by Julie James
He was not particularly surprised when Jason rejoined him on the balcony that evening, in a huff and alone. He personally thought Jason was approaching this thing with Taylor in entirely the wrong way. But once his friend set his mind to something, it was nearly impossible to steer him in a different direction.
“Any luck?” Jeremy asked as Jason pulled up alongside him at the balcony’s ledge, where they had a good view of the party below.
“Maybe . . .” Jason mused. He looked over with annoyance when he saw that Jeremy was smoking so close to the house. But he said nothing, as smoking was a necessary part of Jeremy’s life and something that anyone close to him inevitably had to accept.
“Maybe how?” Jeremy exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth.
Jason considered this. “I think I’m starting to get to her.”
“I bet that’s what she’s telling Hayden Stone right now.”
Jeremy nodded to the party below, where Taylor was engaged in what appeared to be a friendly conversation with the good-looking director.
With a look of disbelief, Jason pulled back from the ledge.
“I don’t get it,” he said, frustrated. “She should be coming up here right now to tell me she changed her mind. Or waiting in my bedroom, naked, to surprise me. Or giving you a secret message that I should meet her in the gazebo, where she’ll be waiting, naked. Or in the bathtub, with bubbles, champagne, and—”
“Naked. I get the point.”
“The point, Jeremiah, is that this is not how things were supposed to go tonight.”
Jeremy reached out and solemnly put his hand on the Sexiest Man Alive’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Jason. But maybe she’s just not that into you.”
It was a joke, but Jason’s face suddenly filled with worry. “Do you really think that could be it?”
Despite the fact that he generally enjoyed any fun that could be had at Jason’s expense, Jeremy felt a little bad seeing the look of concern on his friend’s face.
“No, I actually don’t think that’s it,” he said. “But I also don’t think she’s going to admit how she feels.”
The words seemed to reinvigorate Jason. “Well, too bad for her.” He ignored the look Jeremy gave him. “Hey—don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying this game of hard to get she’s playing. It’s been like three weeks of foreplay.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. The comment wasn’t even worth responding to.
“But it’s time for things to start moving along, to where she and I both know this is headed,” Jason continued.
“And I suppose, Evil Genius, that you have just the plan to accomplish this?” Jeremy paused when he saw the sly smile on Jason’s face. “You actually do have a plan, don’t you?”
“I do,” Jason said proudly.
“Do I even dare to ask what this plan might be?”
“Every woman’s weakness,” Jason told him. “Jealousy.” He folded his arms and leaned back against the balcony ledge. “Let her see me with someone else, and then we’ll see how stubborn she is.”
Jeremy waved this off. “Taylor’s hardly the type to get into some catfight for you.”
“That’s not what I’m looking for,” Jason said. Then he paused, as if suddenly getting the visual. “As hot as that might be . . .”
Jason shook this off. “Look—all I need is to see her reaction. Trust me, I know how a woman looks when she’s upset with me. And if she’s upset, that means she’s jealous, and that tells me everything I need to know.”
Jeremy shook his head. “This is not a good plan. I’ll tell you what—I’ve got a better idea for you.”
Curious, Jason leaned in as Jeremy lowered his voice conspiratorially.
“Now I know it’s a bit radical, but in desperate times—”
Jeremy paused dramatically.
“Give her . . . time to trust you.”
He glanced around furtively to make sure no one had overheard his devious plot.
Jason glared, unamused by Jeremy’s antics. “I don’t want to give her time to trust me. That’ll take too long.”
“So what if it does?” Jeremy asked. “Are you going somewhere? Dying? I better get the Aston Martin.”
“I’m just tired of waiting,” Jason said. “I want to know how she feels. I need to know how she feels.”
Jeremy glanced over, intrigued by this choice of words.
But seemingly not wanting to discuss the matter further, Jason turned away and headed back inside the house.
UNDERNEATH THE BALCONY, Scott and Rob huddled in a corner of the patio, out of view. They had just overheard everything Jason had said.
Scott grinned victoriously. “I told you they weren’t together.”
Rob nodded. “It’s the same thing I saw in Vegas—he has seriously got a thing for that girl.” He peeked around the corner, trying to get a better look at Taylor. “I wonder what her deal is? I mean, the guy could get anyone he wants.”
Scott yanked Rob back into the alcove. Perhaps a little rougher than necessary.
“Hey,” Rob complained, fixing his shirt. “I just meant, what’s so special about her?”
Scott thought about this for a moment. “You know, I think we should find out.” He moved Rob aside in order to have an unobstructed view of Taylor. “I think it’s about time that Jason Andrews’s Mystery Woman became a little less of a mystery.” With a purposeful grin, he headed back into the party.
Rob watched him go, calling after him. “Great! Sounds like a plan.” He pointed to the buffet table. “I’m just gonna grab a few snacks first.”
Sixteen
JASON FOUND NAOMI Cross out by the koi pond, chatting intimately with a group of women. He approached her with a warm smile.
“Hello, Naomi. Are you enjoying yourself?”
The actress turned when she heard Jason’s voice. She was long and blonde and tan, appearing every inch the California girl until she spoke.
“Darling, you know I always enjoy myself at your parties. I’d never miss one.” Her smooth British accent was the only indication that she was London born and bred.
“Got a second?” Jason gestured to a table off to the side. When Naomi nodded, he led her away from her girlfriends.
As Jason was about to sit down at the table, he spotted Taylor across the pool, still talking to Hayden Stone. Deciding it was high time to put an end to that, he grabbed a bouncer who was walking by.
“Got a cell phone?”
The bouncer nodded affirmatively.
“Good.” Jason pointed. “Hayden Stone is over there, talking to a dark-haired woman. Walk up to him with the cell phone and say that his wife wants to speak with him.”
Satisfied when he saw the bouncer take off in Taylor’s direction—that should take care of that—Jason joined Naomi at the table.
“So Cindy told me that she and Marty have been talking,” Naomi said, referring to her publicist.
“The two of them seem to be quite the matchmakers these days. Marty suggested that you and I have drinks at the Peninsula.” Jason rolled his eyes at the unoriginality of the idea. “It was the same place he sent Jen and Vince before the release of The Break-Up.”
The two actors shared a grin. Although this was the first time they’d worked together, they had known each other for years and got along well.
“Drinks at the Peninsula?” Naomi laughed. “I give it three weeks before the tabloids say we’re engaged.”
“And five before you’re pregnant.”
Naomi groaned. “Another bump watch. Cindy would love it.”
Jason leaned in, peering at her across the table. It was time to get down to business. “Naomi—I need to ask you for a favor. There’s something I’d like you to help me out with tonight.”
Always one for a good intrigue, Naomi met Jason halfway across the table, tilting her head in toward his. She lowered her voice to a secretive whisper.
“What exactly did you have in mind, darling?”
While Taylor was talking to the director, she couldn’t help but see Jason out of the corner of her eye, sitting at a table near the pool with Naomi Cross. She recalled the People magazine article Linda had given her a few weeks ago that suggested Naomi was Jason’s “next conquest.”
A few weeks ago, Taylor could have cared less about such gossip. But now, for some reason, seeing them together made her stomach feel as though it was tied up in knots.
She forced herself to look away from Jason and the actress, just as Hayden wrapped up his ten-minute diatribe on the protagonist’s “character arc.”
“So that’s the point where we see that the character has really come full circle,” he said. “What do you think?”
Taylor blushed at the question. This really was not her field of expertise.
“Oh, I’m not the right person to ask,” she said lightly. “I don’t see that many romantic comedies.”
“Dramedies,” Hayden corrected her. “And why is that? You don’t believe in love?”
Taylor was momentarily put off by his bluntness. But she grinned, trying to play nice. “Of course I believe in love.” She deliberately put just a tinge of mocking emphasis on the word. “Although I’m not sure I believe in love like you see in movies.”
Hayden appeared to like this challenge. In the Hollywood food chain, as Taylor quickly was about to learn, the only person more arrogant and self-assured than an Oscar-winning actor was an Oscar-winning director.
“Oh? What is it you don’t believe in?”
Under his probing gaze, Taylor suddenly felt like she was back in law school, being grilled by her torts professor over the court’s holding in Hadley v. Baxendale.
“I don’t know . . .” she said, shifting her drink to the other hand. She saw that the director was not going to let her off that easily. “I suppose it’s the idea that there’s one person out there for you. The so-called perfect match. It’s not a logical concept.”
Taylor quickly glanced around the party, looking for a way out. This whole conversation had turned a little flighty for her taste.
Hayden rocked back and forth on his heels, smug in his obvious superior knowledge on the subject.
“You know, just because love like that hasn’t happened to you doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
At this, Taylor tried to recall what her torts professor had said about justification being a legal defense to smacking someone upside the head. But she managed to resist the urge to find out.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she said to Hayden with a polite smile. “I suppose I’m not your target audience, that’s all.”
Hayden leaned in closer. “Let me give you a bit of friendly advice, Taylor. Life isn’t always about logic and reason—sometimes you just have to close your eyes and jump. Particularly when it comes to relationships.”
Taylor tried to keep from rolling her eyes. It now was most definitely time to make her escape.
But Hayden, apparently (and quite mistakenly) believing his conversation skills were charming, moved closer to her.
“But perhaps we could continue this discussion further. Maybe sometime over dinner?”
Taylor shook her head regretfully. “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m really too busy with work these days.”
Hayden appeared quite offended—and surprised—by the rejection. “Is there a problem here? I own a restaurant with Bruckheimer, you know.”
Taylor tried not to smile. Ahh . . . Hollywood. Just when you might think all the stereotypes and clichés aren’t true, you realize, yep—they are.
She gave Hayden a look. “Aren’t you married?” Everyone knew his wife was an actress who had been in two of his movies.
“Separated,” he said insistently. “I haven’t spoken to my wife in months.”
Just then, a bouncer walked up to Hayden and Taylor, holding a cell phone.
“Excuse me, Mr. Stone—but your wife is on the phone for you.”
Taylor watched in amusement as the director’s face turned red with embarrassment.
“And on that note . . . I think I’ll go,” she said.
She headed off to find a bathroom, the one place she hoped Hayden Stone wouldn’t try to follow her.
THE GUEST BATHROOM of the pool house had been richly designed in beige-and-black marble and dark mahogany wood, with a separate lounge area. With an appreciative glance, the lawyer in Taylor couldn’t help but think that if Jason ever did get married, he better have one hell of a prenup.
She had just shut the bathroom door when she heard the loud, gossipy voices of two women entering the lounge.
“It has to be her,” the first voice was saying. “She looks just like the woman in that photograph on the balcony at the Bellagio. And didn’t you see the way he stared when she first walked into the party?”
“But I thought he and Naomi Cross were supposedly hooking up on set,” the second voice said. “You know Amanda, who works in the mail room at Marty Shepherd’s firm? She told me that.”
It took her a moment, but Taylor realized that the women were talking about her and Jason. Such petty gossip. Thankfully, she was above that kind of nonsense.
She pressed her ear tightly against the door to hear better.
“That thing about Naomi is just a rumor,” the first woman said knowingly. “You know Max, the waiter at Mr. Chow? He told me that he was there when Jason had dinner with the Mystery Woman, and that he couldn’t take his eyes off her.”
Without meaning to, Taylor smiled at this.
“And supposedly,” the woman continued, “she made him smile. A lot.”
Taylor quickly thought back to their dinner. Yes . . . she had been particularly charming that evening.
“Do you think she’s a model?” the second woman asked.
A model? Wow. Behind the door, Taylor proudly tossed her hair back over her shoulders.
“I bet she has extensions.”
Taylor stopped, mid hair-toss. Her mouth opened defensively. Hold on there.
“And I think she’s got lip implants.” The second woman raised her voice in a mocking imitation. “Excuse me, doctor, I’d like the Angelina Jolie.”
Taylor’s hand self-consciously flew to her mouth.
“And what about her boobs?”
Taylor peered down at her chest. Okay—wait just a second there—
She heard the other woman scoff.
“Are you kidding? Who actually has real boobs anymore?”
“I don’t know—maybe that’s why Jason was smiling so much during their dinner.”
The two women shared a laugh at this.
Taylor heard their voices fade as they left the bathroom. She cautiously opened the door, stepped out into the lounge, and headed over to the mirror.
Of all the things the little trixies had said, two comments stuck with her most.
Jason had dinner with the Mystery Woman, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
And supposedly, she made him smile. A lot.
Taylor couldn’t help it—she felt a rush of excitement hearing this. She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
What had gotten into her these past few weeks?
First, she’d almost kissed Jason in Vegas. Then she’d made the decision to come to his party despite the fact that there was a pile of work waiting for her at home. Despite the fact that she definitely knew better.
Standing there, her mind wandered back to the way Jason had greeted her when she’d first walked into the party. He’d looked really happy to
see her.
Maybe that look was genuine.
Maybe it wouldn’t kill her to be a little less cynical.
Maybe she should . . . well, she didn’t know exactly how to finish that thought, but maybe just thinking “maybe” was enough for now.
So Taylor gave herself a long, hard look in the mirror.
Then she smiled.
She turned and headed out of the bathroom, ready to rejoin the party. But she stopped just before she reached the door and glanced back in the mirror. She paused, then most discretely adjusted her dress to show a tad more cleavage.
Fake, huh?
Taylor grinned knowingly.
Like hell they were.
TAYLOR HAD JUST stopped off at the bar to refresh her drink when she heard a familiar drawl behind her.
“There you are, Ms. Donovan . . .”
A smile crossed her face. Just the man she was looking for. With a coy toss of her hair, she turned around and—
Found herself staring right at Naomi Cross.
Jason graciously made the introductions. “Taylor, I thought you might like to meet Naomi. She’s one of my costars in the film you’re helping me out with.”
He turned to the actress to explain. “Taylor’s the attorney I’ve been consulting on the script.”
Naomi shook Taylor’s hand. “Oh, so you’re the one who’s responsible for all the last-minute page changes they keep sliding under my trailer door.”
Recovering from her fluster at encountering the actress, Taylor smiled. “Sorry—I’m sure I’m being way too picky with all the legal issues.”
Naomi dismissed this. “It’s not your fault. The whole shoot has been a challenge, particularly with the schedule the director is trying to keep.” She glanced back at Jason and, after a slight pause, wrapped her arms around his neck.
“That’s why this weekend will be so great, darling.” With a grin, she turned back to Taylor. “Did Jason tell you? We’re sneaking off to Napa Valley—just the two of us.”
