It wasn’t happening again. Not if she could help it.
“You go on without me,” she told Alex, keeping her face placid. “My head is hurting a bit, and this area of the room is quieter.”
Probably. She had no idea, but it sounded plausible.
His brows slammed together, and he gently brushed his fingertips over her temple. “Wren—”
She edged away. “Go ahead. I could use some alone time for my headache.”
Poor Alex. He wasn’t happy about leaving her. But he didn’t want to disrupt a wedding by arguing in front of the bride, so he was stuck. Outmaneuvered, for once.
“Take some medicine.” He allowed himself to be guided across the room, but he was still staring at her over his shoulder. “I’ll be back to check on you, Lauren.”
She imagined he would.
Dinner arrived, and she quietly observed everyone in that old, familiar way as she ate. From a neutral distance. No longer part of the proceedings.
Once Alex had settled across the room, a few whispers from nearby tables reached her ears.I don’t understand how they’re connectedandno way they’re actually datingandwhat do you think happened to her face?
When she was alone with Alex, she fit. They fit together. But his world wasn’t hers, and that obvious disconnection—in looks, in wealth, in personality—was always going to draw attention and elicit commentary. As a lifetime of experience had taught her, such commentary would often prove unflattering. And that—
That was going to cause problems for Alex.Shewas going to cause problems for Alex.
Maybe not tonight, given his distraction, but soon. Often. Inevitably.
“Excuse me.” A blond man with slicked-back hair bent low to speak to her, his voice quiet enough not to carry. “Lauren Clegg, correct?”
“Yes.” Folding her napkin neatly, she laid it next to her plate. “How may I help you?”
He offered his hand, and she shook it. “Nice to meet you, Lauren. I’m Zach Derning, Alex’s agent. I was hoping we could talk somewhere privately for a few minutes.”
What on earth could he possibly need to say to her that would require privacy?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“You work for Alex,” she said. “I’m happy to speak with you, but not without him present.”
“I’m concerned about him. I thought you’d want to know why.” Zach tilted his head toward his client’s table. “It’s a matter of some urgency, and I don’t think he’ll share the problem with you until it’s too late.”
Alex’s abstraction. The tension he’d carried in his creased brow all afternoon. His uncharacteristic secrecy.
Given Zach’s appearance at her table, the situation might either involve her or require her assistance. And maybe she should go get Alex before speaking with his agent, but she didn’t want to interrupt the wedding party’s dinner, and it couldn’t hurt to simply listen. Then she’d report back to Alex later, in their hotel room.
There. Decision made.
With a nod toward her oblivious tablemates, she gathered her purse and followed Zach through the ballroom’s side exit, down a long hallway, and toward an elegant seating area in the hotel lobby, positioned discreetly behind some flourishing plants.
Once they were seated, Zach didn’t waste any time.
“Overnight, Alex received an offer from StreamUs for a travel reality show. Good money. No restrictions on what he can say or where he goes.” His blue eyes pinned her in place. “Did he tell you?”
She shook her head, caught between exultation—because holy crap, that job offer sounded custom-made for Alex—and confusion.
Why was Zach telling her this? And why hadn’t Alex?
Zach leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “They want him to have a companion. A cohost. Someone to bounce off of and banter with.”
She closed her eyes for a moment.
