by Box Set
Hours later, Greg fell asleep with his head in her lap as they watched a movie, and Sylvia kept absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair. She’d figured out how the story was going to end about halfway through, so only part of her was paying attention to the screen.
The other part was circling back to the same questions, over and over.
What happens if he stays? What happens if he goes?
If he stays, will we continue seeing each other? Does he want to? Do I want to, even with all the mess it has brought me?
She only had one clear answer, and it was a definite yes to that last question. She wanted him in her life for as long as she could have him. But what did Greg want? He enjoyed the sex—that, at least, was clear—but was that it? Were they supposed to stop seeing each other when the deal was up? Or maybe keep sleeping with each other, no strings attached, until it was time for Greg to go back to L.A.? Or maybe—
"You're thinking too hard," Greg mumbled, his voice muffled as his face was pressed against her skin.
Sylvia paused her caress, and he grumbled in protest before rolling onto his back to look up at her.
"Sorry I fell asleep," he said. "I must have been more tired than I thought."
"The rehearsals are kicking your butt?" She ran a hand through his hair again. She still had no idea what role Greg was going to play, and she tried not to take it as a bad sign. He'd explained things to her. She was fine.
"A bit, yeah." He caught her other hand in his own and rested them over his stomach as his thumb caressed her fingers. "But I think it's mostly the stress of waiting. I want the wait to be over already so I know where I stand." He drummed his fingers over his chest, right above their joined hands. "Everything should right itself then."
What does “right” mean for us? she wanted to ask, but she sucked her lower lip in to keep quiet.
"Can I do something to help?" she asked instead. She didn't mean anything sexual, but when his gaze dropped to her lips and his hand tightened its grip over hers, Sylvia could feel the stir of heat in her body.
"I think we can find a relaxation technique we could both enjoy very much." His lazy grin made her stomach flip, and she tightened her fingers in his hair, pulling without thinking.
Greg let out a bit-off moan, so she did it again. Next thing Sylvia knew, he was off the couch and reaching out a hand to help pull her up. She chuckled but didn't have to be asked twice. She stood up and let him lead her to the bedroom.
As he walked in front of her, she admired his body once again. The lines of his back muscles were visible through a tight T-shirt and the black jeans were doing amazing things for his ass. Everything about him called to her, inside and out.
At this rate, she was going to end up ruined for other men after this.
When they got to the bedroom, Greg reached for the bottom of her blouse and lifted it, nudging her to raise her arms so that he could pull it all the way off. Then he ran his fingers over the edges of her bra, making her shiver. Sylvia tried to reach out and touch him, as well, but he brought her hands back down.
"Let me," he whispered, leaning in to kiss a line down her neck and along her collarbone until he came up to the strap of her bra. He pushed it off slowly with one finger, then moved to the other side of her body and did the same thing before finally unhooking the bra. He caught it before it fell onto the ground and tossed it onto the armchair where it joined her blouse.
When he ran his hands low on her stomach and over the edge of her jeans, she had a fleeting thought that he was drawing lines on her body only to cross them later on. For some reason, she found it hot beyond belief. It seemed like asking permission and then conquering when she didn't protest, and that made her want to give him more than this if he ever asked. Made her want to give him something he was probably never going to ask for—her heart.
Too late, she thought when he tugged her jeans and panties off of her. Too late, when he guided her to lie in the middle of the bed. Too late, when he covered her body with his, fully dressed, and then kissed, and kissed, and kissed her all over, until she was writhing under him, with her hands clasping the sheets as she came with his tongue inside her.
Worth it, she thought later on, when he was fucking her slowly, making her moan and swallowing the sounds she made as he kissed her until she came again, her body tightening around him and pulling him with her over the edge.
Worth it.
Chapter Twelve
The day Marlow and Dot Entertainment were going to lose their power to take him away from New York, Greg woke up alone in his hotel room. Sylvia had had a ladies’ night with her friends the previous day, and it wasn’t until Greg had gone to bed that it hit him that it was the first night they spent apart since they’d gotten together.
He tossed and turned for hours, coming up with more and more ridiculous reasons for Dot to make him go back. He fell into a restless sleep at some point, but when the alarm went off, the last thing he wanted was to get out of bed.
He finally dragged himself out when it was almost time for him to leave. He rushed through his morning routine and didn’t even check his phone, so he didn’t read any of his messages before he was in the car on the way to the theater.
His agent had sent him a link with added “CALL ME ASAP!!!” note, and Greg felt his stomach clench as he waited for the website to load. What he found there was possibly the most ridiculous article about him that had come out in the recent weeks. The reporter claimed that Greg’s co-star and former girlfriend, Janice Cornwell, had told her friends she and Greg had reconnected and she was hopeful they would get back together.
Reconnected. Greg hadn’t talked to Janice for ages. Sure, they had both attended the Academy Awards earlier in the year, but if sitting in the same room counted as reconnecting, Greg had “reconnected” with a few hundred people that night.
He dropped the phone on the seat next to him. Janice wasn’t a person who would say something like that for a few seconds of fame in the gossip column, so it could be completely made up by the reporter. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time—he’d been through numerous rumors about girlfriends and a few about boyfriends.
But Greg would bet money it was Marlow’s last try to mess with him. It was quite a desperate move, though—not to mention late.
He wished he could call the guy and face this openly. He wanted to tell him to leave him alone and stop messing with his life just because he could. He wanted—
His phone rang and Nate’s ID appeared on the screen. Greg took a deep breath.
“Hello?”
"Hi, I’m glad I caught you early. I don’t know if you saw—”
Greg curled his fingers into a fist. “I saw it. It’s bogus and I’m sure it’s Marlow. The timing’s too convenient.”
“I figured,” Nate said. “That’s why I called. You can’t do anything about it. I get that it pissed you off, I can hear that, but now is not the time to get stupid.”
“I wasn’t actually going to call him,” Greg said, voice tight and too biting. He took a deep breath and was about to apologize, but Nate didn’t give him time.
“Good. It’s nothing but a desperate attempt to stir something. I’d say it’s bark over bite, but it’s not even that. It’s more of a yelp of someone who’s about to throw in a towel."
Greg exhaled slowly. "Why now?"
"To provoke you, to make you act out. It’s the last day, so you start thinking you’re free and maybe you’ll make a mistake. That’s what I’d guess, at least. Because even a half-decent lawyer will tell Dot the article is nothing they can use."
"Okay." Greg’s shoulders dropped. He wasn't going to relax until the day was over, but Nate talked him off the ledge at least. "Do you know if Sylvia has seen it?"
"I don’t think so. She told us yesterday she’s avoiding the Internet." Nate paused. "You haven’t talked to her today?"
"No, not yet. I wanted to come pick her up after work and take her somewhere to celebrate, if
…when it’s over.” Greg stared through the window. Only a few hours left. “I should get the final news this afternoon, and I’ll head to your office straight away.”
“Good, okay. Keep your cool and you’ll be fine,” Nate told him. “See you in a few hours, but call me if anything happens in the meantime.”
They said their goodbyes and Greg disconnected. He needed to call his agent and his publicist, and then he needed to focus on the rehearsal. To hell with Marlow and his stupid tricks, Greg was not going to lose this fight right before it was over.
The rehearsal wasn't a complete disaster, but it was probably his worst day since they'd started. He fumbled the lines a few times and missed the mark once, and he kept losing his focus on the character. He wasn’t the only one tense, either. Everybody knew today was the make-or-break for his chances at staying, and even their unflappable director was on edge.
The day dragged impossibly slow. Every time they called a break, Greg would rush to check his phone under the watchful eye of everyone around him, but it wasn’t until they finished for the day that he found two missed calls from his agent.
He hit redial with a pounding heart.
"You're free," she said before greetings. That was why she was worth every single dollar he was paying her. Possibly more.
Greg sat down on the closest seat, his legs suddenly a little wobbly. "You sure?"
She snorted. "Yes, I'm sure. The contract specifies the end of the day as the end of the business hours on the West Coast, but I got the call early. I think we weren’t the only ones who figured Marlow was messing with you, and they felt bad. But whatever the reason, it’s done. You're free." He could hear her smiling into the phone, and he laughed, refusing to acknowledge the edge of hysteria in it.
"That's… I can't even tell you."
"I have a pretty good idea," she told him. "Listen, I'm really happy for you, and I'm sure you'll be great. I'll be flying down to see it, so you better be."
He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now, go celebrate with the girlfriend. Bye."
Greg couldn't stop grinning. The huge weight that had been crushing him to the ground was suddenly gone, and he almost couldn't believe it. Weeks of waiting for the ax to fall, and now there was no ax. He was free to do what he wanted, he was free to stay in New York, and play on Broadway, and—
And be with Sylvia.
Greg needed to get out of here fast.
He relayed the news to the cast and crew and spent a few minutes celebrating with them, but his mind was miles away already, and he excused himself quickly. He couldn’t wait to get to Sylvia.
He just needed to make a short stop on the way.
During his frequent visits to the F.Y.U. office, Greg had met some of the people working in other offices as they'd waited together for the elevator or rode in one. They’d never talked to him—usually they hadn't even paid him any attention.
This time, though, he was drawing a lot of stares, but not because of who he was. Everyone was looking at the big bouquet he was holding—so big that he couldn't wrap his fingers all the way around it.
A tall, elegant woman with the kind of natural gray hair Greg would never see in Hollywood smiled at him when they were the last two people in the elevator. "She's a lucky woman.”
"I'm a lucky man,” Greg told her, and she nodded, patting him on the arm as the door opened on her floor. "Good answer."
Greg grinned the rest of the way up, and when he arrived at the right floor, he walked into the office with a smile still on his face. He dropped it when he noticed Sylvia’s desk was empty and the only person there was Nate, who raised his eyebrows at the sight of him and the flowers.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Greg looked at the empty chair again. “I’m here for Sylvia.”
“Pity, I really thought the flowers were for me,” Nate told him dryly. “Any good news to share, perhaps?”
He nodded. He really, really wanted to tell Sylvia first, but he wasn’t going to leave Nate hanging. “Great news, even.”
That got him a smile and a pat on the shoulder. “Good for you. But Sylvia’s with Dean and Kevin.” Nate tilted his head down the hall. “They needed a translator, and she’s fluent in French.”
Before Greg could say anything, his phone started ringing in his pocket and he winced, looking around. He didn’t want Sylvia to come in and see him with the flowers and on the phone.
Nate seemed to pick up on it, because he gestured to his office, which was the closest. “Hide there and take your call, I’ll go bug Shawn a bit.”
Greg went into Nate’s office and put down the flowers on the nearest chair before pulling out his phone and seeing his publicist’s ID.
“Hi, Mike.”
“Hey, congratulations on being a free man again.”
Greg sat back on the couch, straightening his legs in front of him. “Thanks. I have to say, it feels amazing.”
“I bet,” Mike said, but then he grunted like he did every time he was about to say something he wasn’t sure Greg was going to like, and that made Greg tense again.
“What is it?”
“Marlow called me.”
Greg frowned. “What?” He thought they were through. What the hell was that guy doing?
“He claimed he saw that article that came out today and it got him thinking—”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I wish. He basically said that he knew there was bad blood between the two of you and he wished to mend fences. Starting with, as he said, doing everything he could to help you rekindle your relationship with Janice—”
“There’s no relationship!” Greg protested, rubbing the back of his neck. This was ridiculous.
“I know that. I told him you weren’t interested, but he insisted on me at least relaying the message.”
“What the hell?”
Mike snorted. “I don’t know.”
“Whatever, I don’t care. I’m not going to be dragged into a relationship against my will.” Especially when I’m already in one.
“Okay, okay, I get it. Don’t shoot the messenger. I only wanted to let you know.”
Greg stood up and turned to stare at the view of New York through the wall windows in Nate’s office. This entire conversation was bizarre, and he needed to end it. “Fine. I guess I need to consult a lawyer, check if there’s any chance of enforcing Dot to get Marlow as far away from me as possible, because that’s beyond insane. But I’ll take care of this later. Right now, I need to go.”
After they said their goodbyes, Greg disconnected and put his phone back into his pocket. He rolled his shoulders and tried to regain his good mood. He was free, and that was all that mattered.
Something clattered out in the foyer and he rushed out of Nate’s office to see Sylvia, who froze when she caught his gaze. Her purse was on the floor, about half the contents spread around her feet.
Before he could say or do anything, she grabbed her bag from the floor and almost sprinted out the front door of the office.
Greg froze in place and watched through tinted glass as she bypassed the elevator and went for the stairs. What just happened?
"What the hell did you do?" came a male voice from his left. Kevin, the company's computer specialist, stood with his arms crossed against his chest. He was usually pretty upbeat, but now he looked like he was considering punching Greg if he didn’t like his answer.
"I don't—" Greg frowned. "I came to tell her I'm free. I brought flowers and…" He shook his head. On the other side of the corridor, the door opened, and he didn’t need to turn to know Nate and Shawn were listening now, too.
Kevin raised his eyebrows. "And what?"
"And nothing. I came here, she was busy. I’d have waited out here, but I had to take a phone call, and Nate let me use his office.” Greg stared at the front door, wishing Sylvia would come back. He wanted a do-over without that stupid call. “I was in here for a few minutes, and I heard somethi
ng hit the floor, so I figured she was probably back, but the second she saw me, she ran.” Greg looked down at Sylvia’s stuff, still lying on the floor next to her desk. "I don't know what I did," he added quietly.
“She was fine less than five minutes ago.” Kevin shoved his hands into his pockets, no longer looking as he was about to punch him. “Could she have overheard something she wouldn’t like?”
"I don’t…” And then it hit him. “Oh fuck.”
He ran after her, ignoring Kevin and the other guys. He needed to get to Sylvia.
Chapter Thirteen
Sylvia hurried down the stairs as if someone was chasing her. He won’t, he doesn’t care. She was glad no one was around to see her like this. The last thing she wanted now was for anyone to see her cry, and there was no stopping the tears from falling.
Everything was blurry, and she was getting out of breath, both from running and the crying, so she finally paused on the second floor, dropping down on the last step.
And because the universe didn’t hate her enough, that was also the moment the door to the stairwell opened and a petite woman with black, curly hair appeared, one hand tightened on a pen she was clicking on and off, over and over. She froze when she saw Sylvia and, for a few seconds, they simply stared at each other without a word.
Then the woman looked down at her pen and dropped it into her bag before pulling out tissues.
“Here,” she said quietly, handing them to Sylvia.
“Thanks.”
Sylvia knew she was going to be embarrassed tomorrow, but for now, she suddenly didn’t have it in her to care. She focused on trying to stop the flood of tears and hopefully get herself together enough to go back home.
But it was hard when Greg’s conversation played over and over in her head.
There’s no relationship. The words alone would be enough to hurt her, to crush her hopes, but the vehemence with which he’d said it was even worse.
