Page 26 of One Weekend in Los Angeles

Her confused expression had me explaining. “You’ve inspired me to write a song about you.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s the burden and the joy of being around a songwriter.” Putting the pad down, I planted another kiss on her. “Hopefully you’ll take it as the compliment it’s meant to be.”

“Only if I get to hear it someday.”

“Deal. Although I have to preface the promise by saying only a fraction of the songs I write get cut on an album.” Not everything was a hit song ready for radio.

She shrugged. “Might be more special if I’m the only person to ever hear it.”

So many people out there in the world would have the opposite view, but not Andrea. She truly was special. “Come on, my brave, sexy girl, I want to introduce you to my steam shower and all of the delicious things I have planned for you in it.”

Chapter Fifteen

ANDREA

It turned out that the prospect of wearing my revenge dress and showing up at the City of Angels wrap party with my head high and Deacon on my arm came with a big side of nausea. Rationally, I could admire the sexy black dress Portia had fitted to me like a glove this evening and my hair left long down my back with chunky, soft curls. I could praise myself for drawing the perfect Taylor Swift cat eyes with my black eyeliner.

But emotionally, I was a big ball of anxiety. My overriding thought as we arrived at the private club the studio had obtained for the party was that I didn’t want to be here, period. Given the glorious way I’d started the day, both in Deacon’s bed and his shower, I had to assume it would end with things moving downhill in a horrific manner.

I swallowed hard as I took Deacon’s offered hand and stepped out of the back seat of the black SUV.

He looked incredibly handsome in black slacks and a dark sapphire button-up shirt. He kept the large lapels open enough to show part of his chest tattoo as well as an intricate silver chain. I’d never known a man who could pull off wearing jewelry—but rock-star chic presented sexy and edgy on Deacon.

He pulled me in close, inhaling at my ear, and whispered, “You are beautiful, Andrea. And your ex will taste regret over losing you the moment you walk in. Meanwhile, I’ll be the proudest guy in the room, knowing you’ve done me the honor of bringing me as your date.”

My smile was genuine. He’d certainly managed to dust off my self-confidence during the last twenty-four hours. Having him as a lover had been an incredible way to shed my insecurities, but more important was the way he made me feel like we were a team going into the party tonight, that he had my back.

What was crazy was I couldn’t ever remember having felt that way with my ex. It had been the “Jeff show” for so long, with me cheering him on in the background, that I’d forgotten what it was like to be with someone who allowed me into the light too.

“Thank you. I went into this weekend thinking this fake dating thing might be crazy, but I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“That makes two of us.” He bent down to press his lips to mine in a soft kiss, but it turned deeper in a hurry. When he pulled away, his intense gaze making me aware I wasn’t the only one affected. The shouts of our names pulled us from our trance.

Right. Showtime. The paparazzi went nuts with us showing up together and kissing in public. Yet, I had no regrets. Why should I mind publicizing my affection and attraction since it was the most authentic part of this weekend?

He took my hand firmly in his and led me to where security was holding open the front door.

Once inside, one of the show runners walked up with her headset on and a big smile. “I’m so happy you both are here. Wow, you look amazing, Andrea, and well, Deacon, I’m such a big fan. My name is Lexi.”

Deacon flashed what I’d call his stage smile and extended his hand. “Lovely to meet you, Lexi.”

Lexi seemed like she wanted to never let go. I knew the feeling.

She finally released his hand and glanced over her shoulder, sighing. “Uh, Jeff and Paula are already here.”

After Jeff’s text message last night telling me he wanted to talk when he got to the house and several subsequent calls and irate voicemails about Deacon being at our house, I had no desire to be in the same room with him. I don’t know where he got off being angry with me, but I refused to let anyone treat me that way, let alone someone who’d once professed to love me to his dying day.

Fixing a smile, I shrugged. “Thanks, Lexi. We knew he would be.”

“Have you decided if you’ll do your interview?” She appeared hopeful that I’d spill my guts in a one-on-one tonight. Anything for ratings.

“I haven’t decided, but I doubt it’ll happen during the party.” Emotions were running high enough, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to open up to the public about my marriage and everything that had gone wrong. Not that I owed any loyalty to Jeff, but it was awfully personal information to share.

My answer clearly disappointed her. “Okay, have a good time, okay?”

“Thanks.”