by Maisey Yates
“I can,” Grace said. “It belongs to my family now.”
Nina jerked forward, and drops of prosecco flew onto her lap. “You own this hotel?”
“My father does. I run the day-to-day operations.”
No wonder Grace carried herself like the grande dame of the château! It all made sense. But it didn’t explain Grace’s chronic dissatisfaction. Wealth, position and beauty—she’d inherited the trifecta. What exactly was her problem?
Voices rose in the courtyard, a chorus of “Welcome back, Mr. Knight!”
The hotel staff loved Julian. He was always polite and greeted everyone by name. Nina bolted her rear end to her chair. She would not dart out of the garden and tackle him. For one thing, she would not give Grace the satisfaction.
In the end, it was Grace that offered her an out. “Any dinner plans tonight? It’s later than you may think. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“You’re right.” Nina stood up. “I should get going.”
“Enjoy dinner, Ms. Taylor.”
“Thank you. Enjoy your night, Grace.”
* * *
Julian was on the grand staircase, scaling the stairs by two. Nina had to sprint to catch up to him. When he left with an overnight bag, she worried that she might have to spend a night without him, which would be a first since arriving in Miami. The idea had terrified her. “Hey!” she called out. “You’re back!”
He didn’t hide his delight in seeing her, drawing her to him for a kiss. Nina stiffened only because she was aware of Pete entering the courtyard. He had likely picked Julian up from the airport. He went over to the front desk and just lingered there. But even Pete couldn’t distract her for too long. She shook off her worries and relaxed into Julian’s kiss. Let the world see. Let them post about it. And when their relationship came to its inevitable end, let them tweet up a storm. This time together in Miami could be all they’d ever have, and she didn’t want to ruin it with doubts and fears. She was going to live it fully.
“I need a shower before dinner,” he said. “Want to come up with me to Paradise?”
“You mean Oasis.”
“I said what I said. It’s paradise with you.”
“Fine!” Nina cried, as if she weren’t elated beyond words. “I’ll grab a few things.”
Arm in arm, they made their way up the winding stairs. “Enjoyed your day?” he asked.
“It was productive.”
In truth, her day hadn’t been as productive as Nina would have liked. She’d wasted a good chunk of time scrolling through photos of JL and Bettina in happier times. They made a handsome couple; there was no denying it. His dark good looks contrasted with her pale beauty. On the red carpet, they flashed matching smiles. With each swipe, jealousy had churned in her chest.
“How was your trip? Did she say yes?”
“She didn’t say no.”
They’d reached her door. “If she says yes, I’ll make sure she has killer lines.”
She had little doubt Bettina would accept the role of Amanda King—it was that good.
He wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss in the curve of her neck. “How are you so lovely and generous?”
Nina unlocked the door and switched on the lights. Julian abandoned her for her bed, stretching out with a sigh of contentment. Nina watched him from the foot of the bed. He likely sensed her looming over him. “Did you forget the plan? Go on. Grab what you need.”
“Yeah. Right.” She went into the bathroom and blindly stuffed a few toiletries into a case.
“You okay?” Julian called out from the bedroom.
“I’m fine!”
She wasn’t, of course, and couldn’t explain why. A minute ago, she was joy personified. She returned to the bedroom and grabbed her travel tote bag from the armoire.
“Are you sure about that?” Julian asked. He was propped up on one elbow, watching her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Yeah!” she said, awakening to the truth. “I’m not lovely or generous.”
“You’re not?”
“No! I’m jealous.”
He sat up, all of a sudden alert, bright-eyed, engaged. “Tell me more.”
“I spent the day looking at—” She bit down on her lower lip, thinking it might be best to keep the crazy details to herself. “I was worried that you two—” Was there any way to talk about this without sounding like a complete basket case?
“You were worried that Bettina and I would take one look at each other and fall back in love?”
“Something like that.”
He reached out to her, wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged her close. She stood between his parted knees. “It was nothing like that. I promise you. We spoke for all of ten minutes. Then I left and headed straight back to the airport. I spent the day at the lounge, waiting for clearance to fly. I didn’t want to waste any of the few nights we have left.”
Nina’s heart was hammering in her chest. “Ask me again.”
A spark of hope brightened his expression. “Have you had enough time to think it through? I don’t want to rush you.”
Nina took his face in her hands and ran her fingers along the angles. Stubble pricked her fingertips. “Just ask me.”
He took her wrist to his lips. “Stay. Please.”
He wasn’t asking. He was pleading. Her response was a plea as well. She circled her arms around his neck and slid onto his lap. “Hold me. Don’t let me go.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nina had long forgotten that disastrous commercial flight to Miami, and the delays and inconveniences that came standard with flying coach, when she boarded the private jet chartered to take her home. And now, at cruising altitude, sitting across from a handsome movie star, sipping espresso from a porcelain cup, a cashmere throw on her lap and no packets of peanuts or granola bars anywhere in sight, Nina wondered if she’d won some cosmic lottery. It was a good thing that clawing anxiety kept things in perspective. Too good to be true is no good at all, her mother used to say.
They were leaving Miami to spend the night at her tiny New York apartment. When Julian had offered to fly her home and back, she’d said yes before she had a chance to think it through. Her place lacked the comforts he was accustomed to—specifically, room service, fluffy white towels and housekeeping. Her apartment was a mess. Her plants had likely withered in her absence, and there was a high chance that leftover takeout was rotting in her fridge.
There was no time to worry about it during the drive into the city. She and Julian read lines in the back seat of the town car as the driver zipped through tunnels only to slow to a crawl as traffic picked up.
“‘Day. Pool. Amanda floats on her back,’” Julian said, reading from his copy of the script. “‘The man who spent the night approaches, fully dressed, and tells her that he’s leaving. Amanda swims to the pool’s edge.
“‘Man says, “This was fun, babe. Let’s do this again soon.”
“‘Amanda says, “Sure. You have my number.”’”
Nina shook her head. “No…”
“You don’t like it?”
“I hate it.” Not every one of Amanda’s lines had to be a zinger, but they couldn’t fall flat, either. She jotted a few notes before reading aloud to him.
“‘Man says, “Gotta go, babe. Let’s do this again soon.” Amanda, flirting, splashes him with water, and says, “But not too soon. Okay?”’”
Nina checked Julian’s reaction. He stared down at the words on the page, his jaw tight. “It’s a small change that does two things,” she said. “This is the opening scene, and it ought to show Amanda’s cocky playfulness. Plus, it wraps up this story. The audience won’t expect to see this guy again.”
“Brilliant,” Julian murmured. “You’re such a natural, Nina.”
Nina thought of all t
he hours she’d spent at the breakfast table, spooning cereal into her mouth and reading her mother’s scripts. It was paying off.
“I should have asked for more money.”
“Too late. The contract is signed,” he said. “Come here and I’ll make up the difference.”
She released her seat belt and would have climbed onto his lap if the driver hadn’t pulled up to her building.
* * *
Julian was looking out the window, assessing her tidy redbrick building on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Nina didn’t wait for the driver. She pushed open the door and climbed out. The sounds of the city swirled around her. No loud, drunken tourists or reggaeton blasting from convertibles here—only the sounds of the punishing pursuit of ambition. However temporary, it was good to be home.
Nina froze at the sight of a pink upholstered couch sitting on the curb. She recognized it instantly, having spent many evenings curled up on it, drinking wine and binge-watching nineties-era sitcoms. It belonged to her friend and neighbor, decor fanatic Laetitia. What was it doing on the curb? If her friend had grown tired of it, Nina would have gladly taken it off her hands.
As Julian tipped the driver, Nina pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of the couch and sent it to Laetitia. Within seconds, her friend called, shouting, “What in the world?”
“You tell me.”
“Freaking Ted! He’s moving out and being a colossal jerk about it.”
Ted was moving out? Hell yeah! He’d always been a colossal jerk. It had taken Laetitia this long to figure it out. But still, what was the couch doing on the curb? “Is he tossing out your stuff?”
“He bought it for me as a birthday gift,” Laetitia whispered. She was at work and probably hiding in a bathroom stall for some privacy. “He knows how much I love it.”
A woman walking a dog tore off her earbuds and lunged toward the couch. Before she could thank her lucky stars, Nina chased her away. “Back away from the couch, lady!” Both the woman and her cocker spaniel growled at Nina and pranced off.
On the phone Laetitia was freaking out. “Don’t let anyone take my Jonathan Adler!”
“Okay, Laeti, but I can’t watch over it all day.”
In her frustration, Nina turned to Julian. He stood leaning against the town car, arms folded, watching her with eyes sparkling with amusement. Nina lowered the phone and got him up to speed. “It’s a Jonathan Adler, and it’s beautiful.”
He laughed and looked up at the hazy sky. “I appreciate the irony of my having to point this out, but this is a classic example of first-world problems.”
“Julian! We don’t have time for your musings.”
“What do you want to do? Take it to your apartment?” He walked over to the couch, grabbed an armrest and lifted it with one hand. “It’s not too heavy. I could use some help, though.”
Nina swooned. Her very own action hero! Calm and composed and proposing solutions that actually made sense.
The driver offered his assistance. “I used to be a mover back in the day.”
“Good,” Julian said. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Nina raised the phone to her ear. “Don’t worry, Laeti. We have a plan.”
“Who’s the man with the voice like honey?” Laetitia asked.
“That’s not important. We’ll take it up to my place and—”
“No! Take it straight to mine! Ted is still there. I’ll call him and straighten this out.”
Nina was grateful. Her apartment would be cramped enough with Julian in it. She didn’t need a large pink couch clogging up the foyer. Only this meant she’d have to confront the rabid ex-boyfriend. Anything for a friend, right? She would do it out of the kindness of her heart. “Hey, Laeti? You owe me big-time.”
“Anything. I’ll do your laundry if you want me to.”
“I’m thinking dinner and drinks when I get back.”
“Get back from where? You just got back.”
“Can’t get into it now! I’ll fill you in later.”
Nina ended the call and addressed her troops. “Okay, guys. We’re taking it up to the third floor, apartment 3C. I’ll hold the service elevator.”
* * *
“Nice building,” Julian observed as he carried his end of the couch through the lobby.
Holding the elevator as promised, Nina tried to see the space through the eyes of a millionaire movie star. It was well lit and clean. The frosted glass and gold accents did very little to elevate the plain design. “I’m sure you’ve lived in much nicer places.”
“I have.” He looked at her for a bit as if gauging if he should say more. Those quiet eyes always got to her. “But I’ve also lived in my car, so make what you want out of that.”
Nina clutched the pair of bolster pillows to her chest. Why was she still struggling to see Julian as an ordinary person? She kept tripping over the same low wire. He was not an action hero or a movie star. He was just a guy who didn’t hesitate to help lift a friend’s couch off the curb.
He and the driver tried out different ways to fit the couch into the elevator until they got it right. On the ride up, he asked if Laetitia was a good friend of hers.
“Good enough,” she said. “We binged an entire season of Riverside Rescue on this.” Nina patted the couch standing upright between them. “That makes it worth saving, don’t you think?”
Julian looked doubtful. “That’s one opinion.”
They reached the third floor. After some maneuvering, he and the driver moved the couch into the hall. She led them to Laetitia’s door then swiveled around to give Julian a pointed look. “There’s probably going to be some drama. I’ll handle it.”
“Whatever you say.”
He backed away and leaned against the wall. Nina knocked on the apartment door. It wasn’t locked and swung open. Ted looked up from a pile of boxes stacked like a pyramid where the couch should have been.
“Laetitia called,” he said flatly. “Sorry for your wasted effort, but you’re not bringing that thing in here. It’s my couch. I bought it. I tossed it out. There’s no law against it.”
Judge Judy would have laughed that argument out of small claims court. “It was a gift, Ted.”
“Mind your own business,” Ted said. “And shut the door on your way out.”
Nina was prepared for a little bit of back-and-forth, but not this stonewalling. At a loss, she turned to Julian. She hated to be the girl who got her boyfriend to fight her battles, but Julian wasn’t her boyfriend, so it didn’t count. He responded to her silent plea with a wink. “Guess we’ll do it my way.”
She nodded and went to stand next to the driver, who, to his credit, had not lost his professional composure. Julian didn’t move. He stayed as he was, leaning against the wall, and called out to Ted, “How do you want to do this?”
Gone were the accent and any gentlemanly manners. He’d transformed into his on-screen persona. Nina hated to admit it, but it was hot.
“Hey, Nina!” Ted said, waving a duct tape dispenser. “Where’d you get this impersonator? Vegas?”
Julian pushed off the wall and crowded the doorway. “I’m bringing in this couch. It would be a mistake to try to stop me. And if it lands on the curb again, I’ll know. We won’t be far.” He turned to Nina. “Where’s your apartment?”
“Ted knows,” Nina said. “I’m down the hall. Apartment 3D.”
Julian slipped out of character, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Three D? Really? Will we need special glasses?”
The man was a child! “Ha-ha! Three D! So funny! Could you wrap this up, please?”
He turned to Ted and resumed his admonishment. “Look. If I have to carry this couch, or anything else, back up here, you and I will have a problem.”
Ted’s reaction was staggered. He pinned a blank stare on Julian, puffed
out his chest, rolled his hands into fists and stretched to his full height. It was comical to watch. Julian could snap the stockbroker in two, but Nina knew he wouldn’t.
“Are we going to have a problem, Ted?” Julian asked.
Ted deflated. “To hell with it. I don’t care.”
“Good man.”
* * *
After Laetitia’s couch was back in its place and the driver well compensated, Nina welcomed Julian to her apartment. She liked her place. It was small, a studio, but it didn’t lack character. The wood parquet floors were beautiful. The living area was bright thanks to tall windows with immediate views of the tops of oak trees and a row of redbrick buildings farther down the street. Julian walked around in circles, commenting on framed photographs and book collections. Nina did not need 3D glasses to see him in all his complexity. He was a beautiful man, but he was more than that. He was smart, funny, generous, insightful and fair. He was tender, gentle, understanding… She saw him, and he was beautiful.
“Goldie, what are you overthinking now?”
He came to stand before her, hands low on his hips. Apparently, he didn’t need special glasses to see her, either.
“I’m thinking this feels just right.”
Julian wrapped her in his arms. It was everything and it was not enough. Nina needed to feel his skin against hers. She stepped back, unbuckled her jeans and shimmied to better push the stiff denim over her hips.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“We’re home,” she said. “Time to slip into something more comfortable.”
* * *
Journal Entry
“May I taste?”
I nod, because the words won’t come. He presses me against the door and hunches low. I readily hook a knee over his shoulder, but when his tongue meets my tender skin, I’m not prepared for the rush… I have to tug at his hair to keep from crying out.
We haven’t made it to the bed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cozy in her bed, limbs intertwined, Julian and Nina got back to work. Nina seemed giddy to be reunited with her laptop. She had hugged it to her chest and spun around like Maria in the opening credits of The Sound of Music. And now she leaned on his shoulder as they scrolled through actor profiles, looking to round out the cast. Julian was partial to a French actor, Vincent Gabriel, winner of a César and a BAFTA, to play the role of Luke’s accomplice. If he were honest, Vincent would probably shine in the role of Luke—if he weren’t hogging it for himself. Nina was a foreign film buff, and she melted at the mention of Vincent’s name.
