The group erupts in laughter, though the reality is I’ve spent the last two months numbing my existence at the bottom of bottles and meaningless hookups. My fingers drum against the Olympic rings I have tattooed on my upper thigh.
It’s enough to satisfy her curiosity, and she makes a move to reclaim her spot on my lap. I stand in one fluid motion, my six-foot-two frame towering over her.
I need to get away from the television.
“Jerry,” I call out to my bartender, “can you be a good man and turn that off? And while you’re at it, crank up the music.”
The music shifts to Euro house. The kind of sound that drowns out thought and makes you forget that anything exists. The kind that makes you forget you’re watching your team compete without you.
Perfect.
“Why don’t we take this out onto the deck?” I wrap my ring-embellished fingers around my drink and gently place my free hand on the small of the woman’s back.
The sun seeps into my bones as I adjust my sunglasses. My bare chest glistens with a sheen of sunscreen.
“Dante, my love!” Amara Bellamy’s melodic voice floats across the deck like expensive perfume. She’s sprawled on a chaise, her skin glowing in the sunlight. At her side, Mei Wei andTiago Fernandez are soaking up the sun. The three of them are part of my entourage from Princeton, all kids from families like mine—too much money in their hands and a ravenous taste for fun.
“Mari!” I call out her pet name, gliding over to her.
“You simply must dish about your upcoming adventure,” Amara purrs.
“Wouldn’t want to spoil the mystique.”
“Oh, please,” Amara laughs. She’s one of Hollywood’s most acclaimed directors, with two Oscar wins this year for her latest groundbreaking, character-driven film. “I’m on my self-imposed exile from the machine, pursuing my artistic awakening or whatever. The least you can do is keep me entertained with gossip while I’m pretending to enjoy my hiatus.”
“My agent pulled me intoRobyn Hood. They needed someone who actually knows their way around a sword, both as a consultant and for the role of the sheriff.” I lean back. Todd used his connections, and he helped me land a job that finally puts my Princeton theater degree to use. “A corrupt lawman with a penchant for swordplay? It’s practically typecasting. Besides, it’ll keep me sharp for my triumphant return to the piste.” Before anyone can dwell on that last part, I add smoothly, “And naturally, you’ll all have prime seats at the July premiere.”
The Manhattan in my hand can’t quite mask the bitter truth—I’m filling time. A year of suspension stretches before me like an endless void.
But Dante Hastings doesn’t wallow.
He reinvents.
Princeton’s theater scene taught me that spectacle masks pain beautifully. Hollywood will adore me—I’m their catnip.
A Hastings pulled away from sport for a big-screen debut.
“Is it true that you’ll be on set with Reese Sinclair?”
“Jennifer Lawrence was their first choice, but she’s off doing some pretentious Nolan thing.” I wave my hand dismissively. “Sinclair’s the consolation prize.”
“She’s absolutely divine!” Mei gushes. “We were at Wilhelmina’s charity thing last month—a dreadfully boring affair—but Reese was just delightful. A true darling.”
“Are you planning to turn America’s good girl bad?” Susan Martin from theStone Timesinterjects, her martini untouched beside her notebook.
The reporter’s here because I want her to be—better to feed the press stories about my indulgent escapades than let them focus on the reality of my grim situation.This way, I control the narrative.
“Hardly.” I brush her off. “Reese Sinclair is not my type of woman—far too sugarcoated for my liking.” Sure, as a teenager, I had a poster of her taped up on my bedroom wall, but who didn’t at that age? Nowadays, I prefer a taste of someone more sour and full-bodied. “Besides, remember, I’m a changed man this year.” I raise my glass in mock solemnity. “I have to be good.”
“But, Dante!” One of the models Tiago invited last night frowns.
What the press doesn’t know can’t hurt me.
I lean over to her. “What happens behind cabin doors, though?”
“No one needs to know.” She giggles, and I grin, letting the façade of innocence settle in place.
“Find it hard to believe Reese is slumming it in a Langford action film.” Susan taps her pen against her notebook. “It’s so pedestrian.”
