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“Jesus, Zane,” a guy said. “What were you doing out there?”
“Drop it,” Zane said.
“She could have drowned, dude. Not what we—”
“I said drop it.”
Sophie used her hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun and looked up. “I’m okay.” She hated the sound of their upset voices and that she’d been the cause of it.
“Sophie, I’m Danny Ellis,” the guy said. He extended his hand and helped her up. “We talked on the phone. I’m Zane’s manager. And I handle his PR.”
“Hello.” Her legs trembled, but she willed the agitation away and wiped the sand off her backside. Shewasokay.
“We could try again,” Zane said.
“No, thanks.” One humiliation a day was enough. “I’m ready to go back to the hotel. You mind heading back with me, Honor?”
“Of course not.”
“Hang on,” Danny said. “We feel bad about how this went.” He elbowed Zane. “I know I speak for Zane, too.”
“Yes. I should have stuck closer to you out there.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sophie said, starting to turn. She felt shameful enough for both of them.
“Let us make it up to you. Be Zane’s guest for the opening of the film festival tomorrow night,” Danny said.
Sophie froze. Her synapses were definitely firing now. Sizzling, even. Cells sped through her blood faster than she thought possible. Her? The sexiest surfer alive’s date? Honor gripped her arm like she felt the same way. But Sophie couldn’t.
“That’s really nice of you to ask, but I’ll be working.”
“No problem. We’ll make it a working date,” Danny said.
“She’d love to!” Honor piped in. Then she bent and whispered in Sophie’s ear, “Let him be your Mr. Right Now.”
Sophie shivered at the thought. They came from two totally different worlds. Couldn’t be more opposite. Zane wasn’t looking at her with even the tiniest bit of interest. He didn’t associate with ordinary plain Janes. He was hot and worldly and popular and she was…not.
“I don’t—” she started to say.
“We won’t take no for an answer,” Danny said.
The depths of Zane’s blue eyes were inscrutable, but Sophie didn’t want to argue. After all, she needed to stay on good terms with all the festival participants. Her reputation depended on it.
“Okay,” she relented. “It’s a date.”
Chapter Two
The Happy Harpoon buzzed with reggae music pouring out of speakers and conversations loud enough to interfere with the Rastafarian lyrics. Zane strode through the thatched-roof restaurant, waving and smiling to everyone who wanted his attention. When he reached the outdoor seating area in the sand, a young woman at the table in front of him jumped to her feet.
“Zane! Could I get an autograph?” She offered him a pen and pulled on the V-neck of her shirt until he glimpsed the edge of her bikini top. “Here, please.”
He obliged her request, probably the thousandth chest he’d signed over the last ten years.
“Thank you. I’m never going to wash it off.” She gave him an easy smile and then tucked a piece of paper into his hand before sitting back down. He didn’t have to look to know she’d given him her phone number.
He stepped through the sand and wove around tables until he found Bryce and Danny. Tiki torches lit up the dining area as the sun got comfortable on the horizon. A couple hundred feet away, high tide rolled onto shore. Zane breathed in the scent of brine and wetness and thought about asking the guys if they were up for a night dive later.
“We have a problem,” Danny said instead of hello.
