Page 54 of A Star is Scorned

Flynn pulled his roadster into the steep driveway that led to Stanley Devlin’s Hollywood Hills home.

“Good God, that’s ugly.” Dash whistled in disgust at the Gothic monstrosity that rose up between them. The stone house loomed at the top of a hill with gargoyles atop every pillar.

“All it needs is a drawbridge,” Flynn quipped.

Dash chuckled. Flynn had called his best friend and asked him to come as moral support.

And to prevent him from committing murder.

Flynn had no idea how tonight was going to go, but he did know it was a terrible idea to face Devlin alone.

In his rearview mirror, the sun was setting over the ocean in the distance, and it cast the gray stone of the house in a yellow light that made the entire structure look like it was emanating a strange illness.

He pulled in front of the garage, and he and Dash hopped out. Dash shivered and buttoned his coat as a brisk wind swept around them.

Flynn looked at his pal. “Thanks for coming, mate.”

“Look, you dried me out when Joan broke my heart; it’s the least I could do.”

Flynn grinned. “Eh, nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”

Dash shrugged, but Flynn noticed a slight upward crook at the edges of his mouth.

The house was quiet and seemed nearly deserted, so Flynn blew on his knuckles. “Here goes nothing,” he huffed and rapped on the door. It swung open with an eerie creak almost instantly, and he exchanged a look with Dash. “You think Devlin’s a vampire?”

Dash shuddered and made the sign of the cross as a butler emerged from the shadows.

“Mr. Devlin is expecting you.” The man was stone-faced, and he immediately turned on his heel, disappearing back into the dark hallway.

Dash gestured to say, After you, and Flynn stepped over the threshold. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, and he took in the long, narrow hallway lined with old masters’ paintings. The butler had opened a door at the end of the hall, and Flynn cracked his knuckles, ready for a fight.

“Come in, Banks,” Devlin called out. The man’s slimy drawl made Flynn’s skin crawl. His stomach turned, thinking of how terrified Judy must have been with this creature descending upon her.

He took a breath, tugged down the edges of his sport coat, and stepped in the room. Dash followed on his heels.

“Ah,” drawled Devlin. “You brought your fellow miscreant.”

“Yes, well, recent incidents suggest no one should be caught out alone with you.”

Devlin smirked. “I see Judy Blount has gotten to you.”

“She didn’t tell me a damn thing,” retorted Flynn. “I saw the headlines you’ve been planting, and I realized immediately what had happened. That girl never would have attacked you unprovoked.”

“Take a seat, Banks. Mr. Howard.”

Flynn looked at his friend and Dash nodded toward the chair, signaling for him to sit first. Flynn preferred to stand, but he pulled out the stiff leather chair opposite Devlin’s desk and sat on the very edge. Dash plunked down into the chair next to him.

“I assume Miss Blount asked you to visit me,” Devlin said.

“She has no idea I’m here. I came because I won’t stand idly by while you try to ruin Judy and Livvy.”

Devlin turned so the low light in the room caught the side of his face, and Flynn choked back a gag at what he saw. Four thin lines ran from Devlin’s temple down his cheek to the edge of his mouth. The wounds were still bright red around the edges, and Flynn thought one of them was oozing pus.

“Miss Blount’s handiwork,” Devlin spat out.

“Too bad she didn’t get both sides,” Flynn retorted.

Dash quietly put his hand out and grabbed Flynn’s knee, reminding him to keep hold of himself.

“I’m not going to let you run that story.”

Devlin grinned, showing off all his teeth like a lion licking its chops. “And just how do you plan to stop me?”

This was the part where Flynn had to bluff. “Name your price.”

“Hah. You English aristocrats think your money is worth more because it comes with a title. Look around you, Mr. Banks. I don’t need your cash.”

“Come now, Devlin, be reasonable,” interrupted Dash. “At least hear out Flynn’s offer.”

“What is there to hear? He doesn’t have anything I want. Unless he can get me the girl.”

Flynn gripped the arm of the chair, digging his nails into the dark wood. It was that or belt Devlin across the face. “You will never touch her again.”

Devlin laughed, a cold, high, unnatural sound. “You seem to have confused yourself with the heroes you play on screen. I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

Flynn jumped out of his chair, but Dash grabbed the back of his jacket. “Easy, Flynn, easy.”

“Tsk, tsk, Banks. Short temper, have we?”

Flynn sat down and crossed his arms over his chest. “When someone talks about a dame like that, yeah.”

“You’re telling me you’re a Boy Scout?” Devlin sneered.

“No. But I’ve never ignored a lady when she said no. That’s a line I don’t cross. No decent man would.”

Devlin rolled his eyes. “So noble. The girl was asking for it, wearing that skimpy little outfit, cavorting around on the stage like that. That’s the cost of a Hollywood career, and she knew that.”

“No, she didn’t,” Flynn growled. “She was terrified and just trying to do her job.”

“Her job was to entertain the guests.” Devlin picked a bit of dirt from under his nails and flicked it in Flynn’s direction. “So I’d say refusing me was dereliction of her duties.”

Flynn grabbed the chair so fiercely, he felt it crack under his hand. Dash gave him a look and hissed, “Flynn, pull it together.”

“Fine. You don’t want my money. What do you want then? I’ll give you anything if you promise to kill the story and leave Judy and Livvy alone. Print anything you want about me, but those girls are blameless and they’re gonna stay that way.”

Devlin scratched at his chin, making a show of it.

“Interesting. What a strange position I find myself in—a carte blanche offer from Flynn Banks. I’m sure there are many in town who would kill for such a bargain.

” He smirked, and Flynn grimaced. The man truly was despicable.

“I don’t need money, true. But I’m tired of presiding over the studios indirectly, helping Hays and Breen keep morally objectionable content off-screen. ”

“Considering your morally objectionable behavior off-screen, I can see why that wouldn’t satisfy you,” Flynn quipped.

Devlin sneered at him. “The swashbuckler is trying his hand at becoming the comic, I see. Terrible jokes aside, you’re right.

Pulling strings from the Hays office isn’t enough.

But it just so happens my sister-in-law has a controlling stake in Shasta Peak Pictures.

And if I were to do something to make her happy, well, she might be tempted to sign it over to me. ”

Flynn grit his teeth. “Get on with it then.”

Devlin smiled at him, a shark circling its prey. “There are few things that would please her more than to see her daughter happily married.”

“Rhonda,” Flynn huffed out, realizing where Devlin was going.

“Rhonda,” Devlin agreed.

Dash looked back and forth between the two men, seemingly not understanding what they were talking about. Funny, Flynn thought, when he never would have met the woman if she hadn’t turned up at Dash and Joan’s house party.

Flynn had vowed to never marry. And he’d never met a woman who had tempted him to change his mind.

Until Livvy. But now Livvy wanted nothing to do with him, and all he could offer her was protection.

He could sacrifice himself to keep her and Judy safe from the lies of Stanley Devlin.

It wasn’t exactly what his mother meant by choosing joy.

In fact, it was the complete opposite. But it was the only card he had left to play. It was that simple, really. “Fine.”

Devlin’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

“If you promise to leave Judy and Livvy alone. To kill the story. And never so much as blink in their direction again.”

Devlin extended his hand, and Flynn reluctantly took it, grimacing as the man’s sweaty palm clenched his. Under different circumstances, he would’ve laughed at Devlin’s aggressive show of manliness. It was pathetic, really.

Devlin chuckled darkly. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Would someone mind telling me just what the hell is going on?” Dash interjected.

“I’m going to marry Rhonda Powers,” Flynn gritted out.

“Flynn, no!”

Flynn put his hand up. “Don’t try to talk me out of it, Dash. I told Mr. Devlin I’d give him anything he wanted—and marrying his niece is what he wants. I have no choice.”

“Surely there’s something else. He could…produce your next film? Buy your house for a song?”

Devlin stood up, placing his hands flat on the desk. “He let me set the terms, and these are my terms. Now, if you gentleman would excuse me, I have to call my sister-in-law and let her know the happy news.”

Flynn knew when he’d been dismissed, and he stood, practically dragging Dash out of the room with him as Devlin called after him, “May you never know a moment’s peace with the girl, Banks.”

Dash was still gaping at Flynn, his head swiveling between Flynn and Devlin. “But, but—”

“Let’s go, Dash.”

Flynn managed to get them out the front door, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the molding in the process.

The fresh air seemed to awaken something in Dash, who took off the second he was outside and sprinted to the roadster to block Flynn from the driver door.

“I don’t think you should drive. You must be off your nut. It’s the only explanation.”

Flynn tugged at his friend. “Ha-ha, very funny. Move.”

Dash leaned forward and sniffed Flynn. “I’m serious. What have you had to drink today?”

Flynn shoved Dash a little, now genuinely annoyed. “Come off it. I’ve never been more sober in my life.”

Dash looked at him, searching his face, before Dash’s body curled in disappointment and he moved aside. “How could you agree to that?”

“Because it was the only way to keep her safe. To make sure Devlin doesn’t launch a vendetta against two innocent young women.”

“But the studio… Surely Harry could call one of his fixers, and they could—” Flynn opened his door and gestured for Dash to slide across the bench seat and get in before him. Dash did, burying his face in his hands. “There has to be another way.”

“No one could get that story killed. Harry stalled them for a few days, but that was the best he could do. I’m the only one who can stop it.”

“But—” Dash threw his head back against the seat and looked up at the sky. Flynn hoped he wasn’t asking God for an answer, because he was fairly certain he’d worn out any goodwill he had with the man upstairs a long time ago. “Flynn, you don’t love Rhonda. Hell, you don’t even like her.”

Flynn turned the key in the ignition, desperate to return to the familiar confines of his Malibu home, the relaxing splash of the waves on the sand, and his well-stocked bar cart.

Though there was the small problem of having to admit to his mother what he’d just done.

“No, I don’t like Rhonda.” He turned his head behind him as he backed out of the driveway.

“But I’m doing this because I love Livvy. ”

He hadn’t said it before. Hadn’t even dared to think it really.

But sitting in that office while Devlin stared him down and relished the way Flynn wriggled like a fish caught on his hook, he had known.

He’d known it before too, when his mother had shown him what an idiot he’d been all these years.

But he hadn’t realized the depths to which he would go for her until he was cornered. He would do anything for Livvy.

He wished he’d told her when he still had the chance. Wished he’d realized sooner. But that was his misfortune. For once, he was choosing to be responsible, choosing to take care of someone else over his own happiness. It was simple—he loved Olivia Blount, so he had to marry Rhonda Powers.