Return to You by Kate Perry

might have been between the second and third year she
worked for him, the day she found the pictures hidden in his
desk.
    She hadn't been sure who they were, but the
fact that they were there, in an office otherwise devoid of
personal effects, showed how much they meant to him. It also showed
the loneliness he hid beneath his powerful exterior.
    The same loneliness she hid inside.
    Lainie smoothed her hair back into the
twist. Whatever inspired it, she was deeply and irrevocably in love
with Everett Parker.
    She just had to figure out what to do about
it.
    Wiping her face free of expression, she
grabbed her laptop and went downstairs. Everett waited for her in
the living room, sitting in an old, plush chair.
    Lainie straightened her skirt as she sat
down across from him. She readied herself for the meeting,
conscious of his gaze.
    She was braced when he said, "To tell you
the truth, Elaine, I'm surprised you went to Olivia's
boutique."
    "I'm not sure why you should be," she said
in her most offhand voice.
    "What did you think of her?"
    "Olivia's quite a business woman. She takes
one look at you and knows what to show you. Like she can see your
weakness."
    "And she pinpointed your weakness?"
    "Perfectly," she said crisply, not allowing
herself to analyze the overtones in the question. "She's astute and
charming. Quite like you, actually."
    "Hmm."
    Trying to ignore his unnerving scrutiny,
Lainie booted her laptop. "Her boyfriend seems quite enamored of
her as well."
    "Her boyfriend?"
    Lainie glanced up at the subtle edge in his
voice. "Yes. They look good together, both being so tall and
dark."
    "I see."
    Before she could say anything else, the
front door creaked open and Michael rushed in.
    Lainie liked Michael Wallace. He wasn't a
prima donna like a lot of the directors she had to deal with.
People often misinterpreted his attitude as being unreasonable, but
he knew his work and worked unfailingly to achieve the high ideals
he set for himself.
    "Parker," Michael said curtly, nodding in
greeting to her. He dropped down on the couch next to her and
leaned forward. "We have a problem."
    Lainie looked at her screen
and opened her notes on the project. Love
Unbound. The story of a burnt out actress
coming home. Finds herself and love in the boy she left behind. The
part of Angel to be played by Sophie Martineau.
    Lainie grimaced internally. Sophie wasn't
the most cooperative actress in Hollywood. It wouldn't surprise her
if the problem was Sophie.
    "Tell me," Everett said.
    "We need to find a new location to shoot the
movie. The crew arrives at the end of the week, and the production
schedule doesn't give us much leeway to dick around."
    "We're shooting here on Pembroke Farm."
Parker's tone brooked no argument.
    Michael stiffened. Lainie sympathized. It
couldn't be easy to have someone dictate your job to you.
    "It's not going to work here," Michael
insisted.
    "You'll have to make it work. Remember our
deal," Everett said softly.
    Lainie frowned. What deal? She didn't know
about any deal.
    "Fuck." Michael jumped up and began to
pace.
    Lainie looked back and forth between the two
men, wondering what was going on. She was missing something
here.
    The young director stopped abruptly and
faced their boss. "You can't do this to her. It's one thing
shooting a film in her hometown, but in her home too? What kind of
coldhearted bastard are you?"
    "What makes you think she'd care?" Everett
asked.
    "Of course she cares. If you think
otherwise, you don't know your daughter at all. Or maybe you just
don't care about her." Michael stormed out the front door, letting
it slam viciously.
    Now she knew who they were talking about,
but how did Michael know Olivia? And what was Everett up to?
    "Michael seemed a bit upset," she said
lightly, ignoring the sharp frown Everett turned on her.
    "He'll get over it."
    "I'm not sure I understand
why he's against shooting Love
Unbound here." She hoped she didn't sound
like she was fishing but, knowing Everett,