Page 20 of Just Like in the Movies

‘I don’t know who you think you are,’ she launched into her speech, only to have him interrupt her.

‘But I’m sure you’re about to tell me.’

‘And I have absolutely no clue why Matty gifted you half of a cinema that he adored and which you clearly could not give a single toss about …’ She continued riding roughshod over the cynicism in his tone.

Doesn’t matter Rubes, pearls before swine, kiddo.

‘But that cinema, and more importantly that man, meant everything to me.’ For one horrific moment, she could feel her eyes stinging and sunk her teeth into her tongue to force back the tide. Steadying her breathing and bringing the moisture back in-house she carried on, somewhat vindicated when Mr Snotty didn’t interrupt her again. He seemed momentarily struck dumb in the face of her emotion – clearly he was one of those guys who thought a woman’s tears had the power to slice off his testicles – well, good, all the better to flail him with.

‘Matty was kind and generous, an amazing teacher and a really bloody good laugh, and even when he was dying he knew how to bring down the house. And people meant something to him. People and making them feel good. Which was why he poured so much love and passion into a movie house that never made any money. Why he took me under his wing when he really couldn’t afford an assistant. And why I’d dance naked through Hyde Park scattering his ashes over the nearest policeman if that’s what he’d asked me to do. And why you can’t lift a finger to him, with your two-thousand-dollar suit and your pricey haircut and your humungous bank balance and your sexy cologne.’ Shit, did I just say sexy cologne? She breathed in a breath of said sexy cologne – sandalwood with hints of orange. Sod it, at least she was honest. ‘And that huge stick stuck so far up your bum I’m surprised it doesn’t give you lock jaw.’

She finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

Well, that had certainly wiped the cynicism off his face. The frown had disappeared, to be replaced with … well, nothing.

Mr Snotty had turned into a sphinx. She’d struck him dumb with her big parting speech. Just like Sally when she finally came clean about her feelings for Harry.

Not that she had any feelings for this jerk other than disgust. However much he might look like the man who’d fathered him.

‘Have a nice flight, Mr Devlin, and a nice boring conventional life,’ she said, all politeness. ‘I’ll be in touch with your assistant in the next quarter with your share of the profits from The Royale.’

And there would be profits, even if she had to work double shifts and open the cinema to the events management company who had been knocking down their door for the last year. If they had to close their doors in three months’ time she intended to keep Matty’s dream alive to the bitter end.

Because she had a heart. And however bruised and battered it felt right now, however fatally wounded, as she marched out of Devlin’s suite, she knew it had to be better than having no heart at all.

***

Shit!

Luke listened to the outer door of the suite slam shut and carried on packing.

Do not go after her. This is not your issue. She’s fine. She’ll survive, even if she does get busted. They’ll take pity on her. She’s grieving. She may also be hammered. You have a plane to catch. You do not have time to give a shit.

But his hands began to shake as he unplugged his phone charger from the wall and stuffed it into the bag’s front pocket.

And the look on Ruby Graham’s face, all fierce and furious and heartbroken, made his heart crash into his tonsils.

This is not your mess to fix.

He shouldn’t have deliberately tried to antagonise her. It had seemed a good strategy when she’d walked in with her urn. He’d figured it was by far the best way to persuade her he really was the emotionless property developer he appeared to be. He didn’t want to give her any more false hope. But he had been way too convincing. So convincing he felt like a Grade A asshat right about now.

Ruby Graham had just had her life kicked into touch.

And yeah, the theatre was not his mess to fix. And she needed to know that. But maybe this side mess was?

Swearing furiously under his breath, he found his boots, stamped them on, then charged out of the hotel room after her. Whipping his cell out of his pocket as he headed down the hall, he texted his assistant Gwen to rebook his flight for tomorrow morning.

He knew he was going to regret this. But he couldn’t let Ruby Graham go out into the night alone, to scatter her best friend’s ashes, looking as if she’d just been punched in the stomach.

Because the person who’d punched her in the stomach was him.

Chapter 4

‘Bugger, bugger, bugger.’ Ruby’s toes slipped on the rain-slick railings as she slung her hand over the bar and heaved. Her upper body strength was non-existent though, and two seconds later she was dropped back on to her feet on the wrong side of the park gate. For the tenth time. She was never going to get into the Serpentine section of the park. Why hadn’t she thought this through? The bloody gated area was over eight-foot high. She should have bought a step ladder.

‘Fuck a duck!’ she murmured, feeling defeated. And hating it.

‘I certainly wouldn’t advise that or you’re sure to get busted.’ The laconic comment – in a far too familiar American accent – gave her such a shock she let out a small shriek.

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