister, she could prove to be a liability.”
Flynn’s blood was boiling now. The nerve of this man. To attack an innocent girl and then frame her as the aggressor when she didn’t welcome his advances! And Devlin was on a board that had deemedFlynn’sreputation a detriment to the moral health of American audiences. He was sick.
“This is a lie,” Flynn hissed. “All of it.”
Harry gave him a queer look. “I thought there might be more to the story, considering you bailed the girl out. Not exactly part of our agreement to clean up your act.”
“Judy did nothing wrong. It was Devlin who attacked her. He’s a pig. And I’m not turning my back on Livvy now. She helped me and you by agreeing to the whole publicity stunt. I’m not going to drop her like a hot potato because you’ve decided she’s morally inconvenient.”
Harry chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that this littlefaux romance has gotten to you.”
Flynn didn’t bother to answer that. Instead, he said, “We have to stop this. It can’t go to print. It will ruin Livvy. It will ruin both of them. And it’s a pack of lies.” A dozen scenarios raced through Flynn’s head. Livvy couldn’t lose her job at the studio. Without Judy’s income, it would be the only thing keeping the sisters afloat. But it was more than that. He thought back to their conversation on the deck only a few nights ago. How Livvy had said that acting was her new dream. Because of him. Livvy had said she was going to move back north after the picture finished, but he hoped he could convince her otherwise before they wrapped. For her own sake. She’d deprived herself of so much. He’d be damned if he was going to let anyone take this from her too. “I’m going to stand by her. We have to do everything we can to protect her.”
“While I’d rather not have the name of the studio’s new leading lady dragged through the mud,” interjected Harry, “I’m curious how you think we can head this off. I can getVarietyto hold it. But not for more than a few days. Stanley Devlin holds a lot of sway in this town. I might have power, but he has more.”
Flynn grimaced. “Yes, you had no trouble kowtowing to him when he threatened to not give my pictures a seal of approval.”
“You didn’t exactly make it easy to present a counterargument.” Harry huffed. “And no one will take your word over a man whose entire reputation is built on being one of the moral arbiters of motion pictures.”
Flynn crumpled the paper in his hand in frustration. There had to be some way to stop Devlin. “And if this does go to print? What will that mean for Livvy?”
Harry shrugged. “We’ll see if your picture with the girl is a success. If it is, I’ll sign her and tell her she has to cut ties with hersister. If it isn’t, we’ll cut her loose.”
Flynn saw red. Harry was going to make Livvy choose between Judy and her dreams. Again. Not on his watch. “You can’t do that. I thought when you and Joan muzzled Leda Price, we were done with this sort of thing.”
Harry chuckled. “Oh, Flynn, as long as there are eyes to read the gossip, there will be people to print it. Besides, this is more than hearsay. This is a powerful man making a very serious accusation.”
Flynn slammed his fist into his dressing room mirror and Harry jumped. A hairline crack spread beneath Flynn’s hand, and he braced himself against the makeup ledge. “I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to protect Livvy. If it costs me my career, so be it. But she and Judy are going to keep their dignity if I’ve got anything to say about it.”
With that, he reached for his sweater and stormed out, leaving Harry standing alone in the dressing room. It was a shame, really. If he’d stayed even a moment later, Flynn would’ve seen the studio boss start to laugh as Harry muttered under his breath, so no one could hear, “I’d always hoped you’d surprise me one of these days, Banks.”
***
Flynn peeled into his driveway, having raced home from the studio far above the speed limit, determined to get back to the peace of the sea and his library where he could think straight. But as he pushed through his front door and turned to descend the steps to the library, a voice he had not heard in years echoed from the foyer. “Is that any way to greet your mother after twenty-five years?”
Flynn stepped dead in his tracks. His mother in Malibu? Itcouldn’t be. She hadn’t left Paris since the night she had escaped. There, she had been safe from his father and his minions. The only way to get to America was via a ship from Southampton, which would’ve meant returning to England. So, he and his mother had corresponded only by letters. But his father was dead now. And she was here.
He turned to face her. Ready to deliver a witty quip about her long absence. But with one look at her face—timeworn and beautiful, radiant with happiness—something inside him broke. He released a guttural sob and flung himself into her arms, leaving her nonplussed and awkwardly patting his back. But soon it was as if he was a boy again. She held him tight and led him toward the library, where he’d been heading before he’d even known of her presence.
Half an hour later, his mother was installed in his favorite burnt-orange chair and he was sitting across from her on a stool as they sipped their tea in the library. He had recovered himself enough to try to get to the bottom of why his mother had turned up in his house with no warning after twenty-five years.
“So, let me get this straight. You came because you thought I was getting married?” He blew at the mug in his hand, trying to get his cup of Assam to cool down.
“Yes.” She gave him a knowing, close-lipped smile. “I must admit I was surprised, given your reputation. But then once I saw the girl in photographs in those fan magazines, I understood.”
Flynn shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But, Mother, I’m not getting married. I was never even engaged.”
“That’s not what Miss Powers said in her letter inviting me to your nuptials.”
Flynn dragged a hand down his face. Of course. Rhonda. She had brought his mother here? To what end? But he had to admithe was happy for it. Even if she’d traveled thousands of miles to attend a wedding that had never been anything more than a figment of Rhonda Powers’s imagination.
