by Amy Noelle
“No, but you are involved and intrigued and could be happy, maybe.”
“Or I could get my heart crushed again.”
“At least then you’d have felt something.” I started to respond but she hurried on. “I’m not saying you should do anything right now. You’re just getting to know him again. But can’t you be open to the possibility of maybe?”
No. “It would compromise the book.”
“Screw the book. The book will be good regardless. This isn’t about the book. It’s about you. You can be the story or tell the story. Which do you choose?”
It had never been a choice. “I’m here to tell the story.”
She sighed again. “You keep telling yourself that. Now, don’t you have a date to get ready for?”
“It’s not a date.”
“Is he picking you up?”
I knew where this was going. “Yes.”
“Did you buy a new dress?”
“Yeah.” It was a long, gorgeous column of golden shimmers that cut a bit low on the bodice. It wasn’t scandalous or anything. And the slit in the left side that showed off my leg just made it easier to move.
“Are you putting on makeup and heels?”
“Of course. It’s a charity dinner. I can’t show up in jeans.” Even though I’d be much happier that way.
“Do you have any idea how these charity dinners work? The guests buy plates for something like ten thousand a head.”
“So you’re saying . . .”
“That he forked out a ton of money with the intent of taking you to this dinner. You can attempt to call it whatever you like, but any guy who spends thousands of dollars to take you somewhere is calling it a date. Plus, you bought a new dress.”
“He probably had the tickets long before I planned on coming out.”
“Maybe, but it’s you he’s taking. And you’re planning on looking hot, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. I’m meeting Pamela Baxter tonight and she—”
“Has slept with him. You want to show her up.”
I snorted. “Like that’s possible? I just don’t want to look like the pathetic ‘before’ picture in a magazine: ‘This is the creature he dated before fame and fortune, and look at the perfection he’s upgraded to now!’ ”
“Dani, you have never looked like a ‘before’ picture and I have no doubt you could outshine even Pamela Baxter if you put your mind to it.”
“What if he leaves with her?” I was already cursing myself before I finished asking the question.
“I thought you didn’t care.”
“I don’t want to.”
“At least you admit that much. Tell me, is Brad the type to take one girl to a party and leave with another? Especially when that girl is in a strange city without transportation? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you once tell me that he had good old-fashioned Southern manners?”
I cursed the day she’d gotten me wasted and I’d spilled my guts to her. It was coming back to haunt me in a major way. “Yes, and he still opens doors and waits for me to sit before he sits.” It was funny, the little things I hadn’t noticed until now.
“Does that sound like the kind of guy who’d take off with his fuck buddy? Wouldn’t that leave you open to savaging him in the book?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then don’t sweat it. He’s not going to leave with her. Worst case scenario is he takes you home and hooks up with her later.”
My jaw dropped. “I hadn’t even thought of that! Why would you say that?”
Bec laughed. “Because you would have thought of it eventually and had a whole new scenario to worry about, so I said it now to get it out of your system. He’s not going to do that, Dani. And if he does, then he is the jerk you think him to be and you can forget about him, right?”
“I guess so.” Forgetting about him had been the plan. It seemed I’d failed spectacularly.
“I know so. Now go and get ready to knock his socks off.”
She was right. I had a couple of hours to shower and make myself presentable. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Damn right you will. Call me when you get up, hopefully not alone.”
I laughed. “I guarantee I’ll be waking up alone.”
“That’s a darn shame. Have fun regardless.”
“It’s business, not pleasure.”
“When are you going to learn it’s so much more fun to combine the two? Look at us, we’re friends and coworkers.”
“And look how well that’s working out for me,” I said.
“You love me.”
“Not today I don’t.”
“You wound me, Dani, you really do. But because I love you, I will forgive you. Go get devastatingly beautiful.”
I shook my head. “Bye, Bec.”
“Bye, Dani. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“More like, don’t do anything you would do.” I hung up before she could say anything more. That was a road I didn’t need to go down.
I took a hot shower and dried my hair while wearing the supersoft hotel robe I was going to have to purchase when I left this place. I went for smoky eyes and attempted to tame my hair, but my curls had other ideas. I didn’t have time for the flat iron, so I let it go. It looked good, just windblown. I cursed my pale skin as usual, but at least the gold in my dress didn’t wash me out.
It had no back, so a bra wasn’t an option, but luckily the girls were still pretty perky and the dress had built-in support. I was just stepping into my matching shoes when there was a knock on the door. I took a deep breath before opening it, and it was a good thing because I’m fairly sure I stopped breathing at the sight of him.
I’d seen Bradley Reynolds in most stages of dress in our time together, from naked as the day he was born to nice suits for fancy dinners and awards ceremonies. I’d seen him in magazines wearing a tux, but nothing compared to the real thing, live and in person. He was devastating. The tuxedo showed off his broad shoulders and cut down to his narrow waist. The crisp white shirt was pressed, and the bow tie was sexy as hell. I was in major trouble.
His gaze traveled over me and he took in a deep breath of his own. He muttered something I couldn’t make out before clearing his throat. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks. So do you.” It was the simple truth.
“Shall we?” He held out his arm, just like he used to, and because it felt right, I looped mine through his before closing the door.
It felt like a million eyes were on us as we got out of the elevator and made our way through the lobby. A sleek, black, sexy sports car was waiting at the front with the valet. Brad passed him a bill as he opened the door for me. The car was low to the ground, and I had to hold on to his hand as I got in. He got in on the driver’s side, but when the car didn’t start, I glanced over and found him staring at me.
“What?”
He shook his head and started the ignition. “This is going to be a long night,” he murmured. I looked at his handsome profile as he expertly steered the car into traffic, and I had a feeling he was right.
Chapter 7
Being in a small car with Brad felt more intimate than being in his cold condo this morning, and it made me fidgety. He wasn’t talking, and I was busy being assaulted by memories of car rides past—when he’d taken me out to dinner or a movie or on a drive that ended with the two of us hot and sweaty in the backseat. Thankfully this car didn’t seem to have a backseat, but it didn’t stop me from remembering and getting turned on all over again. Curse him and his hotness for turning me back into a horny coed.
“So this is for the Cancer Society?” I asked to fill the quiet and try to take my mind off how sexy he looked driving the car.
“Yes.” His hands flexed on the steering wheel. “My dad died of pancreatic cancer.”
Shit. I wasn’t an expert but I knew it was a terrible way to go. “Was he sick for a long time?”
Brad glanced at me as we waite
d at a stoplight. “Yes, but I didn’t know about it until the end. He kept it from me.”
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and touching his arm. “I’m so sorry. I know how close you were. I’m sure he didn’t want to burden you.”
He barked out a harsh laugh, and I took my hand away. “Yeah, you could say that. Luckily, Bailey told me and I got there in time to say goodbye.”
I nearly choked. “Bailey. Right. Well, it’s good you had her to help you through.” My blood was full of fire, but my words came out sounding genuine.
He laughed again and the sound of it tore at my heart. “Yeah, at least I had someone.”
I took a deep breath. This was about his dad, not me and him. And Bailey. The way he talked, his wounds seemed so fresh. “Brad, when was this?”
“A lifetime ago.” He pulled up in front of a much fancier hotel than the one I was staying in and turned to me. “Look, I know we need to talk about it at some point, but now is not the time. It’s hard enough to get through this without dredging it all back up.”
I was being a nosy bitch and I felt awful about it. “I’m sorry. I just thought . . . I mean, we’re here so it must mean a lot to you and . . . never mind.” I was babbling because I was nervous, I felt like an intruder, and I was trying my hardest not to let my anger about him and Bailey get the better of me. But underneath it all was a heartfelt concern. There was a time when I could have asked him anything and he would have answered. That was before, though, and I couldn’t blame him for shutting me out. We weren’t dating and we weren’t even friends anymore.
He touched my cheek and I leaned into him. I couldn’t help myself. It was just the way I was with him. “It does mean a lot to me, but I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? You didn’t know. Can we just go in there and eat what will undoubtedly be strange food and try to have a good time?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you.” He opened his door then and came around to retrieve me before the valet could. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Reynolds.” Mr. Reynolds? That sounded funny to me and I let a giggle slip out before I could stop myself.
“Take good care of her.” He handed over his keys before turning back and offering me his arm again. “And what are you laughing at?”
“He called you Mister. It just makes you sound old.”
“Well, I am older, but fortunately I’ve gotten better with age. And watch out or he might call you Miss.”
“No thank you. And stop flattering yourself.” It was true but I wasn’t going to stroke his ego. Or anything else.
“I’ll leave the flattering to you, Red.”
Before I could reply, a woman in a cloud of perfume enveloped both of us in a hug that had me way too close to Brad for my liking. “Bradley! It’s so good to see you! And who is this lovely young lady? I don’t believe we’ve met!”
Once she released us, I could see she was an older woman, probably in her late forties, although this was California and she might be in her eighties for all I knew. “Barbara King, this is Dani Pierce, author.” He used my real name instead of my pen name, but I didn’t feel the need to correct him. “Dani, Barbara organizes this and many other worthy fundraisers.”
“An author! How wonderful! Do you have any copies of your books with you? You could sign them and auction them off for charity.”
The woman was like a whirlwind. Where exactly would I be keeping books on myself? The dress didn’t leave room for a bra, let alone a hard-cover copy of my latest biography. “Not on me, but I could get you some. I don’t know that you’d want them, though. I’m not exactly well known.”
“But she will be,” Brad said, putting his arm around my waist. “She’s writing a book about me now.”
“Well!” The woman clapped her hands like a cheerleader. “Now there’s a book I’d love to read.”
“Play your cards right and you could be part of it.” He raised her hand to his lips for a kiss, and I swear the woman was blushing.
“Smooth talker. Don’t you just adore him?” she asked me. For lack of anything better to say, I nodded. “Go mingle, darlings. Don’t forget to sign up for the silent auction. Bradley, your donations are bringing in a lot of bids, as always!” With a final flourish of her dress, she spun toward the crowd.
“She was interesting.”
Brad laughed. “Mrs. King is a force of nature. I just let her swoop in and swoop out.”
“You seemed to handle her pretty well. When did you become Rico Suave?”
He smirked. “I’ve always had a way with the ladies.” And with that, my amusement fled. He had a way with them, me included. I kept forgetting that, and it was pissing me off.
“Would you like a glass of champagne?” he asked.
I needed something to get me through the night. “Sure.”
Brad got us each a glass from a passing waiter and handed me one. “Shall we mingle, then?”
This time I didn’t let him take my arm, and we made our way side by side into the ballroom. There was a dance floor and a band playing soft instrumental music, as well as a bunch of elaborately decorated tables draped in white lace. This was a step up from the parties I was used to attending, except when I was with Jason.
“We could look for . . .” But Brad didn’t have to finish.
Someone stepped into our path. Not just someone. Her. Pamela Baxter in all her glory, and she was indeed glorious. She was poured into a midnight blue dress that barely covered her assets, and her baby blue eyes were wide and sparkling.
“Brad! I need your help. Terrence is getting handsy again. Can you go scare him off for me?”
He chuckled and brushed his lips over her cheek. I looked away because the gesture made me . . . well, I didn’t know what it made me, but I didn’t like it. “Pam, you look stunning as usual.”
“So Terry keeps telling me. Seriously, can you play the part of the doting boyfriend for a minute? You can come right back to your . . . wait a minute. You’re Dani, aren’t you?”
I turned back and found her smiling and holding out her hand. “I’m Pam. It’s so great to meet you. I love your books!”
She was being nice, which I hadn’t expected. I didn’t quite know what to do with that, but I shook her hand. “Thanks. I’m a fan of your movies as well. I can’t believe you’ve read anything I’ve written.”
“Of course I have! When Brad told me you’d be writing his story, I had to read them to make sure you’d do him up right.” Do him? I choked on the sip of champagne I’d just taken to calm my nerves. So much for that. Brad patted my bare back, and I coughed harder. Not helping.
“Brad, you dolt, go get her some water! And scare off Terry. I’ll take care of your writer.”
I wasn’t his anything, but Brad grinned. “I guess I’ve been told. Be right back, ladies.”
“Men. You have to make them do every little thing, don’t you? Now, why don’t you have a seat?” I sank down on the chair she offered and she sat next to me just as another waiter materialized and handed me a glass of water. I took a long drink and tried to get my wits about me. I felt like I’d been sucked into a tornado. Everything inside me was unsettled.
“There. That’s better. Sorry to steal Brad from you, but Terry just won’t take no for an answer. And since I need him to produce my movies, I can’t exactly knee him in the balls, you know what I mean?”
Not really but I nodded anyway. “Brad’s not mine to steal, so don’t worry about it.”
Her smile widened. “Really? I wonder about that.”
“Why would you do that?” I took another sip of water and set the glass aside.
“Because he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you walked in the room, not even to look at me, and honey, let me tell you, that’s new.”
I followed her gaze and saw that Brad was talking to some older gentleman, smiling and laughing, but his eyes were on us. “How can you tell? He’s looking at both of us.”
“Making sure I’m not t
elling you all his secrets, no doubt!” She laughed. “And a woman knows when she has a man’s attention.” She leaned toward me. “I’m glad he didn’t listen to me.”
“Listen to you about what?”
“This book idea. Brad’s probably the most private person I know, and he’s going to reveal all to who I thought was some nobody writer with only two books under her belt? It’s crazy, right?”
My back went up and I glared at her. “It’s three actually, and—”
She grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to insult you. Those were my thoughts before I knew who you were to him, and before I read your books. You have a real talent for showing the man behind the story.”
This was one of the strangest conversations of my life, and my moods were shifting like lightning, from awe to jealousy to flattery to anger and back to flattery again. “Thank you, I think.”
She giggled and patted my hand. “You have to understand. Brad is special to me.” I just bet he was. “And not in the way you’re thinking.” Her stunning blue eyes looked almost teary for a moment. “He’s one of my best friends, and yet I don’t feel like I know him at all. Maybe your book will help me with that, huh?”
How did she not know him yet claim him as a best friend and sometimes lover? “It could. If he ever decides to open up to me.”
“If he’s going to open up to anyone, it’ll be you.”
“I’m delighted you think so, but thus far he’s done little to make me believe it.”
“These things take time.” She pursed her pouty lips at me. “You two have a complex history, from what I’ve gathered. But he brought you here for a reason.”
She was a talker; maybe she’d tell me. “Do you know what it is?”
Her tinkling laugh rang out. “No. My guess is unfinished business, but he hasn’t admitted that to me.”
I scoffed. “Our business was finished long ago.”
“Yet here you are.” She waved a hand indicating the fancy room we were in.
She was right, but I didn’t have to like it. “How did you two meet?” May as well get the interview over with. I didn’t think I’d need a notebook for this, but I took it out anyway.
