Huffing out a breath, Dante climbed out from behind the wheel. He hadn’t much liked her boss, but if the guy was that close-minded about relationships and work, Dante didn’t relish the idea of sending more business his way. “That’s stupid,” he said as he opened Vicky’s door and took her hand. “You’d be better off starting your own company.”
“Sure. On my waitress salary and total lack of experience.” When he opened his mouth, she covered it with her hand. “And don’t even suggest taking a handout from my brother. This is my life. I’ll fix it.”
He was going to mention finding an investor, not a handout, but it was clear she didn’t want to discuss it at all, so he pressed a kiss to her palm instead. “Wouldn’t think of it.” Her hand drifted down, skating over his chest, and he winced.
She snatched her hand back. “I’m sorry. Does it still hurt?”
“Only a little. It’s more the surprise of sudden contact there than a deep pain, if you know what I mean.” He took her hand in his and led her to the door.
“I’m not positive, but I still feel like I didn’t adequately make it up to you.”
Thinking back to the sex right after their wax play and then how they’d spent most of the next day in bed, he couldn’t agree with her, but he also wasn’t going to disagree. “If you feel so strongly about it, you can apologize again when we get back to my place tonight.”
“I’m spending so much time there now…are you sure you want me around this much?”
More. He wanted her around more. “If I start complaining, you’ll know it’s time to leave.” The instant the door closed behind him, Dante grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his arms. “I should warn you, though, I’m not a big fan of complaining.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She spun out of his arms, and they made their way through the tables. It was interesting to watch her in an atmosphere like this when she’d been on the staffing side of it only last week. She was much more polite to the servers than most people, always saying thank you and taking care to move out of their way rather than expecting them to shift around her. They seemed such little things, but Dante noticed most others treated the staff like background noise. Not that anyone was rude; they just skipped the niceties. Vicky didn’t.
Whether she realized it or not, her working for Elegant Entertainment was kind of like working at the diner for him—it affected how she saw people from there on out. While Dante had always noticed waitstaff at restaurants, this was different. These people didn’t have to be friendly as a way to get better tips, but they responded so much to how Vicky acted with them, making a point of smiling at her and bringing new dishes by them first.
It was strange how he’d never thought about all the other people who helped him in small and big ways since he’d come to L.A. He’d always just focused on the diner since moving, and Lee Corbitt before that. He rubbed at his shoulder, remembering again, part of him still wishing he could forget, could forgive himself. Ever since he’d let Vicky into his life, the old injury had been aching, like a physical reminder that he hadn’t really opened up to her, not in the way he tried to delude himself into believing he had.
They’d been at the party a couple hours when he first caught sight of Reed. The asshole was obviously drunk off his ass, crashing into people and tables. Whether he’d shown up that way or taken too much advantage of the open bar didn’t matter. What did was that it helped Dante get Vicky out of here before the two of them ran into each other.
He managed to lure her away from the display showing the new line that would debut with the film, and they were almost to the door when Saul called his name. Damn it. Ten more feet and they’d have been home free.
He turned, plastering a smile on his face. “Hey, Saul.”
“Planning to leave without saying hello?” The producer’s brows drew together as he glanced at Vicky.
“Just planning to leave before a food or fistfight broke out.” Dante didn’t bother gesturing toward Reed. He didn’t have to; Saul knew exactly who he meant.
“Probably for the best.” He was still staring at Vicky when he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I swear we’ve met before, but I can’t place you. And trust me when I say I’m usually very good at remembering beautiful young actresses.”
Vicky’s cheeks flushed crimson. “I’m not an actress, but we met at your party last week.”
“We did?”
Dante knew Saul would remember her eventually, so trying to pretend she wasn’t the girl he’d caught sneaking out wouldn’t do anyone any good. “Evan’s sister, remember?”
“Oh.” He blinked and looked her up and down—not a lecherous appraisal, more a respectful appreciation. “I’m sorry for not recognizing you sooner. You look lovely, my dear.” He turned to Dante. “A word, please?”
Shit. The longer they were here, the more chance Reed had of getting his hands on Vicky. Dante smiled at her. “Wait for me here? I’ll be right back.”
“How about I wait outside? If I stay near this rich food much longer, I’m going to eat so much I’ll make myself sick.”
Even better. “Sounds good.” As soon as she was out the door, he turned to Saul. “What’s up?”
“Is she your friend’s sister or something more, Dante? I saw how you were looking at her…”
As much as Saul didn’t want his cast mixing with staff, Dante trusted the guy to see this was a different sort of situation. “She’s Evan’s sister first and foremost, but we’ve been seeing more of each other since your party. I don’t know where it’s going, exactly, and she’s nervous about what her boss will say if this gets back to him…” Especially since he’d forced the guy into a corner where the birthday party was concerned.
“I’m going to have a hard time keeping a lid on Reed if you’re dating party staff.”
“You’re going to have a hard time with Reed no matter what I do. We both know that, Saul.” Dante raked a hand through his hair. “She’s not staff. I’m hanging out with my best friend’s sister. If any questions come up, that’s all you have to say.”
Saul let out a harried sigh as a table behind them crashed to the floor. “I don’t need any more bad publicity with this film, Dante. Please remember that.”
“I always do.” He was out the door seconds later, pondering how a romance they were both trying to keep under wraps could possibly lead to any publicity—good or bad. Then he heard Reed yelling from inside and realized they weren’t the only players in the game. Where Reed was around, bad press was almost guaranteed.
…
Dante had to go to the studio for an official movie meeting, and Vicky was on her own for the first time in what felt like forever. She was also at his place, which felt so wrong she wasn’t sure how to handle it. He’d left first thing in the morning, so she’d started with a shower.
Even hunting through the kitchen to find the bowls and some cereal felt like an intrusion. As if peeking behind the white-glazed hardwood doors was somehow invading his sacred space. And now, with the dishes loaded in the dishwasher, she couldn’t figure out what to do with herself. The debate over leaving didn’t last long. He’d be home in a couple hours and they were supposed to do some party planning and then take a long swim in his pool.
No. She needed to stay, which meant she needed to figure out a distraction.
With a bowl of grapes and a glass of water to keep her company, she set her laptop and binder on the bar and took a seat. The tentative guest list was the first thing in her files, and she realized now was the perfect time for the task she’d been avoiding. It was shortly after noon in Detroit, which meant it was time to call Evan.
Vicky bit her lip and pulled up his number. It rang a full three times, and she was readying for it to go to voicemail when her brother came on the line, breathless. “Hey, Vicky. Long time, no hear.”
Had it been? She tried to remember the last time she’d called. It had been before she ran into Dante, probably close to a week before. She hadn
’t called Mom in that long, either. Oops. “Life got a little crazy out here.”
“Tell me about it.”
That sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. He’d tell her to get the hell away from Dante, and now that they’d had sex, she wasn’t willing to give him up that easily. “Well, I got a surprise temporary promotion.”
“What the hell is a temporary promotion? And congrats, I guess?”
That might not have been the right way to go. “It’s temporarily good. It’ll give me some money to pocket away.” She bit her lip for a second. There was no way to tell him about the party without mentioning how she’d gotten the promotion. “It’s actually kind of funny. I was working a party and ran into Dante, of all people.”
“Dante?” The shock in his voice was enough to make her speed through the rest.
“Well, he came up with this idea to throw a dual birthday party for the two of you and convinced my boss that I was the only one to handle it. Hence surprise temporary promotion. I need to talk to you about the guest list.” She bit her lip, praying his reaction wasn’t over-the-top.
“Vicky, what the hell were you thinking?”
Damn. “Career? Money? Getting my life on track?”
He laughed. “I meant more what were you thinking planning a birthday party for me when Stasia’s pregnant and due in less than a month? Dante might not have realized the timing, but you knew.”
Oh, God. She had forgotten completely. “I…I’m so sorry.” What the hell was she going to do? Mathew would fire her when he found out she knew this party couldn’t happen. She had no choice, though; she had to cancel or at least postpone. Thank goodness she hadn’t actually ordered anything yet. “I’ll talk to Dante today, and we’ll call it off.”
A deep sigh echoed over the phone. “No. Stasia would have my head if I hurt your chances at moving up at Elegant. Email me what you have for a guest list so far and the rest of the details. I’ll talk to her.”
“Evan, you don’t have to do that. This was my screwup.”
“You know, it’s kind of crazy, but the biggest thing I’ve learned this past year is that you’ll do a lot for the people you love. Stasia might be a little torqued at me, but she’ll be totally on board with helping you in the only way you’ll let us.” He paused, and Vicky realized she was letting people bail her out…again. Then he continued, “You kicked my ass last year with Stasia, Vicky. She knows that, and we both owe you. Without you, there’d be no baby on the way.”
It still felt wrong, like she wasn’t proving herself with the party. She was just proving who she knew, and who would do anything to build her up again.
And if that was the case, how was she supposed to be strong enough to stand when it all came crashing down around her again?
“But I need to do this on my own. I can’t have everyone bailing me out all the time.”
“Here’s the thing, Vicky, everyone gets bailed out. Yes, learn to do as much as you can on your own because it’s important to not run to people looking for them to fix your shit, but the only ones who have no one helping out are the ones who live alone and off the grid. You have family, you have friends, you have people who want you to be the best damn Vicky Stone you can be.”
He didn’t get it. “That’s great, but you can’t pick me up every time I trip and fall. Or I’ll never learn.”
“That’s funny, because I remember teaching you to ride your bike. Mom or I picked you up every time—until you didn’t need us to anymore. You still learned.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Nope. It’s bigger, because whether or not you learn to ride a bike is pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of life. People help me all the fucking time. You do. Mom does. Stasia sure as hell does. I don’t go it alone unless I have to. That’s the real secret—you need to be strong enough to do it when necessary but vulnerable enough to let others in. A wise person taught me that.”
“Really? Who was that?”
“You, dumbass. Send me the party stuff, and I’ll get back to you tomorrow. Meanwhile, get your head on straight before I send Mom out there to do it for you.”
And that is the very last thing I need.
The part that frightened her the most was the realization that she had been on her own for the last year. She’d been doing all the things that made her life run—if not smoothly, at least without major hiccups. Was she ready to take a step toward opening herself up again? Could she let herself need another person without turning into who she used to be? Was she strong enough?
There was only one way to find out.
And he’d be home in another hour.
Chapter Thirteen
When Dante got home from the meeting, Vicky met him at the door. Her hand was already sliding under his shirt, fingers tripping over his abs before she even said, “I need you.”
It sounded like the exact opposite of everything she’d been telling him about not needing anyone, but it totally fed into his own urge to be there for people he cared about. “Then you’ve got me.”
He let her lead the way upstairs, but as soon as they were on level ground again, she spun around and started kissing him while she unbuttoned his shirt. The feel of her hands and lips made him blind to everything, and when she backed against a door, he opened it without a thought. They fumbled in the darkened room until she sank onto a mattress, pulling him down on top of her.
They rolled until he was on the bottom…and right next to the edge. Which was when it hit him. “Vicks, babe, wrong bed…again.” Teasing, he nipped at her collarbone.
“There’s no such thing as long as you’re the one in it with me.”
The words were like magic to him—everything he wanted to hear. Unfortunately, something was off in her voice as she said it. Not to mention the way she was desperately clawing at his belt, as if its presence personally offended her. “Vicky, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Can’t a girl just want to have sex?”
“Of course you can. I like it. But I also want us to be real with each other.”
At that, her motions stopped. No more clawing, no more stroking, no more anything. “And are we real? Is this?”
That morning, he’d given her a good-bye kiss while she was still lying in the bed they’d had sex in half the night. She’d given him a sleepy “have a great day, I’ll miss you,” and then dozed off before he made it out of the room. He’d been gone five hours. What the hell had happened?
“I’ve never not been real with you. As for this…” He took her hand and slid it against the length of his erection. “If you meant sex, yeah, I’d say the way you get me going is pretty fucking real.” Then he slid her hand up his chest until her palm was flat against the beating of his heart. “If you meant more, I want real. I always have.”
She rolled off him, her body in the path of light carved by the open door, and clawed her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know what’s real anymore. I don’t even know what I want. I thought I did, and then you showed up and turned everything upside down.”
Clearly, she was hurting, and he really didn’t know how to help. Lee Corbitt’s voice started ringing in his head. Stop complicating things. The bigger the question, the harder it is to come up with a solution. Break it down into manageable bits. That’s how you fix big things, son. As much as Dante really didn’t want memories of Lee invading his time with Vicky, the guy had been onto something.
He dragged her fingers from her hair, placing tender kisses on the tip of each one. “Let’s start with right now, this very moment. You said you wanted me, do you? And I don’t mean big picture, I mean right now.”
“Yes.”
Good, because he didn’t think he’d have been able to handle it had she said no. He could help with this little portion of whatever was plaguing her. Then they’d go from there. One step at a time. “Then let me get you naked and make you forget all those other things that are stressing you out. Let me make you think about nothing but this
moment and how very real it is.”
“Okay.”
It wasn’t exactly the kind of enthusiastic response he’d gotten used to the last few days, but at the moment, she wasn’t the same Vicky, either. This wasn’t the woman at the opera or the one with the candle wax. This Vicky needed to be treasured in a way that had nothing to do with rose petals and candlelight. What she needed couldn’t be bought.
Dante stood and tugged her to her feet. His clothes didn’t matter now. It’d be a while before they got around to taking them off. Instead, he eased her shirt over her head, trailing kisses from her collarbone and down her arm as he moved. Then he unzipped the simple skirt she wore and pulled it over her hips, letting his lips linger on the subtle swell of her abdomen. Before they were done, he planned to have his mouth on every inch of her skin.
His thumbs hooked under the edge of her panties, tracing the line along her hip bones, savoring the softness of her skin. Even when he dropped them to the floor, he resisted the urge to focus on sex. This wasn’t about the destination. Today, they were going to savor the journey.
With the gentlest of pressure against her thigh, Dante made Vicky turn around, and his mouth blazed a path from her hip up to the strap of her bra. Rather than the deft, single-handed unhook, he spread his palms flat, caressing her shoulders, massaging some of the tension from her inch by inch. Then, one hook at a time, he undid her bra, holding onto the straps to ease it down her arms while never losing contact with her skin.
His lips found the back of her neck, and he kissed her until she sank against him. Only then did he release her bra and wrap his arms tight around her. She trembled, but she tilted her head, allowing him access to more of her—to all of her. Slowly, he worshipped her body. Not just her breasts or her sex. All of her. Her golden hair and flawless skin, the muscles that played against his every touch, the sweetness of her kiss.
And then the pressure of her nails digging into his arms and her desperate breaths. “Please, Dante…”
Blackmailed by the Hero Page 12
