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“Don’t make me sound like a sodden wanker!” Rhys scowled.
Dani frowned. “Jay said you didn’t come to her premiere because you wanted to take things slow.”
“That was a month ago. Now he’s bingeing that drama she’s on.” Mary turned to Rhys. “Since when are you interested in fashion?”
“It’s a great show. In the cutthroat world of fashion, it takes determination, cunning, and just a little bit of luck to rise to the top!”
Everyone glanced around at one another for a second.
“Isn’t that the tagline of the show?” Mary whispered.
“Aren’t you seeing each other in two weeks?” Dani asked, her lips twitching.
Rhys sighed and shoveled a hand through his blond hair. “We both had to cancel. The uni has scheduled a weekend retreat for senior lecturers and professors to answer questions about the change in personnel and on dealing with the press—”
“Sorry, mate,” Jameson said.
“—and her new movie is doing so well, they’re adding more promotional appearances to her schedule. It seems inconceivable that in this modern age, two people who want to see each other can’t.But the timing hasn’t worked out. She started shooting the new season of her show in July and now I’m preparing for the semester.”
“Do you think it’s a sign from the universe?” Oliver asked.
“Ollie!” Mary hit his arm.
“What? I’m just asking. I mean, should relationships be that hard?”
“Sometimes I ask myself that very question. Like now,” Mary muttered. She tapped Dani on the knee. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“Da Real’s annual Pajama Jammie Jam. What’s it like?”
Dani cackled. “You know about that?”
Ollie raised his hand. “I don’t.”
“It’s an over-the-top party thrown by this rapper, Da Real. He does it every summer at his house in Beverly Hills. You have to wear pajamas to get in, but not the comfy kind. Women show up in Louboutins and La Perla. Dudes’ll be blinged out while wearing Versace boxer briefs. And the Veuve Clicquot and tequila be flowing. Think Diddy’s White Party but sexier and more exclusive.”
Jameson’s mind conjured up an image of Dani in four-inch stiletto heels and barely there lingerie. He’d need to plan their own private version of this party; he didn’t intend to share that vision with anyone else.
“That sounds like my kind of party,” Rhys said. “How do I get an invitation?”
Dani winced. “Youdon’t.”
Mary laughed. “I have a friend who worked for Stella McCartney and she got to go a few years ago. She said the guest list was iconic: athletes, musicians, actors, models—”
“It can get crazy, but it’s a lot of fun.”
“Why did you decide not to go this year?”
The smile slowly dissipated from Dani’s face. “This year?”
“It was a few weeks ago. And I didn’t see anything on your IG.”
Dani blinked rapidly several times and turned her head away from Mary, dipping her chin to her chest. It looked as if she’d recalled something disturbing.
Jameson broke the awkward silence. “I was visiting her during that time, and I don’t think us attending a pajama jam is the best way to keep a low profile.”
“I hate to break it to you, mate,” Oliver said, “but you don’t seem like the Pajama Jammie Jam type.”
