by S. L. Scott
“Distracting? Don’t lose this gig for us, Weston.”
I hand his drink to him and take mine, tapping the thick lowball glasses together. “Don’t worry. My eyes are on the prize,” I say, eyeing the brunette that looks dangerously delectable tonight.
“That’s what I’m worried about.” He steps away, and host of the year kicks in with his greeting. “Mr. Vittori. Ms. Carmichael. So good to see you both again. Seems our table is ready if you are.”
We drop into two pairs as Mark’s hand rests on Reese’s lower back guiding her forward as we walk. Jealousy begins to brew when I realize he’s allowed to do that and I’m not, and never will be.
“Beautiful. Don’t you think?”
Who am I kidding? I’ll never be able to keep it professional between us. Checking out Reese’s ass, I easily admit, “Sure is.”
“I meant the ensemble. It’s from my new line. But she’s quite the beauty too.”
I glance down at him. A glint of something is caught in his eyes and we exchange a brief, knowing look. We’re led to a table for four and I pull out Reese’s chair for her before sitting directly across from her. “Thank you, Danny.”
“You’re welcome.”
“This is cozy,” Mark says, scanning the room.
Briefly looking around, I spot a few A-listers scattered about the room, C-listers near the window, and three Lakers. At tables too close for comfort to the one we’re led to are two women I would prefer not to catch up with. I’ve slept with both—one actress when she was just a starlet before the fame hit big, and one model. I regret both, but don’t dwell on regrets, except one and that would include the woman sitting at the table across from me. I lower my head, hoping they don’t see me.
Wine is ordered for the table. I order another bourbon, having finished my first one before we left the bar. As soon as the waiter leaves, Reese says, “We’ve confirmed the studio and two locations for the New York photo shoot. We’re still waiting on foreign. We visited Paris four days ago, but the photographer wasn’t sold on the early scouted sites.”
Vittori interjects, “I read that Danny does shoot scouting.”
“I do. I have. I’ve even done some professional photography. Just in case this whole modeling thing doesn’t work out.”
Reese says, “Was there ever any doubt?” Her tone is more serious than it has been, a heaviness coating her words.
Mark says, “I think it’s working out just fine, better than ever. Danny, here, has always been a working model, but his name, good reputation, place in the industry has grown exponentially over the last five years.”
“As has his paycheck.” Vittori smiles as the wine is poured.
Mark adds, “His return in value well exceeds his pay.”
“I have no doubt. I’m more than happy to pay his fee. My clothes are the best, and so it’s only natural to team with the best.” Holding up his glass, he says, “Here’s to a fruitful relationship.”
After we toast, Reese adds, “We’ve hired Rebecca Lange to handle wardrobe and to hire makeup. We’ve worked with her before and we know she has worked with you several times. We thought it might make the photo shoots more comfortable with familiar faces.”
“I just wrapped a job with her,” I say. “She’s great to work with.”
Reese and Vittori look pleased, and she replies, “That’s good to hear.”
We go through three courses and I struggle to keep my gaze off her. Her lips. I remember kissing them like it was this morning. Her hair. Shades of auburn and gold were highlighted in the sunlight when she would walk across campus just to see me. Her breasts. They’re larger. I remember how good they felt in my hands. When she excuses herself to the ladies’ room, I watch her walk away. Her legs were great back when we were together. She was a runner. By the look of them now, she’s stayed fit.
When I catch her eyes on me, I don’t smile. I can’t. I don’t understand what this unsettling feeling is inside. It’s unnerving and throwing me off my game.
“Danny Weston.”
My attention is drawn to the right, following my name. Shit. This could go very badly. “Cherry Menger.” I stand and we do the fake-kiss Hollywood thing, or so I thought until her signature cherry-red lips press hard to mine. I’d prefer the fake to those lips touching me again. “It’s been a while.”
“Restraining orders tend to do that.”
“I dropped it,” replying; I keep my tone light and friendly. I don’t want a scene, especially not in the middle of Spago. That would go viral before we’re served dessert.
Her hands hold on to me. Her grip tightens, trapping me in place. When she zeroes in on my dinner guests, she says, “Sorry for interrupting. I just had to come say hello to Danny. It really has been too long. We should get together?” She looks hopeful, but her eyes glance to Reese when she returns to the table, and then back to me. Her tone lowers. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” Recognition dawns on her face and she squeals. “Oh my God. You’re Mr. Vittori. I adore your clothes and I wear your perfume.”
She starts to lean down, but he stands up and they fake kiss. I catch Reese’s eyes on Cherry before she looks down rearranging her napkin in her lap. The whole scenario reminds me of why we broke up.
Dessert is served and I use it as an opportunity. “If you’ll excuse us, this is a business dinner.”
Dramatically, her hand flies to her chest. “Oh yes, I’m so sorry. Mr. Vittori I would love to wear one of your gowns to the Oscars this year.”
“If you’re invited, please contact me. It would be an honor.”
Ouch!
Taken aback, she replies, “Of course I will be. I have three new films coming out.”
“Fantastic. Please have your people call my people.”
She thanks him, though I can see the irritation on her face when she turns toward me. Kissing me on the cheek again, she says, “It was good to see you again. Call me sometime.”
I sit when she walks away after not agreeing to have anything to do with her. I’m not that crazy. Overemotional actresses aren’t my bag. Glancing up, Reese has eaten half of the slice of chocolate cake in front of her before I’ve taken my first bite. “How is it?”
“Good,” she replies flatly, not looking up.
I take a bite, but I know I shouldn’t eat it. Not with the Vargo shoot in two days. Pushing it away, I choose the bourbon instead. I know this woman. Well, I knew the girl. Her jealousy is showing. And I’m absolutely fascinated by her reaction considering she’s the one who left. She moved on with no problem, so I need to play this right. I can move on myself now or figure out why I’m so damn attracted to her still.
Looking back at Reese, she seems to be searching for answers of her own by the way she’s digging into her dessert. “Reese?”
She looks up, fork in hand, almost to her mouth. “Yes?”
I need to think fast. My need to make her feel better, to ease her stress over the Cherry situation made me open my big mouth and draw unwanted attention from Mark and Vittori. As all three of them stare at me, I blurt, “Your glass is empty and Mark mentioned wanting to speak to Mr. Vittori about something… umm… to do with the thing.” I cough and stand up abruptly. “Would you like to join me at the bar?”
Her shoulders straighten and she sets her fork down gently. “Oh, okay. Yes, we can give them some privacy.” Looking to Vittori, she says, “And then you can join us at the bar.”
Vittori smiles. “Yes, we’ll be here… to talk. You two run along now.”
Mark is scowling at me until Vittori and Reese look his way. That frown turns upside down, and a half-smile replaces it. “Sure. Give us a few. We’ll be right over.”
I help Reese up by pulling out her chair, and remark, “Great.”
As we walk away, Reese whispers to me over her shoulder, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but it better be good, Weston.”
“It was always good. You’ve just forgotten.”
“P
lease remind me then,” she challenges.
With my hand on her back, I lean down, really close to her ear and whisper, “Believe me, I intend to.”
CHAPTER 7
~Reese~
HE’S A PERFECT gentleman, maybe even more so than when he was in college. Danny helps me onto my barstool and then sits on the one next to me. After we place our order, an awkward silence creeps in.
Then he goes first, trying for casual chitchat like we don’t have a huge pink elephant of ten years sitting right between us. “How are you liking your visit to LA?”
I volley back with a polite and boring answer. “I’ve been several times over the years, and every time it’s a breath of fresh air from my gray Manhattan life.” When my eyes meet his, I see a concern that he must mean to hide. There’s no mistaking how he let Cherry Menger mark him with her red lips despite how flirty he’s been with me. His dislike of me will likely overpower all other emotions he’s capable of. Revenge is sweet and apparently he’s got a sweet tooth tonight. Sitting up straighter, I add, “I don’t mean to sound sullen. I think I’m tired from the travel. Europe, New York, and Los Angeles in four days wore me down.”
I watch him as he speaks, the way his lips form the words, and remember how they used to feel against mine. “That’s a lot of travel. I’m still not used to it and I travel all the time.”
Taking a sip of my drink, I let it hold my attention long enough to rethink what I’m doing, what we’re doing. I can’t pretend when we’re alone. Too much truth—of everything—exists between us to pretend it doesn’t. Is he trying to torture me by his hot and cold attitude? His eyes veer to my cleavage, then back up, and suddenly I’m very aware of every little innuendo between us. I touch the fabric, and now wonder if deep down, I wore it for him. Do I want his attention? God, am I that desperate to think I could get it even if I did? He’s got millions of female fans. What would he want with the girl who walked away? But he’s staring at me again like he might have forgiven me. I’m so confused. I shake my head and say, “You’ve done well, Danny. Congratulations on your success. It’s what you always wanted.”
“I wanted other things too.”
I can’t hold his gaze when it’s ingrained with his emotions. He always did reveal everything in his warm brown eyes. Looking away from him, I say, “I guess we can’t have it all.” I immediately regret the sarcasm. “I’m sorry. That was rude and uncalled for.”
“It’s different.”
“What is?”
“Us. We’re different. We’re learning how to navigate this new relationship. The one where we don’t know each other, don’t love each other any longer, don’t… One where we… where there was no us… where we never existed.”
The words slice through my heart, baring the feelings that I’ve held, but had buried. My chest feels cold. The exposure hurts more than I expected. “This is more difficult than I thought it would be.”
He nods, drinking the water he ordered instead of responding. I hope I didn’t offend him. Logically, I shouldn’t care… but I do. Ugh! Why do I care? I left for a reason. Don’t soften now. “We can do this. It will benefit us both if we do. You score a multi-million-dollar deal and launch a huge line. I land the promotion I’ve fought to earn for two years. It’s win-win.”
“If we can do it.”
Stealing a glance at him, I take my wine in hand. “We’re both professionals and I have no doubt we’ll be able to convince them.” After a shot of liquid courage, I try to tamp down these foolish notions I once held so tightly to. I’m not the girl who once fawned over him. I’m a professional ad exec and have worked hard to get where I am, to be able to handle accounts of this size and budget. My goals aren’t going to be pushed aside for a handsome face and a size thirteen shoe.
Glancing down, I can’t help but be a little in awe of the nice Italian shoes and the size. Were his feet that big back in college? My memories never underestimated… I cough. His size. He’s definitely a man now, not the boy I once loved.
His eyes meet mine, a determination filling them. “But can we convince ourselves?”
“I’m sure you’ll have no problem carrying on. You’ve always been very good at moving forward.”
He stares at me. Unabashedly stares directly into my eyes. My breath catches in my throat and I swallow hard. When I exhale, the air deepens, my body heating as my chest rises and falls. I turn to see Vinnie and Mark coming toward us.
His deep, dulcet tone draws me back in. “You can set down your weapons, Reese.”
“I hope so.” Putting a smile in place, I get up and walk to meet the others, not able to be the center of his gaze any longer. His eyes were always so alive, vibrant, filled with possibility, and so focused… on me. I once flourished under his adoring gazes, but now I feel small, weaker somehow. When I reach the others, I breathe easier under the reprieve and ask, “Are we ready to go?”
Vinnie smiles, a happy alcohol glaze covering his eyes. “We’re going back to the hotel for a nightcap.” He looks over my shoulder and I know who he’s looking at, so I don’t bother to turn. When he looks at me again, he wraps his arm through mine and we walk to the door. “Mark and I have a little more we’d like to discuss. I’m going to ride with him back to the hotel, so we’ll be done by the time we arrive.”
My arm tightens around his wrist in panic. “I don’t mind if you talk business in front of us. I’m sure Danny won’t mind. We should all ride together. It’s more economical that way too.”
“Oh honey, money is the least of my worries.”
“It’s killing the planet. It makes no sense to put those extra emissions out, destroying our Mother Earth. We should really save the gas.”
He finally stops, allowing Danny and Mark to walk ahead of us and out the door. “What’s wrong with you? Are you really worried about the gas emissions?”
“I am. I mean, yes, I am. I care about the planet, but please. I can’t be alone with him right now.”
“C’mon,” he says comfortingly. We walk outside and two Priuses are waiting for us. “See? No need to be worried. Electric cars on demand. How fantastic is that?”
“I thought—”
“I know what you thought, but trust me,” he whispers. “This is for the best.” Releasing me, he waves as he rushes to get in the first car. “See you back at the hotel.”
“It was a valiant effort,” Danny says, waving at the car driving Mark and Vinnie away. “I actually believed you cared about the Earth.”
“I do care about the Earth.”
He smiles. “Okaaaay.”
I give Danny a dirty look. “Don’t condescendingly ‘okay’ me.”
“Okay.” He chuckles. “Oops. That one just slipped out.”
I want to glare at him longer, but seeing him smile and hearing him laugh breaks me. Those things always did. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But cute.”
Teasing, I say, “Cute isn’t the word I ever used to describe you.”
“Was it sexy? Handsome? Hot? Great in bed? Virile?”
“Virile? Really? Who uses that word?”
“I do. You just did. To describe me, I might add.”
“Ugh. You’re incorrigible.”
“So there’s hope after all.”
“Hope for what?”
“Hope that maybe we can be friends again.”
“I was always too in love with you to be friends.”
That silences him. The smile disappears from his face, the fun sucked right out of the Prius. He looks out the window while my mind races, running through what I said and what I meant and—
“I was also too in love with you,” he says, keeping his eyes averted, distracted by everything and anything outside this car.
“We were having a good time, civil even, and I go and ruin it. Danny, I’m so—”
“You’re worrying. Don’t. It’s fine.”
I sit back, feeling deflated and emotionally exhausted from the night. I’m glad th
e hotel isn’t too far. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes, resting them, and ready for this ride to be over.
But then something happens. Something I didn’t see coming.
His hand slides over my wrist and with our palms pressed together, our fingers entwine. I don’t open my eyes. I don’t know why, other than I don’t want his hand to leave mine. My gulp sounds loud to my ears. I hope he can’t hear how nervous I am. Then I hear him gulp and it makes me smile.
Lifting my head, I open my eyes and turn to look down at our joined hands. I don’t take this lightly. The heaviness is felt through our touch, the pressure, and the heat of our palms together.
Keeping his voice low, intimate between us, he says, “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”
“Sexy.”
He looks at me, puzzled by my response.
I continue, “Handsome. Hot. Great in bed. I’ve used them all to describe you.” I give him a small smile that feels good to share. “I might have even used virile once or twice.”
When a small smile appears on his lips, I feel okay again, just like he promised.
The driver speaks too soon. “We’re here.”
Danny’s eyes meet mine, a look exchanged, an understanding that everything might actually be okay. The door is opened and I reluctantly turn to get out. Vinnie and Mark are walking inside and Vinnie holds the door open for me. As I pass, he says, “All better?”
I poke him in the arm. “Revenge is sweet, my friend.”
He laughs. “You’re welcome.”
Turning back, I wink, and meaning it, I mouth, “Thank you.”
As we walk through the lobby, I kind of wish Danny would touch my back again. I don’t know why I found that so incredibly sexy, but I did. Makes me wonder if I should feel bad about liking it as much as I did. I wipe away the guilt that develops and decide one more drink will help me forget a lot quicker.
We reach the bar and find a round booth in the corner. I slip inside, following Vinnie, and Danny slides in right next to me. Mark settles in on the end after Danny. When the waitress takes our orders, Mark gives her a card to cover it all. “I want to settle this now. The drinks are on me.”
