by Lisa Daniels
“Hey,” Cypress said, ignoring Val’s question as he approached her.
“Hey, Cy,” Rowan purred, sashaying over to him, but Graciela knew he was there for her. She cringed, knowing that Rowan wouldn’t handle that realization well.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He didn’t seem to notice that Rowan was staring at him with heavy, unfocused eyes.
I’m going to need to get her agent on the phone. If she ODs here, that will be the end of the show—even before it starts.
It wasn’t a kind thought and Graciela knew that Rowan had a serious drug problem which needed addressing, but the singer didn’t want to be helped. She had made that clear dozens of times. All Graciela could do was assess damage control and keep the stars in line to the best of her ability. It was like babysitting the wildest, most deranged toddlers in the world. Her job was to ensure none of them died on her watch.
“Ms. Kinrade?” Cypress insisted and Graciela realized she hadn’t answered his question. In fact, she had been too busy staring at his face again to even remember what he’d asked.
“Sorry?”
“Can I have a private word with you?” he asked again and Graciela looked around helplessly.
“Hey!” Val yelled. “What are you doing? We need to get that bit filmed.”
Graciela shrugged and nodded toward the director.
“You heard him,” she muttered, her ears burning hot under his stare. How could his gaze seem even more intense now?
“He can wait two seconds,” Cypress replied, putting a strong hand on her shoulder to guide her away from the bustle of the studio. Unsurprisingly, Rowan tried to follow, but Cypress stopped her.
“Not you,” he growled. Disbelief colored her face.
“Why not?” she demanded, but Cypress was already pulling Graciela away, leaving Rowan to gape after them, daggers shooting from her eyes.
“If this is about Ms. Woods—” Graciela started to say, but Cypress shook his head.
“It’s not. It’s about how we left things last night.”
Her pulse quickened, but she maintained a look of stoicism on her face.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.
He grimaced. “Playing coy doesn’t really suit you,” he told her frankly and Graciela blushed.
“I’m not playing coy,” she replied shortly. “I really don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean that I was rude to you. I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot and I wanted to apologize.”
It was impossible for Graciela to keep her face impassive after that and she blinked several times. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting in the least.
“I-I still don’t know what you mean,” she managed to choke. She was being apologized to by Cypress Landry. In the flesh. And he meant it.
“You do. Not that it was an excuse, but it had been a long day and honestly, I thought you were attacking me. I realized afterward that I’d misread the situation and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Graciela raised her head in wonderment, unsure of how to answer.
“I-it’s fine,” she mumbled quickly. “I’m sorry I made you feel attacked.”
He laughed and shook his head, but before he could speak, Val howled for him to rejoin the stage again.
“Time is money!” the director insisted. “I shouldn’t have to do this with you, Landry! You should know better!”
“I also want to apologize for something in advance,” Cypress told her, leaning in closer. Graciela caught a whiff of his enticing pheromones, mixed with the spicy scent of his aftershave. She had to admit that she missed the scruff he’d sported the previous day, but that morning, everyone had been vetted through hair and makeup.
“In advance?” she echoed. “What’s that?”
“I might end up going completely postal before we wrap this show.”
“That makes two of us,” Graciela laughed, nodding in agreement. “Maybe we should make a pact to do it on the same day. The courts might show us leniency.”
“We could argue there was something in the water?”
“That’s the spirit!”
“LANDRY!” Val bellowed. “GET IN POSITION!”
“He’s going to pop a vein in his head,” Cypress told her. “He’s a smoker—a stroke is inevitable.”
“That’s a good observation,” Graciela conceded. “You probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“How would you feel about having dinner with me after we’re done today?”
Shock and heat swept over Graciela like a tsunami.
“What?” she sputtered.
“Dinner? It’s the meal you’re supposed to have in the evening. Most people call it the third one of the day but something tells me you’re not most people and probably don’t eat until dinnertime normally—if at all.”
He looked appraisingly at her figure and Graciela was sure her face was almost purple with embarrassment.
“Uh…”
“LANDRY! So help me God, if I have to come over there…!”
Cypress rolled his eyes, unmoved by Val’s threat. He was waiting for Graciela’s response.
“Please?”
Her heart was hammering in her ears. Cypress Landry was asking her out on a date… or was he?
He probably just means it as a working dinner, she tried to rationalize, but the look in his eyes did not depict an iota of professionalism.
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Cypress said, the spark disappearing from his eye. “Of course you’re probably busy with your boyfriend or something.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Graciela replied quickly. “And I’d love to have dinner with you.”
A smile immediately reappeared on his face and he nodded happily.
“Great. I’ll meet you at my dressing room.” He winked sexily. “Don’t worry, I’ll shower before we go.”
Oh, please don’t! Graciela wanted to say, but to her relief, she managed to keep her mouth shut.
Cypress Landry had asked her out on a date. A real date—with food and everything. He had apologized to her for being a jerk.
I must be dreaming. I’m going to wake up alone in my bed as I do every morning, encumbered in disappointment.
But as Cypress strode away, leaving Graciela to stare at his perfectly sculpted butt cheeks, she knew this was no dream.
“You’ll leave him alone if you know what’s good for you.”
Graciela didn’t have to turn to know who was hissing at her side. In her semi-delirium, she hadn’t realized the singer had snuck over to eavesdrop on her conversation with Cypress.
“Who is your agent again?” Graciela asked, barely looking at the singer. The exec knew she was going to have to do something about the redhead before Rowan got too out of control. If her agent couldn’t wrangle her in, Graciela was going to have to end her contract.
Not because I’m jealous, she told herself quickly, although to whom she was justifying the action, she couldn’t say. But because she’s going to cause too many problems for everyone on set.
Especially Cypress.
“Did you hear what I said?” Rowan growled. To Graciela’s amazement, Rowan grabbed her arm, her fingers tightening like vice grips against her.
“You need to get your hands off me right now,” Graciela told her in a cold, even tone. “Before you find yourself escorted out of this studio permanently.”
The women held each other’s gazes, but whatever Rowan saw in Graciela’s eyes seemed to make her reconsider her actions and she released her hold instantly.
“You need to go sleep off whatever you’re on,” Graciela told her through clenched teeth. “If you want to stay on this show, Ms. Woods, I recommend that you stop stirring up trouble.”
Shockingly, the words only seemed to cause Rowan great amusement and she leaned her dark red head of hair closer, her eyes flashing.
“And I recommend that if you value your life, Graciela, you’ll stay the hell awa
y from Cypress Landry.”
Chapter Five
Check and Mates
Cypress glanced at the time on his iPhone for the tenth time, it seemed, and then back out toward the open door of his dressing room. Graciela must have been detained and he was determined not to show impatience, but they’d been done filming for a while now.
Did she forget or is she blowing me off? Or is she really just in the middle of something else?
He didn’t want to go looking for her, lest it was the latter. If she was busy, the last thing she would need was someone breathing down her neck.
It would be a bad way to start a first date, he reasoned, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
How can I know that? I don’t know her at all.
But he felt like he did, like he had always known her.
Like I’ve been searching for her my whole life.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Rowan asked, entering his dressing room uninvited. “You look lost.”
“I’m just on my way out, Row.” He gathered his belongings, hoping with futility that she would take the hint.
“Where are you going tonight?” she asked, stepping directly into his path. “Another meeting with your lawyer?”
He was mildly surprised she had remembered his excuse from the previous night. Maybe she wasn’t as high as he had thought.
“I have a date,” he replied bluntly, hoping she’d have the decency not to push the issue.
“She’s probably not coming,” Rowan said with a confidence which bothered him. Cypress’ eyes became slits, an instant feeling of defensiveness snaking down his spine.
“Why would you say that?” he demanded and she shrugged innocently.
“Some women just can’t handle a strong man,” she cooed. “Lucky for me, I don’t have that problem.”
“Excuse me,” Cypress said, brushing past her. He needed to find Graciela. If Rowan had said something to her…
Gods. I feel like I’m navigating a high school conflict with Rowan skulking about.
“Why won’t you give me another chance?” Rowan whined, reaching out to grab his arm, but Cypress skillfully managed to avoid her touch. “Once you had no problem taking me out.”
Cypress knew there was no point in explaining to the singer that a lot had changed—for both of them.
“I’m not interested, Rowan,” he said flatly. “You need to stop following me around.”
Oddly, she didn’t seem as hurt by his words so much as angry.
“I think you’re being stubborn,” she growled. Cypress moved out of the dressing room, leaving her inside, but in seconds, he heard Rowan’s voice carrying out toward him.
“You can run but you can’t hide, Cypress!” her tone was singsong, almost sinister.
What the hell is wrong with her? Cypress wondered, but he shoved the question out of his mind. Rowan Woods was the least of his concern. He had no interest in digging through the psychology of a drug-addled woman who seemed hellbent on making trouble.
Through Studio A he moved, noting that the entire area was empty. The cast and crew had dispersed for the night and a feeling of uneasy peace fell over the shadows as though ghosts had come alive in the absence of breathing bodies.
“Stop walking away from me!” Rowan cried, but Cypress didn’t slow his gait. He made his way into the offices, Rowan on his heels.
“Cypress!” the singer howled. “Just stop and talk to me for a minute!”
But before she reached his side, he saw Graciela emerging from a door at the far end of the hall and his shoulders relaxed. She hadn’t ghosted him after all.
“Hey!” he called out to her as she locked her office door. She looked up, a soft smile playing on her lips—until her eyes fell on Rowan.
“You about ready to go?”
Graciela didn’t answer immediately as though she was trying to figure out what was going on.
Through his peripheral vision, he saw Rowan glowering at Graciela.
“Good night, Rowan,” he said firmly, striding toward his date. “Come on. I’ll drive.”
He took Graciela’s arm before she could argue and marched her down the hall.
“I thought she was coming with us for a minute,” Graciela confessed when they were out of the building and Cypress snickered.
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for our date,” he replied. Graciela’s cheeks tinged pink and he found her expression endearing.
She tries to portray herself as tough but she’s vulnerable deep down.
“Is that what this is? A date?”
He paused at his Porsche and grinned at her.
“Isn’t it? Or do we have business to discuss?”
Graciela looked down, a bashful expression playing over her face.
“Honestly, I have no idea why you asked me out to dinner. I wouldn’t have thought I was much your type.”
Cypress didn’t know what to make of that as he unlocked the doors and nodded for her to climb in.
“What would you think my type is exactly?” he laughed, even though the sentiment had baffled him.
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “More the model/actress/Barbie doll persona.”
Cypress was mildly offended but he didn’t let himself overthink it. Graciela was used to dealing with Hollywood bigwigs all day long. He was sure she’d seen the worst of the worst in her time at Realm Studios.
It made sense that she thought him one of them.
He started the car and cast her a sidelong look.
“There’s still time for you to become a model/actress,” he teased. “Although I have to say, you are much more beautiful than any Barbie doll I’ve ever seen. Plastic doesn’t really do it for me.”
Graciela smiled at his cheesy joke. She was quiet for a moment as Cypress navigated the little bit of traffic at the late hour.
“Rowan is really fixated on you,” she muttered. Cypress’ hand clenched over the leather of the steering wheel.
“Rowan is a bit of a lost soul,” he replied, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice. It was Rowan who irritated him, not Graciela, and he didn’t want her to think otherwise.
“She threatened me.”
Cypress’ foot almost slammed on the brakes.
“What?” he demanded. “When? What did she say?”
“She warned me to stay away from you. I think she’s having a hard time accepting that you’re not a couple anymore.”
Cypress groaned loudly.
“We were never a couple!” he insisted, remembering Sam’s words to him the previous night. “We went out a couple times years ago! We haven’t even seen each other since, except at one Grammy Awards and one Oscars where we nodded. I don’t even think we exchanged words.”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me,” Graciela told him lightly but Cypress knew that wasn’t true. He felt like he owed her a lot more than he could understand.
It was then that he was struck with the bizarre understanding that Graciela was his mate.
Impossible. She’s a mortal and my weyr is long dead. Any mate I might have had is long gone—if she ever existed.
But it was the only thing that made sense. In four millennia, he had never been so drawn to another female, as if something inside her called out to him, rousing a sense of desire he had never known he had buried inside him.
Don’t tell her that. You’re apt to send her screaming from the restaurant.
“I’m not explaining anything,” Cypress said. “I just don’t understand where this fascination is coming from on her part. For years, we had no contact and suddenly, she’s…”
“Becoming a stalker?” Graciela supplied. Cypress grimaced.
“I can only assume she’s clinging to me because I’m the only one she knows on the cast.”
“How can that be? She was the biggest country singer until a couple years ago. She must know everyone.”
“I don’t know,” Cypress sighed. “
And honestly, I don’t want to talk about Rowan Woods tonight.” He gave her a wary smile. “If it’s all the same to you.”
“It’s fine with me,” Graciela agreed. “Where are we going?”
Cypress winked at her.
“It’s a surprise.”
~ ~ ~
The amusement on Graciela’s face was clear as they walked into the bistro off Riverside Park Drive. Even for the hour, there were still quite a few patrons sitting about, glued to their computer and tablet screens. No one paid them any attention as they walked inside.
“Aren’t you full of surprises?” she joked. “Aren’t we a little old to be hanging out at college bars?”
“You are never too old to eat burgers here,” Cypress assured her. “And everyone is so absorbed in their own worlds, they never bother me.”
“You’re joking,” she laughed. “You don’t get hounded for autographs here?”
“Never. It’s why I always come back.” He paused and eyed her speculatively. “I didn’t even ask if you’re a vegan. If so, they have vegetarian and vegan options here.”
Graciela chuckled.
“Not a chance,” she replied. “You can chalk my diet up to another reason I could never be one of those models and actresses you love so much. I am nothing without steak.”
“Hey!” he protested. “You’re the one who made false assumptions about me. I appreciate a woman who likes her red meat.”
They found a booth near the back of the restaurant and were quickly approached by a server who took their drink orders.
“So, what’s good here?” Graciela asked. “Just the burgers?”
“No, no,” Cypress cried. “Good is not what the burgers are. They are out of this world. I have traveled to every country on this planet and I haven’t had better anywhere.”
Graciela laughed, presumably at his hyperbolic statement, not knowing he meant every word he’d spoken.
“Every country on the planet, huh?”
“Something like that.”
He offered her a grin as he sat back against the vinyl of the booth.
“What about you, Ms. Kinrade? Did you always know you were going to be a studio executive?”
