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“Fine.” I pout. “How about I have terrible taste in men. I don’t trust myself to pick a good guy.”
“Why would you want a good guy? You don’t want to settle down. Get yourself some dick, girl.” Pax rolls his eyes like it’s the easiest thing in the world. It probably is for a guy with his confidence.
“The thought of getting involved with another controlling, manipulative man like Harrison makes me sick to my stomach. At the same time, I don’t want to be alone forever. I want to find someone who respects me and treats me as an equal.” I sip my drink and look to him for, I don’t know—approval?
Pax considers me for a second. Looks me up and down. “So, you’re looking for another husband.”
“No!” I recoil.
He raises an eyebrow. “Sure sounds like it.”
I grab my phone and scroll through one of the dating apps I signed up for a couple days ago. I’ve never used them, but I’m willing to give it a try. “I’m going to sign up for an app. What do you think? Plenty of Fish? Tinder? Bumble? eHarmony?”
“No. No. No. No.“ He takes my phone and places it face down on the counter. “You’re starring in a new series. You can’t do that anymore.”
Shit. He’s got a point. I nod in understanding. “Raya? Ugh. I don’t think the celebrity dating app thing is for me. I just want a regular guy.”
He buries his head in his hands and mumbles, “Clover, what am I going to do with you?”
“What?“ I scrunch my nose. “How am I going to meet anyone? I’m on set all day…”
I’m cut short when Pax presses his palm to my mouth. “Shush. We need to work on your game. Do you see the way dudes look at you? Every day, wherever you go, men practically worship the ground you walk on. Tell me you know this.” He removes his hand. Holds my gaze until I break eye contact from the intensity of it all.
“Stop. I know you’re just trying to help me, but don’t lie. No one looks at me that way. Especially now that I’m pushing forty.” I take a deep pull of my peachy slush.
Pax spins my stool to face him. “You’re thirty-two years old. You’re hot and you’re going to be even hotter when this show comes out. Grow some self-esteem, woman.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Look. Ronni gave me this role, and I’m grateful. She told me her vision: I’m the girl next door. The chick who every woman relates to yet is destined for the most epic romance. It’s what the show’s about.”
“Do you hear yourself?” His brow furrows. “This show is your life. You’ve joked about it to the entire crew. What did you say your foolproof plan is?”
“First on the list is to revive my career. Hopefully this show will do it for me. Second, I’m embracing every day to the fullest. If I want to make out with someone, I’m going to do it. For the first time in my life, I’m going to learn what makes me happy. Finally, I’m never dating another guy who wears a suit.” I emphasize each item on the list by holding up a finger.
He sucks in his lips, pondering. “As far as the second and third items on the list, my recommendation is you try some guys on for size, if you know what I mean.” He flicks his eyes to his junk and back up at me. Waggles his eyebrows.
My drink is nearly empty and I’m feeling a good buzz. “You think I should chat up a guy and take him home with me?”
“I think you should open your eyes. See yourself how others see you. It will all fall into place.” He cups my cheek with his palm. “Don’t look now, but there’s one hot MF checking you out. He’s behind you and to the left.”
Even I have enough game not to turn around and stare at him. Instead, I slide off my barstool, grab my phone and purse and point to the front of the restaurant. “I’ll make a quick trip to the ladies room and have a look. Be right back.”
I confidently stride past the bar toward the dining room and sneak a glance in the general direction of where Pax said the dude was sitting.
Holy friggin’ moly.
My heart stops. As do my feet.
Pax wasn’t kidding. A man with tousled, longish, dark hair cropped short on the sides is buried in a menu. He fills his white T-shirt to perfection, I swear I can see each defined muscle in his arms and chest. His olive skin is smooth. He’s got a square-cut jaw with a hint of stubble. As I get closer, I see he’s a bit older than me from the sprinkling of silver throughout his sexy mane.
His eyes, cast down to peruse food choices, snap to mine as I walk past. They’re incredible. A truly distinctive shade of blue, no—violet.
It’s like I’ve been zapped with a jolt of electricity.
Right to my core.
He’s caught me gawking, so it’s all I can do to keep my feet moving and pretend I’m not affected. This perfect specimen of a man is so completely out of my league it’s not even funny.
Then something unexpected happens.
