Riley smiled and nodded. Harlan was a good director, but Riley didn’t care much for him as a person. He would likely be working with him again on future Infinite Destinies films, though, so he had to play nice.
A commotion near the VIP stand caught his attention. Sometimes crazy fans did desperate things to get noticed by one or more celebrities. He moved closer to his mother, studiously ignoring the hubbub.
Sam hurried over. “Nothing to worry about,” she told him cheerfully. “The usual crazypants Riley fan. Security’s not as good here as it was before. I think they got a new firm to do crowd control.”
He was dimly aware of a high-pitched cry calling his name. Something about it seemed familiar.
He glanced at the stands, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. To his ears, the fans’ half-screamed cheers were a wall of white noise like the least relaxing track on a seascapes CD—hungry gulls shrieking for more.
“Riley! Riley! Riley! It’s me!”
That flash of pink again, and he turned to really look this time, painting on a grin for whoever was trying so hard to get his attention.
“We’re going in,” Sam said. He nodded absently, still scanning the stands. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something. Maybe he’d imagined it.
He linked arms with his mother and started forward. The Infinite Destinies banner was plastered across the marquee over the main entrance, his trademark glower so big he could see his pores.
“Riley!”
The voice came on a desperate rasp, and it was so familiar, so exquisitely sensual in his memory, that it punched him in the gut. He spun around.
At first, he thought he was seeing things. The pink stripe of hair... It couldn’t be.
“Riley!” Her voice seemed to be coming from far away. As far as Hawaii.
Three big security guards grabbed her as she burst through a break in the barricade. As those meaty arms seized her, she gasped his name again...
The same way she had that night.
It was her. It was Katherine Schwinn.
“Hey!” He shot toward the men trying to frog-march her away. “Stop. I know her.” The security guards, one on each arm and a third directly behind her, had Kat strung up by her clothes. They stared at him blankly. He summoned his most patient, charming smile. “It’s cool, guys. Let her go.”
“Riley.” Kat collapsed to her knees. The bouncers hovered, as if they were ready to kick her if she made one wrong move.
“Seriously, guys, I know her. She won’t cause any trouble.” He hated it when the muscle got overzealous. Kat was hardly a threat to anyone, much less him.
She had her arms wrapped around her middle. Her face was flushed and sweaty, and dark circles ringed her eyes. Her blond hair lay flat and lank, almost too thin against her delicate skull, and the vibrant cotton-candy-pink stripe hadn’t been dyed in a few months, judging by the dark roots. She looked like a washed-out version of the waitress he’d met in that Hawaiian tiki bar.
“I... I’ve been trying to find you...”
Now that he’d rescued her, he became keenly aware of the rest of the crowd, the cameras on him, his mother standing nearby, all watching, and he knew they were all asking the same question: Who was this mystery woman Riley Lee Jackson was talking to?
“It’s nice to see you, Kat,” he said automatically, helping her to her feet. Their one-night stand hadn’t amounted to much apart from some keen memories he liked to revisit whenever he was lonely. That was what he told himself, anyhow, to explain away the heady rush of nostalgic lust pulsing through him. Her hand slipped into his, and heat throbbed across his muscles, making him twitch. Only the cheering around him kept him rooted to the real world, reminding him of their very public spectacle. “Listen, I’ve got to go in...”
“No, Riley.” Kat’s death grip on his sleeve made the security men tense. “You don’t understand. I tried to call, I wrote, I emailed, I did everything I could to contact you—”
“I’ve been working.” Oh, boy. He hoped she wasn’t one of those women. They’d had fun that night, but that was it. She’d made that pretty clear herself.
“Riley.” She gripped him by both arms, drawing him closer. “Look at me.”
He searched her face, saw the desperate tears gathering in her blue eyes, a color as deep as the Pacific, the intense flush on her softly rounded cheeks.
Her chin drooped, and he followed the motion down to the unmistakable baby bump hiding beneath her open jacket.
“It’s yours,” she whispered.
Copyright © 2016 by Vicki So
ISBN-13: 9781488006517
Spying on the Boss
Copyright © 2016 by Janet Lee Nye
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