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“No idea,” he murmured, leaning in close so I could feel his breath fanning my ear. “Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?”
I couldn’t help but smile. The dress his stylist, Franco, picked for me was amazing. It was one shouldered and fit through the torso, but it flowed long down to my ankles. In a bright grass green, it was simple, but elegant. I chose to put my hair up in a loose bun at the nape of my neck with tendrils hanging down. I skipped jewelry and put on the minimal makeup I brought in my suitcase.
“About five times.”
“That’s all?” With pressure on my waist, he stopped me. I looked into his eyes. He’d cleaned up too, in tan pants, a pale blue button up shirt that was left untucked. His hair, his infamous locks, were combed, but still unruly. He’d shaved and looked sexy and glamourous but not over the top. And he was with me.
“Then I’ll have to keep telling you because that’s not enough.”
I couldn’t help it. I kissed him. Right in the fancy mansion’s foyer.
“There you two are.”
I pulled away, a little embarrassed at being caught. But it was Sam and since he was a little bit of a creep–or that was the vibe I got off him when we met at the house–I didn’t really care. He knew we were dating. Or fake dating. Or he knew I was here to support Luke. Gah. Whatever.
The guys shook hands. “I saw Chris but didn’t get a chance to talk to him. Gonna have to work it, buddy.”
Luke’s eyes took on a determined gleam, very much like that first night we were together, and I told him a man had never made me come. “On it.”
“Just gotta schmooze tonight. Pull out those acting chops.”
Luke took my hand, looked to me. “I can do that.”
“Aspen, too,” Sam said. “For a yoga instructor, you’re gonna need to be a talented actress. Lacey’s out and the whole rehab debacle is forgotten news.”
Oh fuck. From one second to the next, I remembered. I was here for a job. A role. A purpose. Luke squeezed my fingers and led me away and toward the bar. Yeah, I needed a drink.
34
LUKE
* * *
Sam was an asshole. While he’d been honest, he didn’t have a diplomatic bone in his fucking body. I felt the second Aspen tensed at his comments about her being an actress. We’d been kissing, which wasn’t fake at all, and then he reminded both of us that all she was here for was to make me look good.
Aspen was more than arm candy. She was stunning in that dress, but she was stunning completely bare. Or hiking in the woods with a couple kids. Or leading one of her yoga classes. Hell, even hungover. Besides my parents, she was the only one I met who grounded me, who made me see how fucked up and shallow everyone around me was. If someone needed to change, it wasn’t Aspen.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
I looked to Aspen. “White wine, please.”
If I got this part, and fuck, I hoped I did, there was eight months of travel and filming. For the first time, I caught on to the fact that I would be away, far fucking away, from Aspen. That her standing beside me wasn’t fake. That I wanted her at my side.
But this movie was epic action/adventure, not a simple TV show that was filmed on a movie set in one location. The hours were brutal, but everyone went home at the end of the day. And I went to my barely furnished real estate investment. Either way, Aspen wasn’t going to be there.
As I told the bartender what I wanted, someone called Aspen’s name. While I expected to make small talk with people I knew, I wasn’t expecting her to know anyone.
Beside me, she went still. Her fingers clenched mine and I whipped my gaze to hers. Her eyes were wide in surprise… and something else. Who’d called for her? I turned, found a man walking our way.
“Shit,” she whispered, staring at the approaching man.
I leaned down. “You okay?”
She nodded, swallowed hard. “Not really.”
Whoever the man was, she knew. And didn’t like. I’d never seen him before. Sixties, salt and pepper hair, navy suit.
“This is unexpected,” he said. His dark gaze was on Aspen.
