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“What?” Blake asked, taken off guard. “That’s fast, Meagan.” The idea of leaving without the opportunity to talk to Darla was really not a good one. “Surely, the studio can wait until later tomorrow.”
Meagan shook her head. “Darla is here to stay no matter what. She’s contracted. But if we can’t work this out with you, Blake, I have to find a new host. I need to know where we are headed. If you manage to nail down a contract, and Darla and her agent agree to everything as well, then Darla and I will fly back to New York to meet with everyone involved right after the next audition. We’ll shoot promos and ad campaigns then.”
A knock sounded on the door and Jimmy rushed inside, not waiting on an answer. “We need you and Darla back on set. And Blake, your agent called. You need to leave for the airport about fifteen minutes ago. I have a car waiting.”
Damn it, Blake cursed silently.
“We’re coming,” Meagan called to Jimmy, then lowered her voice. “I’m thrilled about this. The possibilities the two of you represent for this season are endless.”
Jimmy shouted again and Meagan nodded to Darla. “We better go.” She started walking, and Darla cast Blake one long, meaningful look before she fell into step behind Meagan. She was creating reasons to make him the enemy. Blake stared after her, fighting the urge to grab her and pull her aside. Better yet, to grab her and kiss her, and remind her of what they’d shared. But then, like in the airplane, he held back. He was going to have to leave and wait to talk to Darla when he landed. That is, if she would take his calls.
* * *
DARLA FINALLY ENTERED her hotel room at eleven o’clock that evening after a very emotional day. She locked the door behind her and then froze instantly as her nostrils flared with a familiar scent. Blake’s scent. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to thank housekeeping for apparently not doing their job, or complain to management, considering the vivid images the smell provoked—delicious, naughty, wonderful images of her and Blake together. Images that were more proof of how conflicted she was over the man. It made her feel like she’d been naive, like he was using her. And yet, another image of the two of them against the wall, his hands on her breasts, his body pressed to hers, had her shoving away from the door and shaking her head. She was so very conflicted. Darla tossed her purse on the bed and dropped like a rock beside it onto her back, her legs dangling off the mattress. She had to be up early in the morning to fly to New Mexico with Meagan for the next round of auditions. They were going to talk more about the show then as well, and about Blake, although there wasn’t much left to discuss at this point. Darla had spent a few short minutes on the phone with her agent, who had made it clear that not only did her contract allow for everything proposed, he had no idea why she wouldn’t want to do it in the first place. This was exposure, money, all the perks. Her producer had been thrilled, as well. High ratings meant job stability for everyone involved in her daytime show. Neither her agent nor her producer seemed concerned about the things that concerned her, like the possibility that a short-term gain could lead to a crashing and burning. Everyone was so focused on the ratings now, now, now, that they weren’t seeing the future. And money. It was always about money. It had never been that to her, but maybe that was wrong. Money allowed her to care for people she loved. To snub her nose at it would be crazy.
“The future, your future, could be Stepping Up,” she said to the empty room.
One door closes and another opens, her father’s voice in her head added. The man had too many sayings and made too much sense. She wanted to call him, to tell him what she was feeling, to ask his advice. He’d make her feel better, but at what price? This time, it was her place to make him feel better. It was her role to make sure he knew everything was going to be okay.
Darla realized her phone was vibrating, still on silent from when she’d been filming. Shoot. It was probably her parents. She had to shake off her mood and be cheerful. She was going to have to resist the urge to do what she always did, and tell them everything.
Darla grabbed her purse and dug out her phone only to see a text come through. It’s Blake was all the message read.
Darla stared at the text, waiting for him to say something more, but he didn’t. She told herself not to respond, but the truth was, she was going to see him and see him plenty. Hiding from him wasn’t an answer. Running from him wouldn’t get her far. No. Blake was in her life to stay. Proof yet again that she was not only lousy at choosing her dates, she was lousy at choosing one-night stands.
