Текст книги "Red Carpet Kiss"

Автор книги: Melissa Brown

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

He was perfect.

But could he act?

Elle attempted to play it cool. “What has he done?” She flipped the shot, revealing the actor’s resume filled with commercials and a handful of pilots that had never aired. It was severely lacking compared to the other actors on the docket.

“Not much,” Whitney answered. “But there’s something about him, don’t you think?”

Elle flipped the resume over to stare, once again, at the strikingly handsome actor. “Yeah. Something.”

“Well, he’s on his way now. So we’ll see if he has that ‘something’ in person.”

“God, I hope so. The others have been so lackluster.”

“Yeah.” Whitney bit on the edge of her pen. “Let’s hope Mr. Gorgeous can act.”

Elle let out a chuckle while secretly hoping Mr. Gorgeous could, in fact, knock their socks off. No matter how handsome he might be, there was no way she’d hire him if his delivery was wooden or forced. The charisma he emanated in the photo needed to translate in his acting. There would be no compromise, as far as she was concerned.

A man cleared his throat and Elle turned her attention to the now-open door. “Excuse me, ladies. I’m here to audition for the role of David McKenzie.”

Elle swallowed hard, taking in the sensation of his voice: deep, soothing, smooth. She felt her cheeks warm as Whitney responded, urging him into the room.

“Yes, do you need a minute to prepare?”

Luke closed the door behind him and walked to the table where Elle and Whitney sat. He placed another head shot on the table before his lips pulled to one side. “No, I’m ready. I practiced all the way here.”

Whitney stood and extended her hand. “I’m Whitney Bartolina, casting director.”

Luke shook her hand. “Pleasure.”

Elle rose to her feet. “Nice to meet you, I’m—”

“Elle Riley, creator of the show,” Luke interrupted, meeting her eyes. “I know who you are.”

Elle felt her cheeks redden. Of course she knew he’d obviously done his research on the show. After all, her picture was on the network’s website; she’d walked the red carpet. She wasn’t exactly a household name, but many in the industry knew who she was.

Her brain knew her body should resist reacting to the actor’s gesture. But she couldn’t contain the excitement that stirred deep in her abdomen. Luke extended his hand to Elle and she reciprocated the gesture. But unlike his simple handshake with Whitney, he placed his left hand over hers as they moved their hands slowly up and down.

Luke shook his head. “Such a pleasure to meet you, you have no idea.”

“Thank you.”

Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away and returned to her seat. She avoided Whitney’s eyes, knowing her friend would see right through her act of normalcy. She was attracted to an actor . . . in the middle of an audition. She’d never hear the end of it.

“Elle will read through the scene with you.”

“Great.”

Luke stood a few feet from the table, ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair, and took a deep breath. And for just a brief moment, his nerves were obvious to Elle. He took one last glance at the script, then directed his gaze at her. Elle was startled by the color of his eyes. The black-and-white head shot didn’t do them justice. They were blue, bright sky blue. She wondered if they were real or colored contacts. It wouldn’t be the first time an actor had covered up his own eyes for dazzling baby blues.

“Now, keep in mind, this role is still in the creative stages. But David is the head of security for the hotel. He’s tough, obviously, but he’s also smart. Smart in a way Molly doesn’t expect. This character is going to surprise her at every turn.”

“Got it.” Luke’s confidence had returned. He stood up tall, a cocky grin on his face, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I’m ready.”

As Elle and Luke read through the scene, it was clear to her they’d found the man for the part. He was sexy, charismatic, and his delivery of David’s lines was effortless.

“Thank you, Luke. We’ll be in touch.” Elle maintained her poker face, despite the sizzling nerves beneath her skin.

“It was an honor, ladies. Thank you.” Luke flashed Elle and Whitney a dazzling smile layered with confidence before shaking their hands. Just before his hand grasped the doorknob, he turned back to Elle and smiled one last time. It was a sweet and soft smile, a seemingly genuine expression from the handsome actor. Butterflies swarmed her belly.

“I think we found our David.”

Elle stared at the closed door before finally finding her voice. “Yep.” She cleared her throat, and forced her eyes away. “We’ll need to do a read-through with Gina, just to make sure there’s chemistry.”

“True. But Gina has chemistry with everyone.” Whitney laughed. When Elle didn’t join in, Whitney continued. “Are you okay?”

“Are you kidding, I’m thrilled.” Elle sorted the papers, tapping them gently on the desk, still avoiding the eyes of her friend.

“Liar. What’s going on?”

Elle was silent.

“Oh my God, you like him.”

Still, Elle was silent.

“Well, this should be interesting.”

“Shut up.” Elle nudged Whitney with her elbow. “He’s just . . . sexy as hell. Don’t you think? I mean, those eyes . . .”

Whitney nodded, making a face as if to say “duh.”

“Maybe we should keep looking, I mean—”

“No way.” Whitney huffed. “He’s the right man for the role. Period.”

“You’re right.”

“Besides, there is no rule about sleeping with the cast. We’re all adults. Hell, I slept with Nolan three months ago.”

Elle turned to Whitney, her mouth agape. “What? How could you not tell me?”

Whitney shrugged. “It was no big deal. We’d had a bit too much to drink. We started going at it at the wrap party. I really thought you saw us.”

“No, I left early.” Elle’s eyes widened in realization of the series of events that had taken place over the last couple of months, all culminating in the need to hire a new male lead. “Oh my God, Whit. Is that why he’s leaving?”

“Don’t be silly, of course not. He’s going to be a movie star, remember?”

Elle wasn’t convinced. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“It was a one-night thing. No big deal. Besides, he and I are fine. We’re still friends.”

“Interesting,” Elle said, pondering her friend’s revelation. She didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. And she knew it was best if she got her hormones under control when in Luke’s presence. Her show, her baby, her career was at stake. Not only did she have to make her audience fall in love with the character of David McKenzie, she had to make him lovable enough that they abandoned the character of Desmond. She wasn’t convinced she could pull it off, and if she got involved with the new character, she’d only muddle the waters even more.

She would write his lines, create his character. He would make David come to life on the small screen.

And that was it.

Anything more would only lead to trouble.

And Elle Riley didn’t do trouble.

When Elle arrived at the studio gate the following morning, she was astonished to see a crowd of photographers swarming the booth.

“What the hell?” she murmured, pulling the car over. She quickly dialed Whitney, who answered on the first ring.

“It’s TMZ, someone leaked it.” Her voice was flat. She didn’t seem at all surprised. She’d been in the business much longer than Elle and, for the most part, was better at handling the curveballs Hollywood often threw their way. Elle, not so much.

“About Nolan? Seriously? It’s been less than twenty-four hours, for God’s sake!” Her arm leaned against the door as her hand cradled her forehead in defeat. “What should I do, Whit?”

“Don’t let the bloodsuckers get to you. Ignore them and eventually they’ll go away.” She paused. “Eventually.”

Elle ignored Whitney’s calm instructions, focusing on the questions swirling in her brain. “Do you think his people leaked it?”

Without hesitation, Whitney answered. “You bet I do.”

Elle sighed, throwing her head back to crash against the headrest. “When is this going to get easier?”

“For you? Maybe never.” Elle thought she heard a chuckle.

“Not funny.”

“Sorry, but seriously, you have to let these things roll. It’s all part of it. Listen, this should cheer you up—I just spoke with Luke’s agent. He’s coming by this afternoon to read with Gina.”

Just the mention of his name made Elle’s nerves stand at attention. Within seconds, she was no longer concerned about the huddled mass of photographers blocking the gate. Instead, she was listening to the hum of her body, the buzzing in her brain. She knew she’d have to get herself under control, but his presence did something to her—the very thought of him was exhilarating. She couldn’t wait to watch him read with Gina, watch his masculine jaw move as he delivered his lines. Yesterday, she’d read with him and was too nervous to watch him—afraid she’d lose her place in the script and look like a fool. This time, she could lean back in her chair and admire the man who affected her in a way no one had since she’d relocated to California.

“Elle? Elle?”

Her hand jumped to cover her mouth. She’d spaced out and forgotten Whitney was still on the phone with her. What in the world was happening to her? She was acting like a teenager—and a foolish one at that. She was Elle Riley, known for her professionalism and steady hand. She had to snap out of it.

But those eyes . . .

“I’m here, sorry, I dropped the phone.”

“Fine, whatever, just . . . get through the gate and get in here. Rob wants to meet with you.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know—maybe something about needing an entire season of scripts that now include a new character and new storyline?”

“Oh, that. Okay, I’ll be in in five.”

Slowly, Elle pulled up to the studio booth, doing her best not to flinch at the blinding camera flashes or her name being shouted.

“Elle, can we talk to you?”

“Elle, are the rumors true? Is Nolan no longer under contract?”

“Elle, can we get a statement? Can we get a picture?”

It annoyed her that every single shout began with her name, as if she and the gossip-hounds were on some sort of intimate basis. Where she came from, calling someone by his or her first name was something you earned—a friendly form of intimacy. She had a lot to adjust to in this new land of gossip magazines, starlets, and celebrity.

Larry waved her in, opening the gate so she didn’t have to open her window. She could hear the photographers yelling louder as her car pulled into the lot and away from the mania. Once she was out of sight, her pulse returned to its normal rate and she was able to breathe easy. For the time being.

“Okay, let’s be realistic here. We need to film the first twelve episodes before we go on hiatus. How many have you already written for this season?”

“Six, but we have to rewrite almost all of them to include Luke.”

“Not necessarily.” Rob stood and paced the length of his office. There was no desk-perching today. His shaky arms and fidgeting hands gave away his nerves. He was just as concerned as Elle. “You could write him in on episode seven. That leaves sixteen more episodes to develop the love triangle.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough—”

“Sure it is. If we start building it too soon, viewers will complain. They’ll say it’s dragging. This way, if you introduce him midway through the fall season, you can leave them hanging right before hiatus.”

Elle took a moment to process Rob’s idea—she had to give Rob credit, he was a problem-solver, and a hell of a brainstormer. Despite his Hollywood attitude, he had bailed her out of several situations already during her short career. He was a seasoned television director who’d worked on two other television dramas before Follow the Sun and his track record was stellar.

“Okay—but we need to establish some sort of cracks in Desmond and Molly’s relationship. They’re on-again in the season opener . . . we have to make it believable.”

“Of course, make additions, changes, whatever. Just don’t rewrite. Luke will join the cast in episode seven.” Elle appreciated Rob’s no-nonsense discussion. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the wise sage she’d dealt with the day before.

“Got it, chief,” she joked. Rob’s face contorted in confusion and Elle worried she’d made him self-conscious about his approach. “Seriously, though, thank you. You’re going to save me a lot of time.”

“Reinventing the wheel never benefitted anyone. We’ll make this work, and I have a feeling it’ll be just what the show needs.”

Elle nodded. “I hope you’re right.”

Closing the door behind her, Elle said hello to Rob’s secretary and continued toward the open hallway lined with framed posters of the cast. She had a few hours to work on developing episode seven before the read-through that afternoon with Gina and Luke. She could only hope to make some progress so both she and Rob could relax. She hadn’t yet spoken to Nolan since the news broke. Whitney had urged her to let some time pass first. This show was so important to her, it was impossible to separate business from personal. His decision to leave the show bruised not only her fragile ego, but it placed a very large damper on her confidence in future seasons. Was Gina next? Would Follow the Sun become a rotating cast? It was difficult to predict if his departure would have a ripple effect, or if the pebble would just land in the pond, sinking quietly to the bottom.

When she rounded the corner to the hallway leading to her office, she was greeted by an unexpected face. An unexpected handsome face with a relaxed smile, and bright, friendly, sexy eyes.

Luke.

“Hey.” Luke ran his fingers through his hair and Elle wondered what it would be like to do that. To stroke his wavy locks while lying in bed together, completely naked after an intense lovemaking session.

“Uh, hey, I mean, hi. Hi.” Elle stumbled over her words and was instantly mortified. She had to get herself in check or he would suspect she was developing a crush. She was his boss; she had to act like it.

Luke ran his tongue slowly across his bottom lip as he inspected her face, and she felt naked, exposed, as if he could read her thoughts. As if he could see them splayed on her bed, covers and sheets falling toward the cool floor. Both naked. Both flushed and sated from their activities in the bedroom. The bedroom in her brain.

As much as she wanted to deny it, this man did things to her. When she was around him, every cell of her body awoke from a deep sleep. And she liked that feeling; she missed it. In fact, every time she was near Luke, she craved that feeling of being startled awake—of adrenaline coursing through every nerve of her body.

Luke placed one lazy hand on his hip, just below the worn leather belt that fit snugly around his waist. “I know I’m a little early. Thought you might let me take you to lunch.”

Elle glanced at her watch. It was barely nine a.m. When her eyes reconnected with his, she noticed his tan cheeks turn the slightest shade of red. He shrugged and chuckled as he corrected himself. “Or breakfast.”

“I’d love that, really I would, but . . .” She looked around for someone or something to guide her stammering thoughts. “I have so much to do. I have to add you, I mean, David, into the script for episode seven, and I have some backstory to create. I’m just swamped at the moment. You understand, right?”

Why was she turning this gorgeous man away? She had no idea.

“Rain check, then?” Luke persisted, his eyebrows raised, making his eyes appear vulnerable, almost needy. Elle felt her resolve weakening as he stepped closer to her, invading her personal space. Normally, that would’ve bothered her. But when Luke’s arm brushed gently against hers, Elle was intoxicated rather than uncomfortable. She wanted more.

“Yes, of course.” Elle’s expression softened as she leaned in closer. “I’d like that.”

Luke looked appeased, calm. He must have understood she wasn’t closing that door completely. His fingers grazed her forearm and his eyes locked with hers as a satisfied smile crossed his face. Elle felt naked, exposed, as if Luke could read her mind, see the fantasies brewing in her head. “Good.”

Elle’s skin tingled at his touch. “But I’ll, um, I’ll see you at the read-through.”

“Yes, I’ll get to meet the famous Gina Romano.” His fingers remained on her skin, moving slowly back and forth along her arm, which was covered in goose bumps. Elle resisted the urge to move away from his touch. It seemed brazen and inappropriate, but she didn’t want him to stop. So she swallowed hard, doing her best to ignore the dry, cotton-like feel of her throat. “She’s not so bad. I’m sure you’ll like her.”

“So far, I’ve been nothing but impressed.” Luke narrowed his eyes, his fingers slowly moving to grip Elle’s forearm ever so slightly. His message was clear. With that simple gesture, it was obvious to Elle he was just as drawn to her as she was to him.

How they would handle their attraction was another story. For that, Elle had no answers—only more questions. Questions she couldn’t allow herself to entertain. She had a storyline to develop, a character to create, and a show to save.

Her attraction to Luke Kingston would have to wait.

At least for a day or two.

Never had Elle been so turned on, yet so annoyed in all of her adult years. She watched as Gina and Luke read through the lines of a scene she’d written for David.

“David, what are you doing here?” Gina flipped her jet-black tresses behind her shoulder and toyed with the buttons of her silk top as she delivered her lines. Elle cringed, knowing Gina had quite an effect on nearly every man she met. She didn’t want Luke to succumb to Gina’s charms, but the show runner in her was impressed with Gina’s obvious acting skills. She could only hope Gina wasn’t actually interested in Luke.

Luke’s gaze darted to Gina’s more than ample chest and Elle’s heart rate increased. “I can’t stay long,” the actor recited. “I’m needed back at the casino.” Luke smiled at Gina and instantly Elle was pissed off.

Their chemistry permeated the room. This was a good thing, she attempted to remind herself. It was powerful for the show. Their obvious attraction amped up the scene and she knew it would work. Audiences would buy it. They’d root for David and eventually accept Desmond’s departure. Luke and Gina would be the new faces of Follow the Sun. She saw everything brimming inside her head: success, high Nielsen ratings, bragging rights, possible awards. She saw it all. But she also saw the undeniable spark between the two actors, and it manifested itself in a rush of adrenaline in her gut.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to end the reading. “That’s great, thanks. I think we have all we need.”

Luke nodded, shook Gina’s hand, and paused briefly to look back at Elle. Heat filled her cheeks as his lips turned into a half smile, before he left the room. She didn’t want him to go, but she knew it was necessary in order for her to regain her composure.

“Well, isn’t he a hottie?” Gina said, winking at Elle. Elle pursed her lips and nodded, dismissing the actress from the room.

Elle nodded to Whitney, giving her the all clear to finalize Luke’s offer of a contract.

“You okay?” Whitney tilted her head. “You seem out of sorts.”

“I am.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Is it Mr. Gorgeous?”

Elle smiled begrudgingly. “Maybe. I hate that I barely know him and I’m already feeling like this. It’s why I avoid getting involved! I feel unglued already and we just met.”

“Don’t self-sabotage, Elle. I can tell you want to. You get this look in your eye.”

Whitney was right. Since arriving in California, Elle had sabotaged every relationship she’d begun. Every last one. As much as she tried to decipher her patterns, and as much as she allowed Whitney to psychoanalyze her, she didn’t know why she did it. She didn’t know why she was this way. But if she was being honest, none of the men she’d dated since moving to California had made adrenaline course through her veins the way Luke did. It was why her self-saboteur status was in full effect.

“I can’t make any promises.”

“I mean it. You like him—don’t cut it off before it even begins. You can’t control everything in life—you can’t keep yourself from getting attached, from getting hurt. That’s just life.”

“It’s better for the show if I avoid an affair with one of my actors, Whit. This has the potential to get extremely messy and you know it.”

“Whatever. You’ve spent years worrying about the show. The show is just fine. What about you? When will you start taking care of Elle?”

“Someday.” She offered a weak smile.

She retreated to her office, telling her friend she was swamped with scriptwriting. Everyone knew she was on a time crunch as filming began the following week. She’d managed to alter the first six episodes, and had completed episode seven, but she had over a dozen yet to complete. She had a team of writers to assist her, but being the perfectionist she was, she wasn’t ready to give them control when it came to the addition of David’s character. Rob had bristled at her possessive outlook on the season, but backed off eventually when Elle promised to step back slightly after episode ten, allowing the other writers to contribute to the storyline.

When she reached her office, she was surprised to see Luke waiting in a chair, studying his cell phone. He rose to his feet as she approached, his cocky smile returning to his square jaw. Aside from his flushed cheeks, his overall demeanor screamed of confidence—his broad shoulders, the one hand resting on his hip as he pushed the phone into his back pocket, and the way he stared at her as if she were a delectable dish he was dying to consume.

“Can I help you?” She didn’t mean to sound brusque, but she was starting to wonder if this was all a game—a game meant to mess with her head.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, closing the gap between them. She could smell his scent—woodsy and light, nothing too harsh. She liked that natural smell and was relieved he wasn’t one of those actors who covered themselves in the latest trendy scent. Luke leaned in, his nose tickling the skin of her ear. She shuddered.

“In private,” he whispered.

Elle turned to close the door. When it clicked shut, she pushed him against the cold wood, her finger pressed to his chest. She watched as he glanced down at her hand pressed against the button of his shirt. An uneven smile formed on his face.

“What are you doing?” she said. “Are you trying to make trouble?”

“I don’t understand—”

She narrowed her eyes and peered into his unapologetic stare. “Yes, you do.”

“According to my agent, this is perfectly acceptable. We’re adults.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “Is this a ploy? Because if it is, you don’t need to worry about that. Whitney’s already giving them the go-ahead, they’re drawing up your contract now. You don’t need to do this just to get the job.”

His hand squeezed hers tightly as his head moved slowly from side to side. “Not a ploy.”

“And I’m supposed to believe this why?” Elle tipped her chin toward Luke, but beneath it, her heart was racing so fast, she felt weak.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—not since we met last week.”

Elle rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

When Luke responded with a look of confusion, Elle continued. “I’m not blind. I saw the way you looked at Gina.” Her voice was faltering beneath her words. She sounded weak, attached . . . everything she didn’t want to appear to Luke Kingston.

“She is pretty cute . . .” He shrugged before taking her hand in his and lowering it to rest on her hip. “But she’s not who I want.”

Elle released her hand from his grip, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Silence hung in the air.

“I loved reading with her, I’m not gonna lie about that. But you’re the one I think about. Yours is the face that keeps me up at night.”

Still, Elle remained silent, not sure what to say.

“And what happens when this,” she said, motioning between their two bodies, “doesn’t work out? Your contract won’t be up for two seasons. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, Luke. Think this through.”

Elle didn’t do awkward. She didn’t want to avoid a member of her cast, let alone have to resist the urge to kill off his character. There would be table reads, and hundreds of takes during production. She needed to keep her work environment a safe one—one without conflict. Why couldn’t he understand that?

“One date.” He stepped closer, running his hand down her cheek. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his soft hands and forgetting all about the work environment that seemed to matter so much only seconds earlier.

“One night, you mean,” she replied, feeling she had nothing to lose. She was ready to lay her cards out on the table. If Luke was looking for a one-night stand, he’d need to look somewhere else.

“If that’s what you choose,” he corrected her. “But I’m not looking for that.”

“Neither am I.” It was the truth. It’d been quite some time since Elle had been in a romantic relationship, but she knew herself well. She was the type who grew attached. Casual flings were not her thing.

Luke took one more step toward Elle. Her breath caught as she awaited his next move. Leaning in, his lips brushed against hers, not in a kiss, but in a teasing motion, stirring something within her. Back and then forth, he moved his lips ever so slightly to tickle hers. Her chest rose and fell with each second. She longed for him to stop teasing her. Luke moved his feathery touches to her jaw and then to her neck, never kissing her, only touching her just enough to send shivers down her spine.

“Give me a chance, Elle. I’m not that guy, seriously.”

Despite the nagging feeling that this was, in fact, a mistake, Elle closed her eyes and whispered her answer, “One date.”

Luke stood tall and ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s all I’m asking for. Tonight?”

“What time?”

“Whenever you’re free.”

“You’re certainly making this easy.”

“I can’t help it.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, their chests pressed to one another. “This is what you do to me.”

“Seven o’clock?” Elle asked, avoiding the intimacy of their embrace as her heart pumped furiously inside her body.

“Perfect. There’s this wonderful restaurant . . . Angelini Osteria. Have you been?”

“I think so.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up.”

Elle scrunched her lips together before responding. “Actually, I’ll meet you there.”

Luke broke eye contact briefly. “That works too.”

He then placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, released her from his grasp, and walked out the office door. Elle, lost in thought, walked to her office chair, slumping down inside the comfort of the worn leather. Her skin tingled, her heart pounded, and her mind wandered. She was in trouble. Yep. Lots and lots of trouble.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Whitney screeched into the phone. Elle stood in her bra and panties, cell phone pressed to her ear as she held a black lace cocktail dress to her body. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, her bangs swept loosely across her forehead. Her makeup was completed, but she had no idea what to wear. She tilted her head, trying to envision what was appropriate for this date. She didn’t want to be overdressed or too sexy. But then again, not being sexy enough was not an option. Luke had made it clear he was attracted to her, that he couldn’t stop thinking about her . . . and despite her snarky attitude earlier that afternoon, the feelings were completely mutual. She wanted to be just the right amount of sexy.

“I’m fine,” she choked out, placing the black dress back in her closet, trading it for a strapless denim dress with a large brown leather belt.

“I can hear The White Album. You only listen to that when you’re freaking out. Talk to me, Elle.”

Elle cringed at how well Whitney knew her and her habits. Whitney hit the nail on the head when she recognized The White Album—an album with songs laced with creativity and storytelling that eased Elle’s mind when she was feeling anxious and contemplative. By the time she reached “Blackbird” she was usually able to calm herself down. But she was way past “Blackbird” and the adrenaline coursing through her body still hadn’t subsided.

“I have a date. One I’m not so sure about.”

“A date? And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Oh my God, you caved, didn’t you?”

Elle groaned into the phone. “I couldn’t help it. He’s . . . persistent.”

Whitney laughed.

“Don’t laugh at me. Seriously, this is probably a huge mistake. We both know it.”

“You and Luke or you and me?” Whitney pressed.

“You and me. He has no idea. The guy’s done a few pilots and commercials. He hasn’t done anything long-term yet. He has no idea how awkward this will get when the shit hits the fan.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

“Be serious. As soon as fans recognize him on the street, I’m toast.”

“That’s a possibility, I guess. But not a given,” Whitney suggested. “And as usual, you’re selling yourself short.”

“No, I’m just a realist. Stardom affects everyone, just in different ways. And I have no idea how it’ll affect him.” Her fingers grazed over the earrings in her jewelry box, finally stopping on a pair of silver hoops.

“So then why bother? Just put your sweats on and hang out with Linus. Avoid, sabotage, and self-destruct.” Elle hated the tone of Whitney’s voice and the condescension reverberating through it.

“Don’t be an asshole,” she replied, slipping one earring through her ear. Quickly, she transferred the phone to that ear and repeated the process with the second earring.

“Whatever. There’s a reason you’re thirty-five and single. No offense.”

“Hey,” Elle said. “I’m not the only one who’s single in this conversation.”

“Okay, first of all,” Whitney began, “I’m thirty-two.”

“Irrelevant.”

“And secondly, I date, and often. I’m perfectly content with my life.”

“And so am I.”

Silence hung in the air. It was a blatant lie. Elle knew it, and she was fully aware her best friend did too. They’d shared too much for Whitney to play the fool.

Whitney sighed. “C’mon, Eleanor. We both know that’s not true.”

Most people in Los Angeles were not allowed to refer to Elle by her given name, but Whitney was the exception. Even though it graced the covers of her romance novels, since moving to the Los Angeles spotlight, she’d chosen to modernize all aspects of her life, including her name. When Whitney used her true first name, Elle knew she was serious. She’d had enough and needed to make her point, so Elle decided to concede.