A Blockbuster Proposal_The Trouble with Dating an Actor

by Lucy McConnell

  The group stood there, staring at Allie. She folded her shoulders in, embarrassed.

  “Did you have something for me to sign?” asked Beau, stepping into her personal space. She smiled. Beau’s attention was flattering—kind of nice to know a guy who dated supermodels wasn’t repulsed by an everyday waitress, but he wasn’t what she was looking for.

  “I didn’t.” Allie furrowed her brow. “I feel horrible. I didn’t think I’d upset y’all if I didn’t bring something for everyone.” She didn’t mention that she’d given her two other slots to George. He was happily chatting up Mark about sports cars.

  Beau grabbed a napkin. “How about José’s mom—maybe she’d like an autograph?”

  “I think she’d swoon.” Allie laughed.

  “Maybe I should give her this in person, then.” Beau’s charm went up three notches.

  “That might trigger a heart attack.”

  “How old is she?”

  “She’s in her late forties.”

  “That’s a little older than I usually date—but …” Beau’s hazel eyes danced.

  “Probably a good idea to steer clear; she could be more woman than you can handle,” Allie teased back.

  To her surprise, Beau hugged her. He had to bend down to get his arms around her, and the experience brought to mind being hugged by a bear, he was so darn big, but the sentiment behind the contact was sweet, brotherly even.

  She turned her head on Beau’s shoulder and met Mark’s gaze. While Beau may be easy to joke with, Mark was the one who truly put her at ease. At ease enough to sing in front of men who took the stage for a living.

  Yes, Mark’s strong jaw, piercing blue eyes, and overwhelming physique left her mind spinning and her temperature rising, but his sincere interest had drawn her into a place she hadn’t intended to go. Goodness sakes, she’d never be able to go to a Slade McCoy movie again without melting into a pool of popcorn butter and desire.

  “Do you want me to sign something too?” Mark asked. There was an edge to his question that took her off guard.

  Despite knowing this would be her last conversation with the famous movie star, Allie couldn’t help but blush. “Sorry, I’m all out of napkins.”

  Mark’s shoulders fell—like she’d hurt his feelings. Poor famous Hollywood star. There were probably fifty women outside right now who would love to have his autograph. Little ol’ Allie Gray couldn’t hurt his feelings … could she? She watched him from the corner of her eye as he thanked Kate and the others who made this all possible.

  Kate ushered George and her through the growing number of fans and into the limo. Allie glanced over her shoulder for one last glimpse of the life she was never meant to live but had been gifted for one afternoon. As nice as they all were, Mark was the only one she would have stood outside a restaurant in the Georgia heat for the opportunity to see again.

  Maybe she should have had him sign the back of her shirt just so that when she was back to being a waitress at a run-down café, she could remember how it felt to have Mark DuBois’s undivided interest tingle over her skin as she sang.

  The inside of the limo was dark and Allie’s eyes took a moment to adjust. When they did, she found George leaning way too close, a conspiratorial look in his eye. “That was a great time.”

  “It was. Thanks for the tip.” Allie leaned her head against the seat, soaking in the clean carpet scent and the feel of rich leather against her skin. Leather, like Mark. He must have leather seats in his car and that’s how he picked up the scent. Sensuous warmth ran through her veins as the pictured him driving off, wearing his shades, his strong jaw flexing as he maneuvered deftly through downtown traffic.

  George leaned his shoulder against hers, jerking her out of her daydream. “I have a girl on standby, but if you say the word, you can stay the night with me.”

  Ew! “No, thank you.” Allie scooted closer to the door.

  Kate cleared her throat. “There are a couple points we need to go over.”

  “What about you, sweetheart? Wanna spend the night at the Ritz?” George winked, his ears wiggled.

  Kate stared him down until George slunk into his own corner of the car. When he was sufficiently subdued, Kate continued, “The room is covered, but you’ll need to give them a credit card for incidentals.”

  “No way!” George bolted up in his seat. “They aren’t covering room service or anything? Cheap sons of a—”

  Kate cleared her throat.

  Allie pressed her fist to her stomach. Her credit card had disappeared with her ex-husband. The bill, however, showed up on the fifteenth of every month. The company shut down the card, but there were still a couple thousand dollars’ worth of charges to clear up. In the meantime, she couldn’t qualify for a new one.

  Now what was she going to do? With her apartment covered in noxious fumes, she’d be sleeping on the side of the road.

  “You have a hundred-dollar limit for incidentals. Any amount over that will need to be covered by you.”

  George grumbled but didn’t argue further.

  Allie faced the window, where the girl staring back at her turned green. The car slowed to a stop in front of the Ritz.

  Kate pointed to George. “This is your stop.” She turned to Allie. Her face had a softness that she didn’t offer to George, and Allie was grateful she was still on Kate’s good side. She might not be after she explained her credit card situation. Sleeping in the bathtub was looking like a viable option.

  “If you’ll wait here, I’ll be back in just a moment.”

  Kate was back in less than five minutes. Her steps were lighter than before, no doubt happy to be rid of the officer because he wasn’t much of a gentleman.

  “Whew.” Kate swiped the hair off her forehead. “We’ll get you all tucked in for the night. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you a room here.”

  “It’s okay, really,” Allie assured her.

  Kate plucked at her skirt. “The hotel is … less than ideal. We can drop you off at home if you’d rather take a cash voucher.”

  Allie shook her head. “My apartment building is being fumigated and I can’t go back for twenty-four hours. I’m really grateful for the spare room—I don’t care what hotel it’s at.”

  “You might once you see it,” muttered Kate.

  Allie brushed her worries aside. She would lock herself in the room and not come out until morning if need be. Anyplace was better than the street. “Listen.” She scooted forward in her seat. “I have a confession.”

  “What’s that?” Kate cocked her head.

  The words tumbled out. “I don’t have a credit card. I promise I won’t eat so much as a bag of nuts and I won’t turn on the television. I’ll just take a bath and go to bed early.”

  Kate waved her off. “I’m not worried about you. George would have cost us the whole budget and then some if I’d given him free rein, but you’ll be fine. Use the hundred dollars—order some macadamia nuts or whatever they have to offer.”

  Relief washed over her like warm bathwater on a cold day. She hated having this credit issue hang over her. Facing the issue again had taken all the confidence she’d gained talking with Mark and smashed it deep down inside where she lost sight of who she could have been. Reed shouldn’t have that much influence over her anymore, and yet somehow, someway, he managed to darken even her fairy-tale afternoon.

  What she needed was a big dose of Mark. She blushed just thinking about him. Unfortunately, the clock had struck midnight and she’d turned into a pumpkin. Or maybe she was the mouse, timid and vulnerable. Either way, she wasn’t the princess.

  They pulled to a stop outside of a two-story hotel with a broken front door and window units leaving stains under every window. Gritting her teeth, she steeled herself to sleep with the lights on to keep the cockroaches at bay.

  She was back to her reality, and she might as well get used to it.

  Chapter 6

  Mark hung around the pizza place with Beau, Anthony, an
d Leticia. The late afternoon sun bathed the place in a rosy glow. The staff lowered the blinds, giving the guys some privacy since there were two hundred plus fans outside. The security detail had the perimeter under control and the chef cranked out pizzas for the remaining staff. They trickled out, giving the impression the event was winding down.

  Beau had sent out a tweet thanking George and Allie for the great afternoon, including a pic of all of them at the table. He’d also mentioned heading home to play some pool with the guys. If they waited for a half hour, most of the people outside would assume they’d snuck out the back and they could leave in relative peace.

  Beau rolled up the sleeves of his button-up shirt. “I’m glad that’s over with—the cop was a card, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Anthony shook his head.

  “I liked Allie, though.” Leticia rubbed her belly affectionately—like the baby could feel her. What did he know? Maybe the baby could sense a mother’s love. She’d been doing that all afternoon, and Anthony had a dopey smile on his face each and every time he caught her at it. Being around the two of them when they acted all in love and crap was difficult.

  However, after spending those few minutes listening to Allie sing, he could kind of understand where the two of them were coming from. Which was weird, right?

  “Hey.” Beau lifted his glass and took a sip. “Kate should have dropped George off at that scuzzy hotel. I’ll bet he flipped out when he realized he wasn’t staying at the Ritz.”

  “Probably—she said he’d bucked at every rule she put up,” added Anthony.

  “Call her and find out how the drop-off went.” Beau kicked his feet up on the chair across from him.

  Mark had been fighting the urge to find out if Allie was all settled and this was as good of an excuse as any. The phone rang once before Kate picked up.

  “Hey, Kate—how’d it go?” Better to start with generalities than jump right in to finding out if Allie had enough bubble bath. Beau nudged him, and he put the call on speaker phone.

  “Better than expected. They’re all settled for the night.”

  “What room at the Ritz?” asked Leticia. “I’d like to send over some of my bath salts.” Leticia had a small company that made herbal body lotions and soaps. Mark had given a large basket to his mom for Christmas. She raved over them, so he’d sent another—just to spoil her.

  “Hang on.”

  They waited while Kate checked whatever device she’d noted the information on. “216,” she finally replied.

  “Thank you,” called Leticia.

  216. 216. 216.

  Mark took the call off speaker. The conversation hadn’t told him about Allie’s well-being—or if she liked the room. She probably loved the complementary bathrobes and fruit baskets. Maybe she’d thrown herself across the bed, her arms spread wide. He wasn’t about to ask for particulars with Beau and Anthony on the call, though. He’d never hear the end of it from them.

  The conversation did, however, give him one giant opportunity—he had her room number. What he was going to do with it was a whole other question. “Today went great. Take the weekend off, will you?” he told Kate.

  “I’ll see you Monday.” Kate’s voice held a smile.

  They hung up and Mark turned to Leticia, a stroke of genius smacking him upside the head. “I can deliver those bath salts for you.”

  Leticia pointed over her shoulder. “I’ve got some in my trunk. You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all, the hotel is on the way home. I’ll just hand them to the footman and be off. It’ll take three minutes—tops.”

  “That would be great. I’m ready for a nap.”

  “Just a nap?” Anthony kissed her hair.

  Leticia’s movements were laced with sleepiness. “Yes, just a nap … a twelve-hour nap.”

  It was only six-thirty, but Mark remembered Jasmine getting tired early too and was doubly glad he’d offered to deliver the gift. They made quick work of getting the items from Anthony’s car and into his. Most of the fans had indeed dispersed after Beau’s tweet that they were leaving, and those that remained were entertained by the man himself. Beau never seemed to tire of being in the limelight, and Mark was more than happy to hand the screaming fans over to him after he promised to call a cab.

  The drive to the hotel wasn’t long, and yet the sun had set and the city lights came alive before he handed his keys to the valet. Mark debated going through with his little plan to … to what? To check on Allie? Kate would have made sure she was fine.

  He held the basket of bath stuff, all wrapped in cellophane and tissue paper, up by his chest to hide his face as he crossed the hotel lobby. Dimly lit crystal chandeliers blushed the room with a golden glow. The sound of his steps on the marble floor was muted by the wood walls painted black. The golden elevator door opened and a pair of teens stepped out, too absorbed in their phones to pay any attention to him.

  What he really wanted was to see Allie again—to talk. Just talk more. The desire was strong enough to propel him into the elevator to do something stupid.

  The easy-going way she’d brushed off getting his autograph could have been an act, but Mark didn’t think so. And after the way George had behaved, Mark was pretty sure he was the one who had asked for an extra room.

  That left Mark with a problem.

  He’d met a woman who hadn’t asked for a part of him and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about her. He stared at the buttons as the elevator took him to the second floor. He could still hear her clear voice and see the joy light up her face as she talked about those kids. He wished his church had a children’s choir. Chloe could sing and she’d love to participate. Performing in a group would be a good way for her to get used to being in front of people too.

  That was his ticket—he’d ask Allie about her church, and he and Chloe could visit this Sunday. With a clear plan of action, Mark squared his shoulders and waited for the doors to open.

  Room 216 was easy enough to find. There was loud music pouring from underneath and around the door, spewing into the hallway. Mark raised his eyebrows as he knocked on the door.

  A woman in a white bathrobe opened the door and gave him the once-over. She recognized him immediately. “You’re Mark Dubois. Honey—come see this. It’s Mark!”

  She used his first name as if they were friends. George popped his head into the hallway. “Mark! My man. Come on in.” George adopted a sense of familiarity that caused the hair on the back of Mark’s neck to stand on end.

  “I can’t. I was just delivering this to Allie—is she around?” He couldn’t imagine her hanging out with these two, but stranger things had happened. She was so nice, maybe she’d asked them to stay for a while before going to their hotel.

  “Naw, they carted her off to some other hotel. Me and my lady are living it up tonight—aren’t we babe?”

  “We sure are.” She ran her hand down her chest, opening her robe a few more inches in the process. Mark quickly averted his eyes.

  Wait—If George was here, that meant that Allie was at a dive hotel. “You guys can have this, then. Have a great night.” Mark shoved the bag of bath stuff at George and took off down the hallway. The elevator didn’t open right away, so he hit the stairwell, pulling his phone out of his back pocket as he ran.

  Kate picked up on the third ring. “What did you do?” he demanded.

  “What?” Kate sounded like she might have been asleep. He wouldn’t blame her for going to bed, especially since she’d had to deal with George for most of the day.

  “Allie was supposed to be at the Ritz, not that sleazeball cop.”

  “Technically he was the one who held the winning ticket, and I didn’t think kicking him out would be a good idea,” defended Kate. “He could have sued or demanded a redo of the entire day or who knows what gumbo he would have cooked up.”

  Mark handed his ticket to the valet. “Any gentleman would have given the lady the better room.”

  “Well, obviously he�
��s not a gentleman.”

  Mark cursed. “I’ve got to fix this.”

  “What can I do to help?” Kate was firing on all cylinders now.

  “See if you can get her a room here, on a different floor. I’m going to get her.”

  “I’m sending directions to her hotel to your phone. I’ll call you right back about the room.”

  They hung up just as his car was delivered to the curb. He tipped the silver-haired man and slid behind the wheel. His phone beeped and he set the GPS.

  A half hour later he pulled into the cracked and weathered parking lot of the One Night Only Motel. An airport shuttle bus was parked just to the left of the front door and three rough-looking characters hung out on the bench, smoking and grumbling about the short stick life had given them. Allie’s room was just to the left. The lights on low. Good, at least she was still awake.

  The men eyed Mark’s car, one of them letting out a low whistle. “How ’bout a ride?”

  “Sorry, fellas, I’m on a mission.”

  If his skin crawled when he walked passed these guys, how had Allie felt? He was such an idiot for sending her here. He knocked quickly and took a step back, his senses on high alert and his martial arts training sparking to life.

  The curtain parted letting a sliver of light escape. “Allie? It’s me, Mark,” he said to the crack, sounding stupid and desperate. He owned both emotions because he’d been stupid to let her stay here and not check deeper into the arrangements. And he was desperate to get this little ray of sunshine out of the darkness.

  A chain rattled, a deadbolt slid to the side, and the lock on the handle popped before the door cracked open. Allie blocked the entrance with her body, her hand clutching her ratted robe closed over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to get you.” He barged into the room and shut the door behind them, throwing the deadbolt as a precaution. Better to avoid a fight than allow one to come through the door.