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“Woah, what just happened?”
“Marcus Rothman called. He wants to direct.”
“Marcus Rothman, as in, the man who said you weren’t built for action movies?”
“One and the same.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I’ll say, hell yes, but I want him to sweat it out for a bit first.”
“Seems fair considering what he said about you.”
Noah leaned in and kissed me with a grin. “That’s what I said, but Mike thinks it’s a gamble.”
“If he couldn’t wait twenty-four hours to contact you about the job, he wants it, right?” I asked, unsure if I was reading the situation correctly. “I mean, these things are normally drawn out. Tit for tat, back and forth, negotiations out the ass?”
“How is it you get that and you’re not in the industry, but my fucking agent, who has been here twice as long as I have, doesn’t?”
“I understand both sides. Mike’s looking at dollar signs while you’re thinking primarily about the art of it. Rothman alone will put asses in seats, and you alone bring in your faithful fans and admirers, but together you will be unbeatable. From a business standpoint, Mike isn’t wrong about the possibilities of this being career-defining, but this isn’t just a business. Rothman could have limited your career with that statement.”
“No one would have touched me for an action role.”
“So, you’re telling him that you’ve noted that.”
“He’ll take the lumps, and the whole thing will pass over,” Noah said, folding himself around me. “See, I knew I was smart to keep you around. You think logistically and look at all the angles.”
“Ah, a fresh collegiate mind.”
Noah chuckled again and pulled us both down flat against the cushions below us, cuddling in. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of his heart pounding against my ear as I finally drifted back to sleep, not missing the whispered I love you from the man holding me before I fell away completely.
ChapterSix
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Iwoke up after noon alone in Noah’s bed, the sun high over Los Angeles and mingling with the haze. The house was quiet, which could only mean I was alone. I took it all in with a happy stretch, my bones popping as I arched my back like a cat.
No matter how many times I told Kenzie that I couldn’t understand her lifestyle, days like this, I totally could. The sun, the city, the house, and the oversized tub calling my name, were all small pieces of a puzzle that were beginning to appeal to me.
I took a long hot bath and watched the day roll by from the wall to floor window in the bathroom that angled over the city with no view from the neighbors. It was the first thing I’d checked when I’d been in here for the first time. Noah had laughed at me when I’d asked if there were blinds. He wasn’t shy when it came to his body, so it had taken me a while to confidently walk through here naked without the worry of being seen.
I was about to get out when I heard the door open downstairs. I decided to stay in the water until Noah found me. I figured it would be a nice little prize at the end of his search. Only, it took me ten minutes to realize it wasn’t Noah.
The house was still too quiet. He hadn’t called out to me once, and there was no sound to indicate anyone was here. Everybody on Noah’s team knew I was in the house. His housekeeper and I were on conversational terms, so she always called out to let me know she’d arrived. Plus, she only came on Mondays and Thursdays, so who the hell was in the house with me?
I wasn’t stupid enough to call out a greeting, but I couldn’t stay in the water either, so I pulled myself out of the bubbles and wrapped a towel around my body as I crept through the bathroom and bedroom to where I could peer out of the door and look over the gangway to the living room and dining room below.
I couldn’t see anything suspicious. Everything looked like we’d left it last night. Takeout boxes, blankets, and pillows spread over the floor, beer bottles and my wine glass on the table. Nothing seemed out of place, but those familiar fingers of fear climbed up my spine anyway. I just couldn’t understand why.
“No, it ain’t here,” a voice said from the office directly below me, the voice muffled like the door was closed. The stranger had a lilt of an accent, a hint of cadence to his tone that made him sound exotic. “Shit, I don’t know, man. I ain’t no fucking mind reader.”
Staying hidden, I heard the door whisper open, and the sound of footsteps on marble grew louder as he made his way from the office into the living room. My heart was pounding so statically in my chest, I wondered how the hell he couldn’t hear it. When he came into view, my anxiety ratcheted up to the redline. He was tall, wiry, but with musculature pressing against his plain white T-shirt, and he had the gorgeous russet skin of a Latino. His eyes were as dark as his hair, and his square jaw was rigid with tension. He had tattoos on every available inch of skin, including his neck and the edges of his face. The man looked menacing and dangerous. I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop the gasp of shock from falling from my lips.
“Naw, man, Shark said it was in his office.”
There was a pause as the guy walked to the accordion doors and stared out at the city. He had more tattoos on the back of his neck, one of which looked like a gun barrel.
“It ain’t in there.” Pause. “His house.” Pause. He raised his other hand to rub his hair in frustration, and his T-shirt rose to reveal a holster at the back of his jeans with a gun loaded in it. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
