The bell tinkles again, and I flinch even as Leonora calls out a friendly greeting to the new customer. I shift on my feet. The more people in here, the better the chance of losing my cover.
“Mmm. Well, I’m particularly looking for Quinton Holloway. Any chance you might know where I could find him?”
“I might be able to help you with that.” A masculine voice behind me has my fingers twitching.
Why do men think they have the answer to all of life’s problems? “I don’t remember asking you. Do you always feel like you need to chime in on other people’s conversations, or is it just when women are talking?” I roll my eyes at Leonora without turning around.
Her mouth pops open and her eyes dart over my shoulder. Then a tiny smile twitches the corners of her lips up, and a prickle of unease creeps up the back of my neck.
I spin around slowly to see a tall, lanky man standing behind me. He’s maybe a little younger than me, in his early twenties, and he’s wearing faded denim, a black T-shirt with a some sort of logo on the chest, and a tan cowboy hat. Unfortunately, he’s not just any old cowboy. I did some serious research before I even landed in Canada, and I’d recognize that handsome face anywhere. Quinton Holloway, the man I’d hoped would teach me to ride. And he’s even hotter in person than he looked in the picture on the ranch website. An unwelcome pang of attraction sends a flush of warmth through me.
Unfortunately, now that I’ve mouthed off to him, I’m worried he won’t be so receptive to my request. Fuck.
But the look on his face is clear, even shadowed by the brim of his hat. He’s amused, which only irritates me further, but I’m an actress. I might not be able to salvage my career, but I can definitely salvage this situation.
I flash my brightest smile, infusing as much apology into my words as I can. “I’m so sorry. It’s just—”
“You’re used to men hitting on you in coffee shops?” he asks.
“Yes, exactly.”
“What can I help you with, Miss…?” He trails off, giving me an expectant look.
I don’t take the bait. “Let me buy you a coffee to make up for that shitty first impression. Then I’d love to chat if you have time.”
He shakes his head, running a hand through the scruff on his chin. Nerves flutter around in my stomach. “No way. I’ll buy you a coffee and we can chat. My mom would be ashamed of me if I let a lady and visitor to our town buy me a meal.”
I stick my hands in the pocket of my oversized hoodie to hide my fidgety fingers. “Don’t worry about it. I got this.”
He takes a couple of steps closer, and I shift until my ass is bumping up against the counter. “I mean it. If you want to have that conversation, let me buy your meal. We can sit down, share a drink, and have a chat. I insist.”
I hold back my sigh. I don’t like being obligated to anyone. Nine out of ten times, they’re going to hold itover your head later, at least in my experience. But I guess we’ll have to see. It’s not like I don’t have anything to offer him.
“Fine.” I move to the side so he can step up to the counter and order.
He pays with actual cash and drops some of those giant Canadian coins into the glass tip jar on the counter.
Leonora thanks him. “Why don’t you two go sit down and hash out your business. I’ll bring your food and drinks over when they’re ready.”
“Sounds good,” Quinton says, then turns to me, holding out an arm as if we’re about to walk the red carpet together.
“I’m good.” It’s not like I’m teetering on the super high heels my stylist loves to put me in. Much as I love Lin, I’m not so fond of her sadistic fashion tendencies.
I scan the restaurant, choosing a table nestled into the shadowy back corner. I’m going to have to do the big identity reveal for him, but there’s no need to expose myself any further than I have to.
Quinton trails after me, folding his tall frame into the narrow booth, then taking off his hat and settling his elbows on the table. “Not that I’m complaining about sharing a meal with a beautiful lady, but why exactly are you looking for me? Actually, where are my manners? We should introduce ourselves first, before we start doing business.” He reaches across the table holding out his hand. “I’m Quint Holloway. Pleasure to meet you.”
I guess there’s no getting away from this now. Instead of reaching for his hand I reach up toslip off the massive shades I’m wearing. It takes a beat longer than I’m used to, but I can tell the moment he recognizes me. His hazel eyes widen as he takes in my familiar face.
“You’re…”
“Aurelia Lane, yes. That’s me.”
“Oh.”
“Right. All I ask is you keep this to yourself. I’m trying to keep the lowest of profiles here.” That disappearing into the hedge meme? That’s the energy I’m channeling right now. I shift my head slightly to the left, but no one among the handful of patrons is staring, pulling out a camera, or making a beeline for our table. But I still take a few deep breaths and attempt to relax my shoulders. Because this is possibly my last chance in the industry, and if he decides to go to the press, the entire thing is shot.
He leans forward, palms pressed flat on the table. “Wait a minute. Are you in the show? The one they’re going to be filming at our place? Who else is in the cast? Caleb did not tell us there were going to be big stars at our place.”
