by Anna Paige
I shrugged. “Getting an early start on the festivities.”
“You wild woman,” he quipped.
“I’ll have you know, Mr. Hollywood, that I plan to add peppermint Schnapps to it as soon as five o’clock rolls around.” I fought hard not to laugh, trying to maintain my deadpan tone. It didn’t work.
He chuckled along with me and pointed to the kitchen. “Why wait? It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”
I stood and nodded in agreement as I headed to the kitchen. “I seem to recall having heard that before.”
“That was easy,” he teased.
“Well, I have Gavin-fucking-Lane standing in my living room and it’s kind of got me on edge, so I thought a little alcohol wouldn’t hurt.” I reached up and snagged the bottle from the cabinet, realizing too late how much my tank top rode up in the process.
Oh well, one more reason to drink.
“So, I’m Gavin-fucking-Lane, huh? I usually prefer plain old Gavin, but whatever.”
I could hear his smirk as I kept my back to him and opened the bottle. “Plain isn’t a word I’ve ever heard associated with you, Gavin. But thanks for pointing out how ridiculous I sounded. I think I’ll just stick a straw in this bottle and skip the ice cream altogether.”
He chuckled from somewhere behind me and a moment later, I felt him at my back. I tensed involuntarily at his proximity and watched as he reached around me to place the mostly-melted bowl of ice cream on the counter.
“Or I could take you somewhere and buy you a proper drink. This being the south, I bet you can find a killer mint julep.”
I didn’t care for juleps because of my aversion to bourbon, but I knew something even better. I would have told him as much but I was having difficulty forming words with him standing so close.
His breath skittered across my neck for a split second before he moved away. “Of course, we’d have to be careful. Once the paparazzi locks onto my presence, all hell usually breaks loose. But ball caps and big shades usually at least get me in the door without being recognized.”
“That sounds like a huge pain in the ass. Not being able to go out without being hounded and watched…” I actually shuddered at the thought.
He snorted softly. “Luckily, I like hats. I have a huge collection of them. Shades too.”
I finally turned to look at him and caught a flash of something in his expression that told me he wasn’t quite as comfortable with his fame as he claimed. “How about a compromise?” I suggested, still marveling that he was there at all, much less interested in spending time with me.
He quirked a brow and tugged on the bill of his hat, straightening it and looking so sexy I nearly groaned. Jesus, he didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it. “What kind of compromise?”
“We make a run to the liquor store instead and bring it back here. I’m a fairly decent bartender. That way we won’t have to worry about the media.”
He looked me over, considering. Having his eyes on me the way they were, studying, appraising, judging…it made me incredibly self-conscious, and I found myself squirming under his gaze.
“Could you not do that, please,” I muttered, unable to look at him any longer. I barely resisted the urge to tap my fingers to my thumb as I focused on the counter by the stove, a safe distance from his assessing eyes.
“Do what?” he asked, confusion in his tone.
“Study me that way. It’s unnerving.”
He was silent for a moment, then I watched in my peripheral vision as he closed the distance between us before stopping an arm’s length away. “I meant no offense, Kaiti,” he said softly. “I find you interesting, is all.”
“Then you’ve led a pretty sheltered life for a movie star.”
“TV star,” he corrected. “And it has nothing to do with being sheltered. It has to do with spending my whole life surrounded by phonies. People who play the part onstage and off. People who wouldn’t know how to be genuine if their lives depended on it.”
“So, I fascinate you because I’m genuine?” I snorted. “Is that Hollywood talk for ‘needs a nose job?’”
He chuckled and reached out to place one finger under my chin, nudging it up until I met his eyes. “That’s what I’m talking about. Your candor and lack of pretense is the most refreshing thing I’ve experienced in a long time.”
I gave him a bland look. “Seriously, cameras or no cameras, you need to get out more.”
He turned and looped his arm through mine, steering us toward the hallway. “Good idea. First stop, the liquor store. Right after you change.”
I looked down at myself and cringed.
Oh shit. I’ve been standing here talking to Gavin-fucking-Lane with no bra on.
Stupid high beams.
I blushed so hard it felt like my face was on fire. Mortified, I pulled my arm away and scurried past him in a mad dash to get to my room. “I’ll be ready in ten,” I managed as I tried not to die of embarrassment.
“Take your time. It’s still early.” There was humor in his voice as he called out down the hall after me. “Might want to dry your hair. And maybe try something with long sleeves? You seem a bit cold-natured.”
Oh, god…
Why didn’t I just put the damn straw in the stupid bottle? I could be half shit-faced by now.
Three
Gavin
As soon as Kaiti closed her bedroom door, my phone started vibrating in my pocket. Taking it out, I shook my head at the name on the screen.
Bryce.
Accepting the call, I stepped over to the window. “Jeez, dude. I just barely got here. What?”
“She let you in?”
“Um, yeah. Barely.”
He sighed in relief. “Where is she now?”
“Changing. We’re going to run an errand and come back here for drinks.”
“Did you get a glimpse of the stun gun?” He tried for a serious tone.
“No, dumbass. I know how not to be a douche, so no threats were necessary.” I chuckled. “Besides, she couldn’t have worn it with what she had on when I got here.”
“And what exactly was she wearing?”
“None of your business, jackass.”
“You suck,” he quipped. “Anyway, do your best here. I’m set on her playing Meadow and we need to get her in here pronto if we want to stay on schedule.”
I pulled my hat up and readjusted it on my head, a habit of mine when I was frustrated. “Look, I said I’d talk to her but I’m not going to be pushy. She needs to choose for herself.”
“Not pushy… persuasive. I know you can do that. If you can’t think of what to say, try to imagine yourself in her place. What would it take for someone to convince you to take the role? What do you wish you’d known before you started out?”
I scoffed, “You don’t want me to answer that, dude. Seriously.”
“What the fuck ever, Lane. You love acting.”
“Acting, yes. The business? Not so much anymore.”
“This business has set you up for life. It’s allowed you to take care of your parents, bought them a place to retire on Maui, provided you with four fucking houses, dozens of cars, and more pussy thrown in your face than a gynecologist… So, tell me again how sick of it you are.”
“Keep talking shit and I’m gonna borrow Kaiti’s stun gun,” I groused. “And money isn’t everything.”
“Easy to say when you have a ton of it.”
I glanced back at the hall and lowered my voice. “And all that pussy you’re so envious of? Attached to women who are only interested in climbing the social ladder. Hell, most of my so-called relationships were arranged for the ratings and you know that better than anyone. So don’t tell me how to feel about being used.”
“Why do you have such a bug up your ass lately?”
“Jesus, Bryce. You’re asking that question while you’re using me yourself. I’m not a head-hunter. But here I am. Why? Because my boss-slash-friend wants to use me as bait.”
He was quiet for a while. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked you to go.”
“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” I blew out a breath. “But I’m here now and I actually like her, so I’ll stay. Just know that I’m not promising anything. I won’t force her to hear me out.”
“You won’t have to. I’m telling you, she wants this. She’s just afraid.”
“Maybe,” I hedged.
“What does your gut tell you about her?”
“You’re asking me?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, idiot. I’m asking you to be honest with me, as my friend. Is she all I said she’d be?”
“And then some.” I nodded, smiling. “She’s…”
“Yeah?”
How was I supposed to verbalize something I didn’t understand? “I don’t know. But I want to find out.”
“Exactly what I thought you’d say.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I know everything. And—because I know everything—I’m acutely aware of how much you like dissecting people’s personalities.” His laugh was almost maniacal. “And Kaiti Oliver is loaded with personality. You’re gonna have so much fun with this one, Gav, I’m telling you. I know a perfect fit when I see one.”
“Whatever, fool. Let me off this phone so I can finally spend time with someone who doesn’t have an overinflated ego.”
“Too bad Kaiti won’t have the same luxury,” he retorted, laughing.
“Dick,” I said as I hung up on his snarky ass.
I thumbed through my messages and blew out an annoyed breath. One of the social climbers I’d been strategically seen with a few months back was still burning up my phone. It was getting tiresome. I deleted the entire thread without reading it.
Bryce’s mention of my parents reminded me I needed to text my dad and thank him for the new sunglasses he’d sent. He was always doing stuff like that, scouring the ‘net for things he thought I might like.
He replied almost instantly letting me know to expect more and that Mom sent her love and expected a phone call soon. She wasn’t much for texting, so she usually sent messages via Dad. It was cute how tech-phobic she was.
I needed to make a trip to Maui to see them soon, but even my visits with my parents had started to weigh on me. I couldn’t let them see me as anything but happy or they’d worry themselves sick, so I pretended. Like I did with everyone and everything else in my life.
I glanced around the apartment curiously but didn’t see any family photos anywhere. There were a few of Kaiti and a blonde-haired girl—in matching sunglasses on the beach, laughing together at a bar wearing matching ‘my bestie is better than yours’ shirts, random stuff—but no family stuff. I turned back to the window and wondered what it was like to hang on the beach that way with no one trying to sneak pics of you or running up, invading your space to ask for autographs.
I imagined it was peaceful.
Peace was in short supply for me most of the time.
I envied Kaiti that.
My phone buzzed in my pocket—again—and I desperately wished I could just throw it out the window. I just wanted peace.
A little fucking normalcy.
A few hours where no one wanted anything from me.
Was that really so much to ask?
My phone buzzed again and I sighed, touching my forehead to the cool glass.
Apparently so.
Kaiti
How is this my life?
I turned off the hair dryer and fluffed my hair in the mirror, frowning at the uneven waves and wishing I had more time to get it under control. But with Gavin-fucking-Lane waiting in my living room, I could ill afford to waste time on trivial stuff. Besides, he’d already seen me in my binge-watching attire, so what was the point in pretending now?
What a great first impression I must have made.
I didn’t have time to be properly mortified but there would be a lot of face-palming and dramatic groans once I got Mr. Hollywood out of my house.
It usually would have made me uneasy to leave a virtual stranger to wander my apartment, but the shock of exactly who was in my apartment overshadowed that particular facet of my anxiety. Temporarily. Evie was the only person on the planet whose welcome never wore out. Famous or not, Gavin’s presence in my home was bound to trigger my anxiety eventually.
I stepped out of my room in my most expensive—forty-five dollars, thank you very much—jeans, a black cotton V-neck tee that hugged my curves without looking painted on, and my favorite navy Chucks. I’d also donned my best, most headlight-hiding bra in case I got ‘cold’ again in Gavin’s presence.
I made my way down the hall toward the living room, hoping to appear more relaxed than I actually felt. “Okay, I’m ready,” I said as I popped around the corner to find Gavin standing at the bay windows, looking out over the city with a half-smile.
He turned to me and instead of leveling off, his smile got wider—and blindingly beautiful. “You look nice, Kaiti.” He quirked a brow. “Or should I call you Kaiti-fucking-Oliver to even the playing field?”
“Ha ha, Mr. Hollywood. You have an actual sense of humor that doesn’t come from a script. Color me surprised.” I smirked.
Okay, maybe I was handling it better than I thought. Or my tenuous grip on sanity had finally slipped and some other personality—let’s call her Cool Kaiti—had taken over. Either way, it was better than giggling like a moron and stumbling over my words, which is how I would have expected this to go.
Gavin chuckled in that gravelly way that I’d always found incredibly sexy. Only in person, it was ten times as potent as on TV. With him standing only a few feet away, I felt the sound all the way to my toes—which curled in response.
“I’m hilarious, I’ll have you know, Kaiti-fucking-Oliver. They have to dial it back for the show or my hilarity would overshadow the storyline.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Funny and modest. Great combo.” I reached over and grabbed my jacket from the hook in the foyer, nodding for him to follow me out.
That wasn’t good enough for him, apparently, since he stepped ahead of me to open the door and waited to take my arm after I’d locked up behind us.
“Guess I’ll add gentlemanly to the list,” I said, torn between teasing and being truly impressed.
He put his other hand over mine as it rested on his biceps, the one I was trying desperately not to picture myself licking. “I’m the whole package. Hadn’t you heard?”
I rolled my eyes. “I read that somewhere, but I like to make up my own mind about people, Gavin.”
“How am I doing so far?” he asked as we waited for the elevator.
“Well, I’m not sure, to be honest. I mean, I bet no woman on earth ever fantasized about Gavin-fucking-Lane telling them to put more clothes on. Just sayin’.”
He laughed, making my heart skip. “I see I’m not the only one with a good sense of humor.”
“I didn’t say yours was good; I merely noted how surprised I was that you had one.”
He waited for me to enter the elevator ahead of him and chuckled. “I have a feeling tonight’s going to be one for the record books.”
I didn’t bother mentioning that it already was for me.
Gavin
As soon as we stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her building, I pulled my cap low and slipped on my dark shades. The urge to openly stare at her was driving me crazy, but I knew she’d call me on it and I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Still, if ever there was a puzzle I wanted to answer, it was Kaiti Oliver. From the moment Bryce had told me about her, I’d known I had to meet her. But I hadn’t been prepared for this, for her.
“My car’s right over here,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction of where I parked. “The tint’s really dark, you know, in case I’m harboring a celebrity in my passenger seat.”
I nudged her arm as she began to turn in that direction and nodded down the block where my rental was parked at the curb. “Mine’
s right there. And, being the celebrity to which you referred, I also have heavy tint. You know, so no one can tell when I’m chauffeuring around a commoner like yourself. I could get kicked out of the club for this, after all.”
She nodded. “Touché.”
I offered my arm, as I had upstairs, but instead of taking it, she just smiled and waved for me to lead the way. Her eyes darted all around like she was expecting an ambush or something, but she maintained a leisurely pace at my side.
When we drew near my car, she looked it over with a curious expression. “This is yours?”
“What? Expecting a Porsche?” I teased as I moved to open her door.
She frowned a little, causing a small line to form between her brows. Her inky dark eyes narrowing in thought. “No, not exactly. But this…” She swept her hand in the direction of the car. “There are fifty of these in the parking lot of the crappy factory where I work. It’s just so…”
“Non-descript?”
Realization dawned in her eyes as she folded herself into the passenger seat. “Ah, I get it. You’re hiding. Blending in so people don’t know who you are.”
“Exactly.” If she only knew how right she was. On a lot of levels.
I slid into my seat, started the engine, and got some air flowing through the vents—it was stuffy but not particularly hot—before turning to ask her where the closest liquor store was.
When my eyes found her face, though, the question went right out of my mind. She was looking at me with such a sweet, genuine smile on her face that it stole my breath. I just sat there for a second, taking her in while trying not to make her uncomfortable. My dark glasses helped hide it, but it was still obvious. Needing to distract her from the fact that I was memorizing every nuance of her expression, I asked, “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
The edges of her mouth lifted even further. “Because I realized we have something in common—hiding.” Her eyes roamed my face in the same way mine roamed over hers.
“You’re not hiding now,” I told her in a near-whisper, my gaze lingering on her mouth. She knew I was staring, but she wasn’t shying away like she had upstairs.