Shane slides out of the booth. “She can take my seat. I need to go talk to someone.”
Jace smiles at me. “Are you hungry? There’s a buffet. Let’s grab you a bite first.” He takes my hand and escorts me across the room. All the while, he’s greeting other bands and industry people. He’s so charming. I marvel at how easily this comes to Jace.
He hands me a plate when we get to a giant table of food, and I grab a slice of gooey lasagna, salad, and an iced tea.
“Are you sure you don’t want more?” He motions to another table that has breads and cookies and finger foods.
“This is enough. I’ll fall into a food coma if I eat too much, and then who will record tonight?”
He winks. “You’re awesome.”
Why does he have to be so sweet?
He’s just wearing jeans and a dark t-shirt, but the way the fabric stretches across his muscular chest and arms should be criminal.
As we make our way back to our table, I tug on his hand, and he turns to me. “Listen, about last night. I’m sorry I overreacted.”
Those sea-glass-green eyes study mine. “We’re good. Layla is happy and that’s the only thing that matters.”
Right. The baby. The reason I have this job. “Great.”
He glances away as he pats Layla on the back. “There’s something I should tell you.”
I knew it. He’s firing me. He’s going to drop me off at Greyhound tomorrow, and I’ll have to take a twenty-hour bus back to Texas. “What’s up?”
Jace rubs the back of his neck as he lowers his voice. “Frank said the label doesn’t want me to advertise I’m married. I told him I won’t act single or do anything obnoxious while you and I are together. But I wanted you to know.”
That’s just it. We’re not really together.
A giant knot forms in my throat, and I struggle to swallow. “Whatever you need.”
He tugs out a chain around his neck where his wedding band dangles. “Hope you don’t mind, but I took this off.”
I stare at my favorite prop. “Right.” Our rings. I tug mine off and shove it on my other hand.
His eyes soften as he studies mine. What does he see on my face? Embarrassment? Fear? Hives?
After a long minute, he threads our fingers together. “I’m just gonna tell everyone you’re my girlfriend. That way no one tries to set me up and groupies don’t get any ideas. Is that okay?”
I’m too busy managing whatever’s happening between my ribs to process those words, but I nod. “Sure.”
He gives me that crooked grin, tugs me closer, and kisses me. “For good measure.”
When we separate, I notice several suits staring at us, and I wonder if this is a good idea.
I’m still replaying this conversation when we get back to our booth. Jace stands back and holds his hand out. “Go ahead.” That will put me next to Marlowe. I turn to him and whisper, “Are you sure?”
“This way I can get out a little easier if Layla needs to be changed.”
Is he saying that so he doesn’t have to sit next to his ex? I wouldn’t want to sit next to mine either. I smile, this one feeling genuine. “Good thinking.” With my plate full of pasta, I maneuver past him to get into the booth. Just as Marlowe climbs out, bumping into me.
And that plate of cheesy lasagna?
It hits my chest and slides down my body, hitting the floor with a splat.
24
JACE
