Love's Last Chance Read online

  Johnny had assumed a beautiful, talented woman, heading off to make a movie would be scooped up by some guy right away. And she was, but by the wrong one. He had assumed she’d be married when the topic of the reunion came up with Drake. Drake hadn’t told Johnny that Dorrie kept up with him via email. So, when Johnny had refused to go, Drake had dropped the bomb about Dorrie still being single and coming to the reunion.

  Johnny could hardly wait to see her. The boat ride to the island had seemed to take forever as he planned what he’d say when he saw her. He’d be Mr. Cool. Never let her see how she’d hurt him, how much he’d missed her. But all the lines he came up with had faded away the minute he laid eyes on her.

  Time had seemed to stand still. It had been five years ago again, and he’d just had the most incredible night of his life then got shot down. His pulse had kicked up, breathing had become shallow, and he’d started to sweat. Exhilaration and pain had coursed through him. He fell for her again, hard.

  I knew she was it for me, right there on the dock. I had to win her. Johnny’s brow creased. He worried about how to get rid of Gunther Quill. Jerk-off’s trying to mess up my life. He was a powerful, magnetic, handsome, ruthless producer who could control her career. Johnny needed to tread lightly. Can’t just punch him out. Need to finesse this.

  But until he had to face Quill again, he’d enjoy every minute with Dorrie. He’d dreamed of this day for weeks. Waves of insecurity had swept over him from time-to-time. Dorrie hadn’t expressed her devotion to him in so many words. But he knew her heart from being with her. Hell, I know she’s not afraid to speak her mind. She’s no game player like some chicks. No phony, either. If she didn’t love me back, she’d say so.

  Finding a woman who could love him unselfishly, like Dorrie, had been as rare as snow in St. Thomas.

  His plan had taken a while to formulate and carry out. His brother, Sean, hadn’t been too keen on sending Johnny on a wild goose chase for love, at first. But when John had turned it into a business opportunity, Sean said that even if John got his heart broken, at least they’d open up the West Coast market.

  Johnny had laughed at Sean’s lack of confidence in his ability to win the heart of the woman of his choice. He smiled when he remembered their conversation.

  “Do I tell you how to make a solar battery?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Then don’t tell me how to win a woman.”

  The brothers had laughed and shook hands on the deal. He’d planned everything, down to every detail, researching the neighborhood, the restaurant, and the house—all had been a work of genius. But the one unforeseen glitch in his plan was Gunther Quill. John hadn’t expected to find a rival on the scene.

  When he managed to worm it out of Drake that Dorrie had decided not to return to New York to live with either Archer or Rick, Johnny’s prayers had been answered. Seems neither he nor Drake knew about Gunther being back in the picture.

  Johnny scratched his chin, wondering how he could defeat this new nemesis. Time to stop scheming. No plans. Honesty. I love her, and she loves me. We have good history. This guy doesn’t have a chance against true love. He had his chance with her and blew it. No second chances. I’m here now, and I’m taking over. Dorrie is mine. Gunther’d better find himself another woman.

  His resolve to eliminate the rival he called Dracula hardened. A sense of calm flowed through him. She’s mine. I’ve won her fair and square. No one can break our bond. It’s too strong. I hope. His confidence faltered for a moment, but then he thought back to how much they had meant to each other on Fire Island, five years ago, and now. He smiled as she bowed to him when the music ended. He applauded.

  “I’m tired.” She leaned back against the barre.

  “Let’s go to bed…wife.” He extended his hand to her.

  “Wife? Oh, God, that sounds wonderful,” she whispered, lacing her fingers with his.

  When they returned to the bedroom, Dorrie slipped in first, then Johnny.

  “This is something new for us,” he said, lying down and extending his arm.

  Dorrie scooted over, cuddling up to him, resting her palm on his bare chest. “What?”

  “Spending the night together in a large, comfortable bed…”

  “With sheets instead of sand?” She giggled.

  “A dream come true,” he muttered, kissing her forehead and tucking her into his shoulder. Dorrie rolled onto her side and snaked her arm around his waist.

  “I guess wishes can come true.”

  “Happy?” he asked, closing his eyes.

  “Delirious,” she muttered softly. Dorrie held up her hand, fingers spread. The ring caught the faint light from the moon and glittered. He watched her admire the stone. She’s mine, really mine. Wearing my ring and loving it. Game, set, match, Dracula.

  * * * *

  Dorrie’s cell phone woke the lovers up. She cracked an eye to peer at the screen.

  “Chaz and Meg. Damn, don’t they know what time it is?”

  “It’s ten actually,” Johnny piped up, rubbing his eyes.

  Dorrie answered in a sleepy voice then paused before saying, “Johnny. Who won?” Dorrie listened. “Really? And the winner gets?” She chuckled. “Aw, come on, tell me.” Again silence. “I get it. I will.” After a few minutes of conversation that made no sense to John, Dorrie laughed and hung up. “What was that about?”

  “Chaz and Megan had a bet about the guy I was going to end up with.”

  “Oh?” His eyebrows met on his forehead. “Did anyone bet on me?”

  “Meg did. Chaz bet on…Arch…the other guy.”

  “Bless Meg. She has good taste. Why’d she pick me?”

  “She said because we fought all the time. She said that meant it was true love.”

  Johnny cracked up.

  “But she wouldn’t tell me what the prize was. What do you think?” She turned to look at him.

  “I think I’m glad I won, and that I have a great idea for a prize.” He folded her in his arms, threw the covers off the bed, and pulled her underneath him.

  Dorrie and Johnny were together from that day on. He worried every day that she spent working with Gunther. The producer pulled out all the stops to win her. He sent her flowers. His limousine picked her up in the morning, with him inside. He had coffee waiting.

  When Johnny protested, Gunther admitted Dorrie wore Johnny’s ring, so what could John be worried about? But he was worried, worried plenty. Quill isn’t the kind of guy to take losing graciously. He wants Dorrie, but he doesn’t love her. She’s become a trophy to him. How can I tell her without it looking like sour grapes? I can’t.

  Johnny picked her up every evening from the studio. Even when his work wasn’t done, he refused to leave Dorrie alone there in the evenings when Gunther might make a play for her. He brought reports home and set up on the dining room table. While he was preoccupied, he could hear her trying out routines in the studio on the third floor. Although he’d comment how happy they were together, Gunther’s shadow never seemed to leave. It made Johnny uneasy. He knew a showdown was inevitable.

  Then it happened. Johnny showed up at Quill’s office half an hour early. Dorrie’s meeting had already broken up. Gunther was alone with her. Johnny let himself in and caught them. Gunther had his arms around her, kissing her neck. It appeared that Dorrie was trying to push him off.

  “Gunther! Get away!” she hollered, as Johnny strolled through the conference room door.

  “What the hell?” Johnny stopped in his tracks.

  “Johnny! This isn’t…it’s nothing.”

  “It’s Gunther being overbearing and not respecting boundaries,” her fiancé said through gritted teeth.

  Dorrie let out a breath. He saw relief on her face. No, sweetheart. I don’t suspect you of anything. He’s the monster here, not you. I know you too well.

  Rage broke loose in John’s heart. He moved quickly, fisting Gunther’s shirt and immobilizing the suave man. Johnny was bigger, but
not by much. His anger fueled his strength. He slammed the interloper up against the wall and held him there.

  “That’s the last time you lay hands on my fiancée, buddy, get it?” Johnny snarled through clenched teeth.

  Gunther paled as Johnny lifted a fist to the producer’s face. “I mean it. You don’t want me to mess up that pretty face, do you?”

  “I’ll never let her go,” Gunther spit back.

  “You’re asking for it.”

  “And you’re going to give it to me?” Gunther cocked an eyebrow at John.

  “That’s right. Starting now, unless you back off.”

  Dorrie’s mouth fell open. She pulled Johnny back. “Let me speak, John,” she whispered. He let go and moved away.

  “Gunther, please. You say you love me, but you’re not willing to commit to an exclusive relationship. Johnny is. He came out here, maneuvered his boss into letting him set up an office here, just to be with me. He found a special house just for me. And most important, he’s pledged his eternal love with a promise of marriage, including a lovely engagement ring. Please…please…if you really do love me, let me go.”

  As he straightened his tie, pulled his jacket around so it fit right, and smoothed his shirt, Gunther listened to Dorrie. Johnny saw the man’s eyes soften as he peered at her. I almost think he does love her. At least a little.

  There was a long silence as Gunther looked at Dorrie first, then at John then back at Dorrie again. “I suppose…she has chosen you. I mean, she’s wearing your ring. A man ought to respect that, I guess.”

  “Ya think?” John cocked an eyebrow at him. “It’s almost the same as being married.”

  Gunther put up his hand. “Okay, okay. I get it. She’s yours. You win. Take good care of her.”

  Dorrie kissed him on the cheek, but he brushed her aside. “Amy! Amy! Where the hell are you?”

  The mousy assistant hurried into the room. “Amy, we were missing the audience projections for the first thirteen weeks. Dammit! I told you we needed those.”

  “Yes, Mr. Quill. I’ve got them here.” Her hand shook slightly as she handed the papers to her boss.

  “It’s about time!” Gunther’s face grew pink as he glowered at Amy. The girl seemed to shrink right in front of their eyes.

  “Gunther,” Dorrie warned, putting her hand on his sleeve. But it was too late. Amy burst into tears and fled the room. Dorrie shot him an angry glance.

  “All right. I know. I’m a vicious beast. I’m firing that girl. Probably doing her a favor. She isn’t up to this job.”

  “Who will you hire? Attila the Hun?”

  “There must be a bright, young, attractive woman out there who is competent, intelligent, and efficient.”

  “How will you manage between the time you fire Amy and you hire Superwoman?” Dorrie asked.

  “Oh, I’m not going to fire Amy. Like I told you before, I’m going to tell her we’re looking for an assistant for her. Then, when we find the right women, I’ll fire Amy, and the new girl can take over.”

  Both Dorrie and John gasped at the same time. “You’re going to make Amy find her own replacement?”

  “That’s cold,” Johnny commented.

  “If you put it that way, it sounds bad.”

  “That’s the way it is. What other way could you put it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I can’t be without an assistant, even for one day. So this will have to be the way it is. If that makes me evil, then so be it.”

  “How could you ever consider marrying this guy?” Johnny asked.

  Dorrie made a motion for him to be quiet.

  “I heard that. I’m not deaf, you know.” He cocked an eyebrow at Johnny.

  “Gunther, go apologize to Amy.”

  “Are you in your right mind? Apologize? Me?”

  “Do you want her to quit?”

  “Oh my God, no! Okay, okay, I get it. Amy!” he called as he left the room.

  “I’m insulted that you even considered him over me,” Johnny said.

  “I never considered him over you. It’s all in his mind. Gunther is…a unique individual.”

  “Thank God there aren’t more of him.” John shook his head.

  Dorrie laughed then kissed him. “Come on, let’s go home.”

  “Home, with you. Sounds great.” He smiled and took her hand.

  “We’ve got to plan our wedding.”

  Johnny stopped. His stomach cramped for a second. “Wedding plans?”

  “Of course. We are going to have a wedding.”

  “If you say so. Vegas and eloping was beginning to look pretty good to me.”

  “I want to stand up in front of our friends and the world when I become Mrs. John Flanagan.”

  He beamed. “Mrs. John Flanagan. Sounds great. Whatever you want.”

  “I thought you’d see it my way.”

  He drew her close, slipping his arm around her shoulders, as they headed for the parking lot and their new life together.

  * * * *

  Epilogue

  “Did we get any responses to our ‘help wanted’ ad, Amy?” Gunther asked as he flipped through the day’s mail.

  “A few. I’ll take them home and weed out the bad ones.”

  “Remember, I’m looking for someone smart. Preferably a girl who went to a fancy, private college. Like Smith, Barnard, or Wellesley. No state school chicks, please.”

  “Chicks? You’re not going to call them chicks, Mr. Quill, are you?”

  “Of course not. Just to you. Get the best pedigree you can and discard the rest. I don’t care if we only interview a few, if they meet my qualifications.”

  “Fine. Do you want me to interview them first?”

  “Of course. Then you can weed out the actresses. Be sure not to ask them directly. Hint at it. Do they think acting is fun? Would they ever want to be in a movie? I definitely don’t want any actresses in here!”

  “Why not?”

  “Wannabe actresses come in here thinking they can make a bunch of contacts, use me as a stepping stone to further their career. Fuck that. I want someone who wants to make a career of being my right hand.”

  “Okay. Got it. No actresses.”

  “And pretty, too.”

  “You’re skirting very close to sexual harassment.”

  “Why? Because I’d prefer to spend my day looking at a pretty girl than a…not so pretty one?”

  Anger at his insult burned in her chest. You don’t have to try to hide it. I know how you feel about me, and that you think I’m ugly. You’ve made it very plain.

  “Just find me the perfect girl, Amy, and there’s a five-thousand-dollar bonus in it for you.”

  “Five grand?” She shrugged.

  “Not big enough?” His glance turned cold.

  “That’s very generous.” Amy shuffled her feet and cast her gaze to the floor.

  “All right. Make it ten. But this girl had better be a star…I take that back. No actresses. She’d better be damn good.” He strode out of the room.

  Amy ground her teeth. Why can’t you ever leave a room like a normal person? You always have the last word…the last laugh. But not this time, Mr. Gunther ‘full-of-yourself’ Quill. A small smile graced her lips. I’m going to have my revenge, and you’ll never even know it. Amy packed up a fistful of applications and resumes into her briefcase and left the building. She stopped at the liquor store to buy a bottle of Moscato before returning home.

  While waiting for the clerk to wrap up her purchase, Amy texted her roommate.

  Home soon. Be ready to celebrate.

  Amy stretched her arms up before getting in her car. The tension was gone. Relaxation mixed with revenge created a heady cocktail.

  When she first arrived home, Amy toed off her ridiculously high heels that Gunther insisted she wear to work. Sinking down on the sofa, she sighed. Her roommate, Erica Wheeler, brought in two glasses. Amy poured the wine.

  “He’s going to fire me.”

  “R
eally? How do you know that?” Erica asked.

  “He’s stupid enough to ask me to hire an assistant who will work for me and thinks I haven’t figured out I’m hiring someone to take my job. ‘Lighten my load’ he said. Hah, liar! Hire my replacement is more like it.”

  “Oh, no! He wouldn’t do that, would he?”

  “Gunther Quill? I doubt there’s anything he wouldn’t do.”

  “He can’t be that bad.”

  “You’ve heard me complain about him for a year. And you still ask me that?” Amy raised her eyebrows.

  “I know you’ve never liked the job. It’d be perfect for me.”

  “I thought you had a modeling gig?” Amy held the glass to her lips.

  “I did until the photographer grabbed me. I quit.”

  “Wonderful!” Amy bolted upright, her energy renewed. “You’re right. You’d be perfect for the job.”

  “Oh, no. Not me. I’m going to be an actress, not an assistant.” Erica shook her head.

  “You’d make all the contacts you need, and more, to land a great movie role. Trust me.”

  “But you said he’s a monster.”

  “He is. Do you want to act?”

  She nodded.

  “Then his office is the place to be. Gunther is going places, and you’d go right along with him.”

  “When can I interview?”

  “Two problems. He won’t hire an actress, and you went to Kensington State, not Smith.”

  “Oh, he’s one of those. Needs a fancy school, does he?” Erica raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. But we could fake your resume.”

  “That’s lying.”

  Amy turned to face Erica and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Do you want to act or not? Not everything is honest and above board in life, Erica. Grow up. That’s one thing I’ve learned, working for Gunther.”