“You too.”
I reach over and shake hands with Mark. “Not lovely to see me?” he jokes.
“Ravishing,” I say, sitting down.
We place our orders before we dive into business. Jods hands me a file while Mark starts going over each offer, listing the pros and cons of continuing to scout. “You’re a name now, Danny. This is just a bonus. So if you don’t love doing this, spend your time more wisely and focus on the modeling.”
I read over the offers, mainly the dollar figures. “They’re good money.”
“They’re good money for people who aren’t named Danny Weston. You make ten times that in a day.”
“I’m not attached to location scouting. It was just a way to branch out a few years ago. The photography I enjoy and I’m good at. I know how to get the best from models, but I think right now it’s more a hobby than something I want to focus on for money.” I close the file. “I say no to all three.”
“I’ll let them know. I think this is wise for your career right now. You’re at the top of your game and from here, it’s the stratosphere.”
“Top of my game makes me think I can only go downhill from here.”
“No, that’s not what it means. It means we choose our next steps carefully. How are you feeling about acting?”
Shaking my head, I instantly reply, “Not that keen.”
“As I mentioned in my office, you don’t have to audition for some of the roles. Easy gigs.”
“I don’t need easy gigs. I’m working a lot as it is.”
“What about the future?”
“We can talk then. Right now, I’m not feeling it.”
Mark smiles. “Good. I think that’s wise. As for Vittori. How’s that going?”
“Well. I leave in two days for New York, then we’re off to Paris two days after that.”
“So you sure you want to eat that burger?”
Tilting my head, I’m annoyed and hope me giving him the evil eye gets the job done.
He blows me off. “Do you have to take your shirt off? Jody?”
Looking through her binder, she runs a finger down her meticulous notes. Stopping three-fourths of the page down, she taps it. “You might,” she says, looking up sympathetically. “There’s a clause that says you might. It’s better to err on the safe side.”
With the best timing ever, my burger is delivered. This calls for another evil glare in Mark’s direction. I push the plate away, and before the waitress leaves, I ask, “Can I get the burger to go and order grilled chicken lightly seasoned with a side of in-season veggies sautéed in light canola or vegetable oil, no butter?”
She smiles, picking up the burger. “Of course. I’ll put that order in now.”
Jody is about to dig into her salad, but looks like she feels bad. “Sorry.”
Mark says, “I’m not. This burger is damn good. You hitting the gym after lunch?”
“I guess I have to. I have a benefit to attend tonight.”
“Ah yes. Make us proud,” he adds, wiping his mouth.
I respond silently with my middle finger expressing how I feel about watching him eat what I’m craving. He’s lucky I like him so much, and he gets me the good gigs or I’d walk out on his ass right now.
Damn lucky.
“Danny?”
“Over here.”
“Look here. Look here!”
“Danny Weston?’
“Right here.”
Angling left, I keep my smile minimal. That works best on the red carpet in photos. Unaffected. Even if I am, I pull it off like this is just another day in the life. I turn to face forward, tucking my hand in my pocket and raising my chin. This angle is always a good one in a well-fitted suit. Shows the lines down my body and highlights my height. With both hands in my pockets, I give the paparazzi to the right a new expression, a slight smirk and steely gaze before being directed to move to the next spot for photos.
The paps think they know what they want. They don’t. I do. I give them what they don’t even realize they need until I deliver it. And then they devour it—eating out of my hand.
I stop on the X marked out on the carpet and repeat the last stop.
Once I’m inside I head straight for the bar. “Bourbon on the rocks.”
The drink is set down and I leave a tip. “Thanks.” Turning to face the room, it’s filling up. I see a few familiar faces but no one who inspires me to cross the room. I’m fucking starving, but don’t see anything on the buffet I can eat before this photo shoot. My mind wanders while staring out one of the large windows. I should take a jog in the morning. I can’t drink too much tonight. I need sleep, but I definitely need at least one to take the edge off.
Since leaving Marfa, I’ve been off my game. I’ve wanted to text Reese a thousand times, but I’m starting to think she wants the time apart to figure out what’s happening in her life and with us.
Chuckling to myself, I find it funny that I assume I have this all figured out. All I know is that Reese Carmichael has made me reconsider my dating habits. I also don’t want to eat crow with Luke. I’ve told him to go after the girl, so I can’t sit idly by and let her walk away again. But I’m more confused than ever. Despite what Becs said about Reese’s mood after spending the night with me, I’m reminded of her closing sentiments.
We may never have New York or Paris, but we’ll always have Marfa.
“Hello.”
I follow the melodic voice and look beside me. A woman, beautiful blonde with her hair up—classically styled, black dress, not too revealing and pretty. Hazel eyes lit up by the bright day before us, and a confidence that comes with a comfort in herself. I’m guessing she’s in her late twenties, but you never know in this town the way Botox flows like champagne. “Hello,” I greet her. “I’m Danny Wes—”
“Weston.” She glances down embarrassed. “Please don’t consider me a stalker. Oh, maybe I am.” She laughs. “I was hoping to meet you tonight.”
Turning toward the attractive woman, I ask amused, “Were you now?”
She whispers, “My father is a philanthropist. This cause is personal for him, so he wanted it to be perfect, and of course raise a lot of money.”
“I left a donation check at the door.”
“Oh his behalf, I thank you. I must confess that I requested the invitation be sent to you.”
I’m intrigued. “And why is that?”
“I can’t imagine my reasons are much different from any other admirer.”
“You’re an admirer?”
“I feel silly admitting this to you. I’m a not-so-secret admirer, I suppose, since I’ve outed myself.”
“So my not-so-secret admirer knows me and my name, and yet, I know nothing about you other than you have great taste in men.” I chuckle. She laughs, then sips her champagne.
She offers her hand and I take it. “I’m Anna Collins.”
“Very nice to meet you, Anna Collins.” No ring. Eyes on mine. “For a stalker, I don’t think you’re living up to the reputation.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re much too restrained.” I tease, “I don’t think you even swooned since meeting me.”
That makes her laugh again. “Well, maybe I’m not a stalker after all, but it is very nice to meet you.” She finishes her drink. “And I’ve been swooning on the inside.”
“If I wasn’t enjoying your company so much, I might be offended by your lies.”
“No lie, but it does take a lot to make me swoon.”
“Well, I’m here if you need smelling salts.”
“Ahh, you make the ladies swoon and then help revive them. You’re quite the man, Mr. Weston, but I guess I knew that already. What I didn’t expect is how charming you’d be.”
Smiling, I say, “I think I might be undeserving of all the compliments.”
“I read how active you are with different charities, and I was impressed. You’re handsome and generous with your time and money. I never get star-struck, but you seemed
to do it to me.”
“My apologies,” I retort playfully. I take another sip of my bourbon. “So you invited me just to meet me?”
“No, but selfishly I benefit. As does the charity.”
I lean against a column, my attention on her instead of the view outside. “I’m happy to be of service, Ms. Collins.”
Taking a step back, she seems to blush under my gaze. “I’ve taken too much of your time with my ramblings over a small infatuation. I should go and mingle.” Her hand waves toward the room behind her. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Weston, to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Collins.”
Looking back out the window, I finish my drink. A tap on the shoulder gets my attention. I smile when I see her.
Anna says, “Sorry for bothering you again, but I was wondering if you were seeing anyone?”
An eyebrow is raised from her boldness, but I can’t stop the smile. “If you want me to be honest, then I would have to say my current relationship status is complicated.”
Exhaled disappointment is expressed. “Well, it was worth a try.”
“I appreciate the interest,” I say, and because I hate letting people down, I add, “If the situation was different—”
“It’s fine. And thank you. Maybe another time things will be less… complicated.”
“Maybe.”
I watch her walk away this time, wondering if I’m making a mistake. I’m pretty confident the mistake I made was letting Reese get away ten years ago. I take my phone and decide to text her, consequences be damned.
Me: I miss the way you smell.
Shrugging, I make no apologies for the heavy-hitting message. Just as I’m tucking my phone away, it buzzes. Flipping the screen on, there’s a message from Reese.
Reese: You smelled me?
Smiling, I type: And more. I also miss the taste of you.
Reese: Danny…
Me: Reese…
Reese: We shouldn’t do this.
Me: We should.
Reese: We can’t.
Me: We can. Tell me what you miss about me.
Staring down at my screen, I wait, but nothing comes. When the screen goes black, I sigh and go back to the bar for another drink. Right as I’m about to order, the screen lights up. Stepping off to the side, I turn my back to the crowd for privacy.
Reese: I miss you tasting and smelling me. I miss the way you taste and smell. I miss the way your scent lingers on my skin and hate that when I showered it was gone. I miss so much I shouldn’t.
Me: There is nothing wrong with the way you feel. I feel it too. This isn’t wrong. We’re not wrong.
Reese: I could lose my job.
Me: It wouldn’t be a job worth having then.
Reese: Says the millionaire.
Me: I can’t make you any promises when you won’t believe in us.
Reese: Believing in us equates into risking my career. I can’t give up everything I’ve worked for on the unknown.
Me: I’m not the unknown. You know me better than anyone. Like I know you better than anyone else.
Reese: You never lacked confidence.
Me: It’s what attracted you to me in the first place.
Reese: Actually, that was your ass. You always did have a great ass, you sexy bastard.
Chuckling, I’m reminded how good we were together. So good. I just need to keep reminding her.
Me: Yours isn’t so shabby itself.
Reese: I guess I have to settle for “isn’t so shabby” compared to your great ass.
Me: You have a fantastic ass, but I don’t want the compliment going to your head.
Reese: Good point. Your ego is big enough for the both of us.
Me: Truth be told, I could spend hours telling you how amazing your ass is, but I have a feeling you won’t believe me.
Reese: I might have to take you up on those hours. Maybe when you’re in NYC.
I mentally fist-pump. Score!
Me: I’m going to hold you to that.
Reese: I like being held by you. Almost as much as I like your ass.
Me: You always were an ass girl.
Reese: You’re telling me.
Ha!
Me: It’s a date.
Reese: Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said hours.
Me: That’s all I need.
Reese: So cocky.
Me: Speaking of…
Reese: On that note, see you Monday, Danny.
Me: I look forward to it.
22
DANNY
Hud’s is packed. Luke is sitting like the king of the castle in the corner. I sit down.
“How’d you score this table?”
“I dropped your name.”
“Naturally. Where are your girls?”
“Bathroom.”
“Ah. So who are they and what are we drinking?”
“Crystal and Yvette. Pharmaceutical reps in town for a convention.”
“How’d you meet them and why don’t I have a drink yet?”
“I’ve ordered already.”
The waitress arrives with a tray of martinis. I shoot Luke a look and shake my head in disgust. “Okay, 007, you’re obviously trying to impress these women. Hook me up with the details before they get back.”
Luke hands the waitress his card to keep the tab open. When we’re alone again, he leans over the edge of the table and says, “I need a date in a few weeks.”
“What’s in a few weeks? And since when did you have trouble finding dates?”
“I appreciate the support.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Get on with it.”
“There’s a wedding, a co-worker’s. The thing is, my co-worker is marrying this jackass that’s friends with Jane’s loser boyfriend.”
Sitting back, the picture is clear. “Ahhh, so you’ll see Jane there, but you don’t want to be dateless.”
“I don’t want to look like a loser.”
“You’re playing this all wrong, my friend.”
He drinks half his martini, then sets it down, nervously messing with the napkin. “Tell me, old wise one.”
“I don’t appreciate the old cracks. And I’m only three years older than you.”
“Fuck, Danny, get on with it. The girls will be back soon.”
“If you walk into that wedding with some girl you just met, you’re just proving once again that you aren’t the commitment type. You’re also sending a non-verbal message that you’re fine without her. When, let’s face it, you’re a mess, even after all this time without her.”
“Shit. So I should call off this whole operation?”
Nodding, I reply, “If you want Jane back. You need to end this. And what happened to Josie?”
“Janet. Eh, she wanted to get more serious than I did.”
Everything about him shouts commitment-phobe tonight. “You sure you want Jane back?”
“I’m sure. Life is easier with her.”
Now he’s got me leaning forward, feeling the need to dig into this deeper. “Love is not about life being easier. Love is life being better during the hard times.” He’s staring at me. “I’ve said too much, right?”
“Oh, Dan Man. You’re a goner.”
Two women approach from the side and I think my jaw drops open. Oh, no.
“Hi,” a redhead with big green eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. “You must be Danny?”
Standing up, I say, “I am. You are?”
“Crystal. And this is my friend Yvette.”
Fuck! The other woman is gorgeous too. When she speaks, I hear a French accent. “You’re French, Yvette?”
“Oui. I am.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time there.” I hold the chair out for her.
She sits and looks up at me. “I’d love to hear about it.”
Luke helps Crystal and returns to his seat. Over drinks that I wouldn’t drink for anyone other than these women, we talk about their job
s, France, and the convention they’re attending. Crystal googles me. Everyone gets a good laugh, I’m thinking at my expense until Yvette’s hand slides up my thigh under the table.
At another point in my life, in a time when Reese Carmichael had not re-entered my life—and I still wasn’t thinking about the text conversation I had earlier—I’d let Yvette’s hand run the course and find out what I’d have in store for her.
Instead, I cover her hand with mine, and trying not to embarrass her, I whisper, “You’re beautiful, but I’m seeing someone.”
Her hand pulls back like she’s been burned. Most women don’t care, I’ve discovered, when I say that. Yvette. She’s different. She’s humiliated, which is exactly opposite of how I wanted her to feel. “I’m sorry,” I add as if that will take away the rejection.
“I’m sorry. I was not acting myself, but thought I was in LA and I should… it’s stupid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not stupid. And if this were a few weeks ago, I’d have a very different reaction. So please. No apologies.”
She nods, not able to make eye contact. I stand, needing to get fresh air. “Please excuse me. I’ll be back.”
Luke excuses himself as well. When he catches up to me, I remind him, “We’re not chicks, dude. We don’t do the bathroom in groups.”
“I need a cigarette.”
“You don’t smoke.”
We walk out the back door to the patio. He asks, “Why did I stop again?”
“Because it’s bad for your health.” I lean against a wood wall, wishing he hadn’t followed me out here. I’m irritated at him. And myself. “Dude, go back inside.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Why did you fucking set me up?”
“What? Why are you mad?”
“I’m mad because you know how I feel about Reese, then dangle one of the hottest women I’ve ever seen in front of me like a fucking carrot and expect me not to bite.”
The stress that resided in the lines across his forehead lighten and he laughs. “So that’s what this is about? You’re tempted? Let me ask you, Danny. What happened in Texas that has you so closed off to what seems like a sure thing—a beautiful and sexy sure thing to be exact?”
I nod, not willing to give away everything that easily.
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 276