Page 73 of The Decoy

Brody’s breathing gradually levels out. The harshness in his eyes melts away, replaced by love. He lets out a long sigh, leaning his head down until his forehead rests against mine.

“I love you,” he rasps, his hands tightening over mine.

“I know you do, Vaughn. And I love you,” I murmur, leaning into his solid warmth. “Now…you have a commercial to crush. And you’re on my executive clock right now. So get your ass in gear and get to wardrobe. I’ll be right here watching.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “You could come with me.”

“Actually, I think I will. But absolutely no funny business, I have work to do. You need to get this done and back to the facility by the afternoon.”

“You didn’t mind my funny business this morning,” he says, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Okay, you have a point, but we’re working now and have a full day, so let’s go, big guy.” I pull away from him and smack him on the ass.

“Then stop flirting with me,” he teases, the confrontation still hanging between us, but I won’t let it ruin our day.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ellis

It’s been a few days since our run-in with Dylan. I stayed home yesterday and worked from my home office, but I came back into the city today to get some more work done. Usually, the silence of my office is like a sanctuary for me, but I’m so busy making sure everything is prepared for when I’m out when the baby arrives.

I’m reviewing final royalty schedules for Brody’s last campaign, my palm resting on my stomach. The baby’s been active this afternoon, shifting against my ribs in rolls that make me have to adjust my posture every few minutes.

The glass doors to my office swing open without so much as a knock.

My assistant, Sarah, doesn’t even have time to announce them. She hovers in the doorway, her hands clutching her iPad to her chest, her eyes wide. “Ellis…I didn’t have time⁠—”

“It’s fine,” I say smoothly, raising a hand to stop her panic. Just hold my calls.”

My dad strides into my office like a storm front rolling in.

At sixty-eight, my dad is still razor-sharp. He’s dressed in a charcoal Savile Row three-piece suit, his greying hair combed back, his posture rigid.

Right behind him, looking exhausted and mildly uncomfortable, is my brother Bryan.

As soon as my father reaches my desk, Bryan catches my eye over our father’s shoulder, giving me a subtle warning wince that tells me everything I need to know.

“Dad,” I say, keeping my tone measured as I lean back in my chair. “I didn’t have a meeting with you on my calendar today. To what do I owe the surprise visit?”

“Don’t play games with me, Ellis,” he barks. He doesn’t sit down. He stands right in front of my desk, leaning his hands on the polished wood, looming over me. “I just spent thirty minutes talking to the director from the latest commercial shoot.”

My jaw tightens, and a sharp flare of frustration ignites in my chest.

“Did you?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. “And why, exactly, are you making calls to my set director?”

“Because when an altercation occurs on a production stage involving my daughter, her boyfriend, and her ex-boyfriend, I expect to be informed before it hits the tabloids!” He smacks the desk. “I was told threats were made between these two men, and a near physical encounter over you.”

I let out a breath, tapping my nails against the desk. I’ve spent the last few days ensuring everyone there that day has signed fresh NDAs, believing we had the situation handled with discretion. To hear someone violated that agreement makes my blood boil.

“It was a personal issue, Dad,” I say, my voice cold. “It was handled quickly and as quietly as possible. No press was present, and to my knowledge, no footage was captured, and the rest of the shoot ran smoothly. If you had questions, you should have come to me first. That was my business to deal with.”

“Your business?” he scoffs, straightening to his full height, his eyebrows pulling together. “My daughter, who is very pregnant with my grandchild, has an almost physical altercation on a set, and you expect me to sit back and let you handle it on your own?”

“He didn’t touch her, Dad,” Bryan interjects, stepping up beside him, trying to defuse the situation. “I checked the security logs myself before we came barging into Ellis’s office. Brody handled it. She was fine.”

My dad points at Bryan, flashing a warning glare. “I’ll deal with you later. I suspect you knew the truth all along.

“I have to say, I was a bit curious as to why your ex and your boyfriend would be on set together in the first place, with you coordinating production schedules, so I asked what you could possibly be talking about,” his voice dropping. “And what he told me was beyond surprising, Ellis.”