by Taylor Hart
“Right.” It startled her to realize she was actually enjoying talking to him. “But the best part was when Rome and Egypt began fighting, it was really Roman soldier against Roman soldier because Mark Antony’s army was not fighting for Egypt. So Mark Antony’s soldiers began defecting and fighting for Rome, and the war was won.”
“A good bromance.” He nodded.
Her heart warmed, and she could feel the sides of her face kind of hurting from smiling so wide. “A bromance with betrayal.”
He snorted. “Sounds like my real life.”
She wondered what he was talking about, but continued without prying. “Octavius was later named Augustus, meaning beloved, by the people of Rome.”
Sterling frowned at her, staring deeply into her eyes. “I don’t know if you are really a guide in Rome or if this is all an act.”
Her heart rate spiked, and she looked away. “That’s the point of this date, right? It’s whatever you want. Just three hours.” She shrugged. “Probably nearly two now.”
Gently loosening his hold on her, he let out a long sigh. “True.” He cleared his throat. “The photo op should be in about an hour, and then you can go. You don’t have to stay until midnight.”
For a moment, she was relieved. Then a surprising pang of disappointment fell through her. “Okay.”
Another waltz began, and he put his hand out, pulling her in. “Unless you want to.”
She didn’t respond, not sure if she really would want to or not. Feeling confused at the way the night had gone so far, a faint pang of guilt settled into her. She’d forgotten Rob completely for a few moments.
Pushing away the guilt, she focused on the setting. Dancing, the sunset, the beautiful décor, and, most importantly, the gardens of the property. She found herself itching for her camera.
“You smell good,” he whispered, and she flinched back, not realizing he was that close to her ear.
A round of butterflies stirred in her lower stomach.
He narrowed his eyes. “What is that scent? Is it Parisian?”
If a guy like Sterling Pennington had any idea who he was on a date with, he never would have asked if it was from Paris. A small burst of laughter escaped. “Uh, yeah.” She broke character. “Try cheap marina scent.”
When his brows furrowed, she found herself wishing she hadn’t said that. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Surveying her up and down, he kept dancing. “Well, I like it.”
They danced out the rest of the song as butterflies flew complicated formations in her gut. Focus. Focus. Focus.
A tall guy wearing cowboy boots and a hat sauntered toward them with a big grin on his face. He wasn’t wearing a mask.
“Sterling Pennington, how the heck are ya?” The guy slapped him on the back. She heard a slight cough come out of Sterling.
“Hunter.” Ever polite, he nodded to her. “This is Sayla Jones.” He looked back to the man. “Hunter James.”
Before she knew what was happening, Hunter had her hand and was pumping it. “Nice to meet you.” He let out a whoop of a laugh and turned to Sterling. “Nice to see you with a new someone.”
Sterling looked caught, and Sayla let out a light laugh. “This is our first date.” With the reprieve, Sterling’s movie star smile slipped back into place.
Hunter’s grin widened, and he walloped Sterling on the back again. “Good for you.”
Glancing around, Sterling asked, “Where’s Summer?”
Hunter sighed. “Not feeling well.”
Sayla tried to remember where she’d seen Hunter before.
“Sorry to hear that.” Sterling narrowed his eyes at Hunter. “What’s wrong with her? I saw her at the gallery yesterday, and she seemed fine.”
Hunter answered with a steady gaze. “She’s fine, really. She told me if I saw you to ask if you wanted to come out next Sunday for dinner.”
Shaking his head, Sterling said, “Can’t. But the next Sunday?”
A satisfied grin spread wide across Hunter’s face, and he waved to someone else. “Sounds good. I’ll catch you later, man.” He nodded to Sayla. “Nice to meet you.” He snapped his fingers. “You should come with him for dinner.”
Knowing Hunter was just being polite, Sayla put on a fake smile. “Sounds good.” She wasn’t going to explain, and it was obvious Sterling didn’t want to explain either.
Hunter walked on, and Sterling glanced her way as she watched him go. He asked, “Why doesn’t he have a mask on?”
The question seemed rhetorical, but she answered anyway. “Doesn’t seem like the kind to care if he impresses people or not.” Sayla knew Hunter’s type. Obviously, he had the posture of a soldier along with the fame to be at the event. She turned to Sterling. “He’s the kind of guy who got into this party because he takes risks in his life, right?”
At first, Sterling didn’t answer. Then he flashed a smile. A real smile, not the fake media one. “Stunningly attractive, and she has mad skills for deconstructing people.”
She felt caught by his use of the word, but she decided to give him more than he’d bargained for if he thought he was catching in her in a lie using big words. She grinned back at him. “Oh, you mean like deciphering which character you’re playing too? Easy. You’re Nicholas, if the clip from the movie trailer is any indication.”
Now he frowned, and there was an edge to his voice. “Since you apparently can see me, it’s only fair I get to see you. Why don’t you take off your mask?”
Hesitating, she didn’t know if she should comply.
Sterling pulled her to him, and his breath was warm on her face. “Take your mask off.”
“No,” she said evenly.
There was urgency in his voice. “Take it off.”
The song ended.
She pulled back. “No.”
While people around them clapped, Sterling and Sayla simply stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. It was intimate and uncomfortable, but it also felt like another type of challenge, and no matter what, she would not let this date get beyond the mask.
If she was good at anything, it was keeping up walls.
Another slow song came on, and she gently reached for his hands, her heartbeat thrumming from more than just trying to keep up a façade. She felt something deeper, a connection, more than anything she’d felt since Rob.
Sterling’s feet were glued to the dance floor.
It was getting awkward. “We’re out here to dance.” She insisted.
“Not until I see your face.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Listen,” she said, putting on a quick smile. “I don’t care what character you play tonight. Remember, none of this is real. We’re both here getting something out of the night. I get …” She paused, not liking the fact she was getting paid. “Money I need. You get your photo op.”
He finally began dancing, but not at a pace the music called for. She didn’t say anything. She figured any kind of movement was better than none. Luckily, the dance floor was crowded, and no one noticed them. Truthfully, she’d been nervous before, but acting a part was easy. The idea of actually taking the mask off and being herself was impossible.
Note to self, don’t call Sterling Pennington on the fact he pretends to be characters from movies.
The song got faster, and he increased their pace. It was a country western song, and he easily guided her into a two-step then a rock-step. Then he began taking her out and back in complicated twists and turns.
It was exhilarating, and all the dance moves she’d learned came back to her. The thing Sterling had on Rob was that he was clearly a professional dancer. At the very least, she was sure he’d been trained by a professional. He was good. Almost too good for her.
She tripped and felt him quickly catch her and adjust his footing to cover the trip. He threw her back into the dancing, seeming to be making some kind of point.
In the end, it left her breathless, and once again, they stared into each other�
�s eyes. They had both worked up a light sweat, and she smelled the citrus scent of him even more powerfully.
Something was happening. There was something between them that, without even speaking, was stripping away everything else. There was an intensity in his eyes. She felt connected to him. She could feel pain, anger, and an instinct to devour her. Like an animal taking down another who challenged the order of the pack. It was disconcerting, but also exhilarating. She’d felt this many times at the different schools she’d attended. There’d been almost a new school every year until she’d finally run away for good from the foster care system and lived on the streets. It was the need to conquer another in order to establish one’s own place in the group.
The song ended, and without asking, Sterling kept her hand inside his and pulled her across the dance floor. She had to move fast, nearly stumbling in the stilettos Caleb’s team had forced onto her feet after scrubbing her down and cleaning her up. The hairspray and product in her hair was melting a bit against her hairline. She wasn’t used to product and makeup and all the dancing. Everything about her felt hot and sticky.
The sun was beginning to set across the Teton Mountains, and the air began to cool. As it often did in the mountains, it provided almost instant relief against the heat of the day.
Getting to a table, he paused and dropped her hand, reaching for two glasses of water passing by them on a server’s tray.
Sterling shoved one at her. “Here.” He guzzled his and put it down on the table next to him.
She sipped cautiously, keeping her eyes on him. He wore a slightly crazed expression, and she knew she had to be careful and direct them both back to niceties. Just get through this date and get out of there.
She finished sipping and put the glass lightly down on the table.
With a rugged look, he turned his body halfway to her. “Tell me something real about you.”
It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d want to really know her. After all, he was Sterling Pennington. He could date anyone he wanted—as countless pictures with different women on the Internet had proven earlier that day. She frowned.
“One thing.” His lips were pinched. Every part of him looked wound up. “That’s real.”
“Why?” She blurted out not knowing how to play this.
His eyes flashed away then back to her. “Because no one, except my agent, has ever recognized when I slipped into a character.”
“No one?” she asked doubtfully. “What about Kim?” It’d been a very public relationship.
The top left part of his lip tugged up. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Or the last twenty women you dated?” She’d seen the reel of pictures with celebrities and models on his arm. For some reason, this now made her nervous, and she realized her palms were sweaty.
“Not one of those women ever …” He trailed off. “So what? I’ve dated a lot. It doesn’t mean anything.”
She couldn’t help but shake her head. “Obviously nothing means anything to you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Right, like you would know anything about the cost it takes to fit into Hollywood.”
She didn’t like telling anyone anything about herself, even under normal situations. But this was supposed to be fake, right? “Well, I studied in Paris for a year.” She kept her chin up in defiance, daring him to question her.
“Liar,” he said, turning away and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Man, I hate these parties.”
She watched him. She would have thought he was the kind that loved these parties. After all, he was a giant in his field. He was at the top of his career. Every blockbuster coming out had him in it.
He turned back. “One thing.” His voice was soft now.
Unable to think of any reason he would want to know anything real about her, she sighed. “We’re never seeing each other after tonight.”
He hesitated then gave a firm nod. “True, so what does it matter?”
“I just told you something real.” She pointed out feeling clever.
He glared at her. “You know that’s not what I meant. One thing.”
She glared back, not liking it when people tried to make her do things. If there was one thing she loved about being an adult, it was being able to do whatever she wanted. No foster care, no social workers, no being something or saying something she didn’t want to say. “No.”
He sighed and his blue eyes turned clouded.
“Why do you care so much?”
Turning away from her, he shook his head and sucked in a breath. Then he whirled back. “Because my whole life is fake. Every part I play, I lose more of myself. The last relationship I had was completely fake.” He stopped, keeping his focus on her.
“That’s obvious.”
He let out another breath and shook his head. “See, I don’t think it is. The press devoured it. The public absolutely could not get enough of …” He air quoted. “KimSterl.” He shrugged. “Shoot, I almost believed it sometimes. Then I’d look at Kim and think—what am I doing, wasting so much time with this woman?” He shrugged. “Then I’d remember the contract for the movie and the image my agent wanted and the life I’ve chosen. So I played my part.”
“But every time you play someone else, your life feels more and more blurry,” she said softly.
He winced, but held her gaze.
The words tumbled out of her. “I grew up in foster care. Four different elementary schools. Two different junior highs. Two different high schools.” She shrugged. “Not to mention the constant shuffling from family to family.” She felt her insecurities rising. “I’ve played many roles. Lots I’m not proud of.” She shuddered, thinking about things that had happened to her during that search for love and acceptance. “So I get it. I recognize a phony when I see one.”
He kept a laser-like focus on her.
Her heart beat rapidly. This was not how she had seen the night going. Not at all.
“You think I’m a phony?”
She shrugged. “We’re all phonies.” She looked at her hands. “For a while, I believed things were different, people were different. That there were people who were real and who really cared.” She stared back into Sterling’s eyes. “But the man who convinced me of that died. So now I don’t believe anything.”
Awkward.
That was the only way to describe the next couple of seconds that could have been eons of time between them.
She watched as Sterling’s eyes turned a bit misty, and she realized this wasn’t fake. This wasn’t him playing some role.
Gently Sterling reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t know what to say. It felt like the walls she’d worked to so perfectly construct had all just fallen away. So she covered, taking his hand. “I like pink.”
“What?” He blinked.
“You wanted something real. I like pink. Total cliché, girl color, but it’s my favorite.”
A smile touched his face.
“Okay, now you go.”
He let out a breath. “This really wasn’t what I meant.”
“You can’t even tell me your favorite color?”
“Blue,” he said with finality.
She put on a fake smile. “See, now we’re practically bosom friends.”
Giving her a skeptical look, he cocked an eyebrow. “Bosom friends?”
She wagged her finger at him. “If you haven’t watched Anne of Green Gables, I don’t even know how you can say you know anything about good films or directing or characters.”
He grinned. “Anne of Green Gables, huh?” He took her slowly back out to the dance floor. Pulling her in, he inhaled deeply and took them into a slow dance. One hand rested on her hip while the other curled around hers. “I’ll have to watch it.”
Her heart fluttered almost painfully. What was happening? How had she suddenly felt so connected to him? “It’s the best. Go watch it after our date. If you want to be the best, you have to see the chemistry b
etween Gilbert and Anne.” She nodded fervently. “Anne with an E.”
His lip twitched up, and their steps fell together in seemingly perfect harmony. “Okay, I will.” He inhaled deeply into her neck. “Can I know the real smell of you?”
She sighed, hating the way his touch affected her. “I get it at the marina I work at. I think it’s called Ocean Breeze.”
“I like it.”
They danced for a few minutes. Neither of them said a word. The new realness between them made her feel guarded, as if she had to protect raw nerves from being touched.
“Have you ever been to Rome?” he asked.
Maybe it was fine if he knew the truth about some things. “Nope, but I’ve read travel books people leave in their cabins. Henry doesn’t care if I keep them.” She flashed a smile, wondering what he would think of this. “My favorite is the trap doors beneath the floor of the Coliseum. How the animals would appear when the gladiators got boring and the game maker would call for more excitement.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, you have to go. It’s astounding to see the history. To feel the excitement and the brutality that must have existed in Rome back then.”
It made her excited to hear about it. She confessed. “I want to. I’ve been planning a trip.”
His smile widened. “When?”
She shrugged again. She didn’t want to explain the stupid procedure she needed before she could book her ticket.
His eyes took on a faraway look before he shook his head and turned back to her.
“What was that? You were somewhere else just now.”
He furrowed his brow and turned away. “Nothing.”
“What was it?” Purposefully, she smiled at him. “Did you get in trouble for daydreaming at school too?”
Giving her an intense gaze, he nodded firmly. “Actually, I did.” He let out a light laugh.
“Where were you just a second ago?”
He leaned in, and she could feel his breath on her ear. “No.”
She shivered and instantly tried to push away from him. She glared at him, hating the attraction she felt for him. “I told you a lot. You at least have to tell me what you were just thinking about.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he swallowed. Then nodded. “My agent told me you need some type of surgery.”
