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The phone dropped onto the floor after the call disconnected and he didn’t retrieve it.
“Curtis is going to be pissed. So much for the perfect PR moment.” He snorted and dropped his head back. “Maybe I should fake strep throat or something.”
“Orrr,” Hannah said. “You could go with a friend.”
“Are you volunteering?” he asked with a scowl.
She scoffed. “Gross. No, I mean, go with a friend. Like Max or Leslie or Sabine or someone.” She shifted her eyes away and Dave knew that if he were a different person, he’d pick up on whatever she was trying to hide. Or imply? Or hint at.
But as it stood, he couldn’t read her mind and it frustrated him.
“Just say what you’re not saying,” he grumbled. “I can’t decipher code.”
Hannah’s cool blue eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and she pursed her lips. “Ask Sabine to go with you. You guys seem to get along and you know she won’t be overwhelmed by a bunch of celebrities. You might have a good time.”
Huh.
Thatwasa good idea.
“You think she’ll go for it?” he asked, a memory tickling in the back of his mind of her saying that she’d choose an award show with him over going to Portugal.
But people said shit all the time.
“What song are you doing?” Hannah asked.
“Uh, they’re honoring The Supremes so they asked me to do a cover of ‘You Can’t Hurry Love.”
“You’re not doing one of your own? That last album was a banger. They didn’t want you to do one of those?”
Dave made a noise in his throat. “I’m still doing itmyway. The only thing the same is the chorus. The arrangement is all new and I wrote new verses.”
Hannah made a face and pressed her lips together.
“Did you already record it?” Johnny asked, casting a side-eye to Hannah.
“Yeah. They had to approve it ahead of time. I flew out to L.A. and did it in an afternoon.”
Johnny ran his tongue over his teeth and faced the sound board.
“What?” Dave asked.
“Nothing.” Hannah rubbed her palms on her thighs. “Just business stuff. You should ask Sabine. I think you’ll have a good time.”
She made it sound so simple.Just ask Sabine.
Of course, they’d have a good time. They always had a great time when they were together. That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that it might look like it was more than just two people hanging out.
And he’d been lectured by his manager, his publicist, and even Quinn Sullivan that anyone he dated would have to be vetted thoroughly beforehand.
And that was a commitment he couldn’t make.
Not for himself and definitely not for anyone else.
But he and Sabine had a nice friendship. Maybe if he was clear this was a friend thing it would be okay.
She hadn’t implied she was interested in anything more and neither had he—he’d been very careful.
