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“My autobiography.” Dylan snorted. “Apparently, washed-up alcoholic actors are still in demand when it comes to telling the sordid tale of their life. My agent lined this up since I haven’t had a TV or movie offer in over two years, but I have to work with a ghostwriter.”
A familiar cologne wafted over me, and all my senses went on high alert. The source of the enticing scent placed two glasses of sparkling water and the bottle on the table in between the loungers. I murmured my thanks but refused to look at Andrew, turning my attention to my friend instead.See, I can do this.
“Well, that should work in your favor. A ghostwriter will help to structure the content and make sure the story flows properly.”
Andrew stepped away, and my body finally relaxed into the cushion.
Dylan swung his legs over the side of the lounger to face me and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, ’cause all those benders in dirty motels with other addicts makes for nice bedtime reading.”
Dylan’s sarcastic comment underlined the unvarnished truth. “Are you sure that writing this book is the right option for you? You’ve been sober for two years, and visiting those dark places, even if by memory, might not be the best thing for your health and well-being.”
Dylan clasped his large hands together so tightly his knuckles whitened. “I need to do this, Ro,” he murmured quietly. “My finances are in bad shape. I haven’t worked in over two years, and with alimony payments, I don’t have a choice. They paid me a sizable advance, and I start working with the ghostwriter in a few months.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your finances? Let me help.”
Dylan held up his hand. “Stop right there. That ain’t happening. I made my mess, and I’m figuring a way out.”
“But…”
“Ro, I’m fine. I talked to my therapist and my sponsor, and I’m going ahead with the book. Maybe once my truth is out there, the press will get bored of chasing me and I’ll feel better.”
Or worse, I thought worriedly, but I kept my mouth shut. I knew my friend all too well, and Dylan’s stubborn edge meant he wouldn’t budge on this no matter what I said. Sure enough, Dylan stretched back out on the lounger, grabbed his hat, and placed it over his face. Discussion closed.
I reluctantly turned back to the other guests and noticed that Owen was still standing near the railing pointing at something on the horizon and once again talking to Andrew, who was listening intently. I stifled the urge to interrupt them, selfishly wanting Andrew’s attention for myself.Listen to yourself, you fool!
Owen reached up and ran a hand over Andrew’s shoulder. What the fuck? Before I knew it, I’d leapt up out of the lounger. Andrew deftly moved away from Owen’s touch. I had a mind to push Owen overboard, but unfortunately there were far too many witnesses.
“Owen,” I murmured as I drew closer. “Enjoying the view up here?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” Owen replied as he glanced over at Andrew, who was picking up empty glasses and heading back down the stairs. I took a deep, calming breath and wondered if it would be terribly bad manners to punch Owen in front of my other guests. Most assuredly.
“My staff are off-limits.” My blunt words loudly mocked my own bourgeoning desire. Outside of that, I wanted to make it crystal clear that while I needed to close the deal for Owen’s properties, I wasn’t prepared to sacrifice my employee for it.
“There’s no harm in looking. Or talking.”
“Yes, but touching is not allowed. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Can’t blame a man for trying.” Owen shrugged, and the sun glared off his bald head. “Are you ready to talk business? That is the primary reason why I’m here this weekend.”
“Let’s have that discussion in my office. My regular assistant won’t be joining me, so Andrew has kindly stepped in. I trust you will behave accordingly.”
“Of course.” Owen smirked, and the expression made my discomfort ratchet up a few notches. I didn’t have to like Owen to do business with him, but something about the man’s attitude chafed.
“Feel free to head to my office on the main level in a half hour. I’ll have one of the stewards show you the way.”
“Perfect. Let’s see what you have to offer.” He gave me a long once-over before turning and walking to a nearby lounger, stretching out to face the sun.Arrogant prick.I headed down the stairs and entered the interior lounge to search out Andrew, but he wasn’t at the bar or in the kitchen.
Instead, I pressed the intercom buzzer. “Andrew, could you please meet me in the lounge?”
“On my way.”
My mobile buzzed, and I sat on one of the large sofas, reading my messages. Work notifications were piling up, and my blood pressure increase in tandem.
“How can I help you?” Andrew asked as he wandered into the room and stood in front of me.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Andrew replied calmly.
