Page 54 of Crossing the Line
“I feel like I should be the one having the conversation with her,” she admitted. “She’s my responsibility. Not yours or Gwendolyn’s.”
Xavier shot her a look. “She’s your mother. She’s her own responsibility, maybe your father’s, and definitely Gwendolyn’s. That’s what the woman is paid to do.”
“But—”
“No buts. You are not responsible for her behavior, her drinking, or her choices. Stop trying to be.”
“Maybe we could lock her away in that cabin with no water or WIFI,” Waverly said wistfully.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The days before the premiere flew by in a blur. Waverly’s complaint with the police went, predictably, nowhere. And thanks to Gwendolyn’s master puppeteering, every major media outlet had picked up the story of her stalker scare. Not only was she getting sympathy points, the rumors about Xavier had dried up. Although, with the exposure, he’d now become a favorite with the paparazzi thanks to an insatiable female demographic, and his face was splashed across as many gossip sites as Waverly’s.
With Waverly ensconced at home and Xavier heading the Ganim investigation—and no longer sleeping on her couch—they barely saw each other except for short, daily catch-up sessions. Each was preparing for the premiere in their own way. Waverly and Kate worked with the dress designer, trainers, the studio’s publicity team, and spa staff leading up to the big day.
Xavier, meanwhile, had gone on the offensive. He’d called a meeting with Sylvia and Robert where he dropped the bomb that Sylvia’s tips to the tabloids and paparazzi had been how Ganim was able to track Waverly’s movements in L.A. It had led to an ugly scene between the couple. Xavier felt like a marriage counselor as he extracted a promise from each of them that it would never happen again.
Ganim had remained quiet and just out of reach.
One of Invictus’ research staff had hit a hot tip doing cold calls to motels. A man matching Ganim’s description had stayed there for four days, paying cash, but had checked out that very morning. The front desk clerk, whose only on-the-job excitement to-date had been the night the ice machine broke, had been only too happy to provide the alias and license plate number that Ganim had registered under. She even invited Invictus to search the room since the cleaners wouldn’t get to it for another hour.
What they’d found had warranted an actual visit from Detective Hansen. While most of the room had been wiped clean, an eagle-eyed tech had discovered traces of black powder on the rickety particleboard desk.
Black powder meant either ammunition or explosives. Neither was good. Hansen made no promises, but said he’d have some uniforms “look into it.”
Xavier had grimly increased the coverage to include Sylvia, Robert, and Kate. Everyone now had a driver and a guard.
He worked daily with event security for the premiere and coordinated with the LAPD officers who would be on duty at the event. He made sure every member of the team had memorized Les Ganim’s face and finally secured permission to have Invictus staff positioned in plainclothes throughout the crowd, on the carpet, and inside the theatre.
Two days before the premiere, Xavier had put the team to the test at the press junket. Invictus invaded the W Los Angeles hotel with exterior, lobby, and floor coverage, ensuring that no one could get to Waverly without first getting through Invictus.
He’d been impressed by Waverly before, but today he was captivated. She sat on a low leather couch in the presidential suite next to her co-star Liam MacGill, answering the same questions over and over again with sincerity. The interviews were scheduled in strict fifteen-minute increments, and reporters and bloggers cycled through the chairs across from the actors like clockwork. All the while, Xavier stood by, positioning himself between Waverly and whoever came through the door.
Between interviews, stylists freshened Waverly’s hair and make-up and Gwendolyn reviewed talking points with her. Phil spent most of the day on his phone answering emails and sneaking snacks off the food table.
“This whole BFF thing you guys are going for is falling a little flat,” Gwendolyn announced after a blogger left the room texting madly on her phone. “If you’re hell-bent on that angle, try punching up the pranks angle next time, bigger smiles, bigger eye rolls.”
Waverly made fake look so real that he was almost unnerved by it. She slipped behind her carefully crafted public façade so easily that Xavier felt like he was staring at a different woman. She could make people believe whatever it was she wanted them to. On camera, Waverly couldn’t live without her Bulgari sunglasses and her Seven jeans and her Crème de la Mer. Interview Waverly loved her protein smoothies and ate a strict fourteen hundred calorie diet. Public Waverly was not a tacos on the beach or motorcycle road trip kind of girl.
Waverly caught Xavier watching her and winked at him over her Perrier. He joined her at the long glass table the hotel’s catering staff had laden with every kind of celebrity food favorite imaginable.
“Who are you?” he asked her as she loaded up a plate with crudité and avocado hummus.
“It’s all about perception, X.” She wriggled her eyebrows at him. “Here.” She pressed a plate into his hands. “Eat.”
“I don’t need to eat.”
“It’s three in the afternoon, and we didn’t have lunch. I don’t need you getting lightheaded and faint when some bad guy breaks down the door.”
Xavier reluctantly tossed a burger slider on his plate. “Happy?”
“Eat it like a good boy.”
He took a bite, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh, my God. What is this?”
“Kobe beef,” Waverly grinned. “So what do you think?”
“I think I just put actual heaven in my mouth.”
