Page 160 of Knot Their Starlet

“Okay, then I don’t need to do the actual filming. I just want—” she lets out a soft sound of frustration. “As much as it pains me to admit, this is a really cool project and you seem to really know your shit. I want to be a part of it in any way I can. You owe it to me after trying to blackmail me last night.”

I shove my hands into my pockets. My gaze darts towards the hallway, wary of one of the guys coming down and getting the wrong idea.

I’m not the one doing the cornering this time around, I swear.

Yeah, I don’t think that’d go down very well.

“So, you’re blackmailing me with the fact that I tried to blackmail you?”

“I mean, it worked with you, right? You’ve gotten way more than just the interview you wanted,” she pushes.

She has a point.

I can hear John laughing already. He’d lose his shit if I told him I’m being blackmailed into including someone on a project this big. He knows I historically don’t work well with others on my team. Too many cooks in the kitchen doesn’t fit well with my style of work.

“Fine,” I sigh. “We’ll start with you being the creative consultant or something.”

“I want to edit, too.”

I force myself to take a deep breath.

“We’ll see about that. I... Don’t share that with anyone on the projects I work on.”

“I’ll win you over,” she says, flashing me a toothy grin. “Okay, got what I needed, thanks.”

I blink after her, my feet rooted to the floor beneath me even after she disappears back down the hall.

She was right. She is different from how I thought she was.

I hate being wrong.

But even more than that, I hate the flare of curiosity I can’t shake. Who is the real Andromeda Sterling?

CHAPTER 33

Andi

The longer we’re in the sprinter van headed towards Beck’s hometown, the more Eli’s muscles tense up.

It’s hard to ignore, with him seated in front of me. He’s so big that I can still see his shoulders peeking up from the back of the seat.

I have a sneaking suspicion it has to do with his less-than-ideal childhood. If I’d made it away from my mom and all her bullshit, I wouldn’t be eager to head back either.

“Hey Everett?” I ask, scooting across the empty seat beside me.

Everett’s ankle is resting on his opposite knee, serving as a table for his laptop. It looks small compared to the size of his hands. He glances up, adjusting the glasses he’s wearing.

Damn, those glasses look good on him.

“Do you need glasses all the time?”

“I’m farsighted, so only when I’m working with things up close,” he says, his lips quirking as he tilts his head.

“Old man,” I say, between a fake cough, unable to resist the temptation to tease him.

He rolls his eyes.

“I’ve been farsighted since I was your age. Do you have an actual question, or is the brattiness a sign of restlessness?”