“Unbelievable.” Delaney tossed her strawberry-blond ponytail over her shoulder. “The line is at the end of the movie. It’s what Keith says to Watts when he gives her the earrings he bought with his college fund.”
“He blew his college fund on a pair of earrings?” Bonnie gasped, horrified at the prospect.
“Trust me, it’s very romantic,” Delaney assured her.
“Well, it sounds like Theo’s proposal was very romantic.” Sadie smiled at Bonnie. Raising her glass, she added, “A toast, to the future Mrs. Theodore Wharton.”
“That reminds me,” Cassie said after they’d all clinked glasses. “Whenever you do get hitched, will we have to start calling you ‘Duchess’?”
“Or ‘my lady’?” Delaney wondered.
“The proper address is ‘Your Grace.’ But please don’t call me that.” Bonnie paused, grinning wickedly. “Unless we’re having tea with Theo’s mother.”
“The dragon lady?” Cassie asked.
“Ooh, that would totally frost her scones.” Delaney nodded approvingly.
“Totally,” Bonnie agreed, giggling. “But enough about me. You started filming today, right, Sadie? How did that go?”
“Yes, Sadie? How did that go?” Ana teased, mouth quirking with mischief.
“Fine.” Sadie gave her bestie a warning glance. But it was too late, the others had picked up on Ana’s tone.
“Just fine?” Cassie probed. A journalist, her senses were always attuned to potential dirt. She swiped a finger through the salt rimming her glass. “Have you run into any problems on set?”
Sadie stared at her own naked glass. No salt for her, she couldn’t risk getting bloaty. Have there been any problems on set? Hmm. How about having to work with the love of my life? The guy who dumped me eleven years ago without any explanation? But now he’s back and doing things like asking me to trust him and looking all hot and … “Not really, no,” she finally said.
Ana cleared her throat meaningfully.
Sadie ignored her.
“All right, you two,” Cassie said, glancing between them. “What aren’t you telling me? Something is up.” She pinned her reporter’s stare on Sadie. “Is it your costar?”
“Who, Ryan?” Sadie shook her head. “No, why?”
“He’s like almost forty. And yet had zero trouble getting cast as an action hero. Doesn’t that piss you off?”
“It’s the way it is.” Sadie shrugged. “Because he’s a man.”
“Because he’s a man,” Cassie repeated in an angry growl. “Meanwhile, you got all kinds of grief because you’re turning thirty soon.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” Sadie wanted to growl too. Her birthday was on Halloween, which was fast approaching. Thirty. The thought of leaving her twenties scared her enough to be worthy of the holiday. She’d wanted to accomplish so much before that milestone, but had wasted too many years stuck in neutral.
Not anymore, though. Finally, her career was moving in the direction she wanted it to go. She shouldn’t be dreading her birthday, she should be celebrating it. “Maybe I’ll throw a party,” Sadie mused.
“Oh no, I’ll throw the party.” Ana rubbed her hands together. “And since it’s on Halloween, I’m thinking costumes are a must.”
“You just want an excuse to wear your Cinderella dress,” Sadie teased.
“Actually, I just bought a new one,” Ana confessed. “Belle.”
“A costume party would be so much fun!” Bonnie fizzed, and then her face fell. “But I’m going to miss it.”
“No way.” Sadie reached across the table for Bonnie’s hand. “You need to come back for my party. You have to be there.”
“But.” Bonnie hesitated.
“No buts,” Sadie insisted. “I’ll pay for the damn plane tickets; I don’t care. I’m not going to face turning thirty alone. I want all my girls to celebrate with me. And their guys too. Bring Theo.”
“Ooh,” Ana piped up. “You can dress up as Ariel and he can be Prince Eric.” She chuckled. “Count me in on the airfare if I can see that.”
“Where will this grand event take place?” Delaney wondered. “The Waldorf?”
“I dunno,” mused Ana. “That’s where she had her twenty-first, remember?”
“Who can forget?” Delaney snorted. “It was epic.”
“My parents planned that party.” Her father’s position for the elite hotel chain came with lots of perks, including access to luxury suites for slumber parties. Sadie frowned. “But I’m trying to escape the image of spoiled little rich girl, you know?”
“I have an idea.” Ana stuck a chip in the guacamole bowl, swirling it around. “We could have the party on my family’s yacht.”
“Like that doesn’t scream rich and spoiled.” Sadie rolled her eyes.
“Well, I am rich. That’s nothing to be ashamed of; it’s just a fact. And what’s wrong with wanting to spoil my best friend on her birthday?” Ana argued.
“You’re worried about letting your best friend throw you a party on her private yacht.” Delaney shook her head, ponytail swinging. “A champagne problem if I ever heard one.”
“I’ll even do the catering myself,” Ana added. “Consider this my present to you. And you know it’s rude to refuse a present.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Sadie’s mouth. “Fine. If you insist.”
“I do,” Ana said. “I also insist you invite your hot costar.”
“Are you serious?” Sadie laughed. “Ryan’s sweet, but he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“Who cares how sharp his tool is as long as he knows how to use it,” Ana purred, raven eyebrows quivering with mischief.
“Ana!” Sadie chided as her friends erupted into tequila-fueled giggles.
“What?” Ana frowned. “When did you become such a nun?”
“Shut up, I’m not a nun,” Sadie sputtered. “It’s just, that’s my costar you’re talking about.”
“It’s not like you’re married to him. But fine, let’s talk about someone else,” Ana said agreeably.
Too agreeably. Sadie’s neck prickled.
“Let’s talk about Bo.”
Crap. Well, she walked right into that one.
“Wait. As in your first boyfriend Bo?” Delaney demanded. “The Bo?”
“The I-lost-my-virginity-to-him-at-fifteen Bo?” Cassie asked.
“The I-puked-giving-him-a-blow-job Bo?” Bonnie added.
“I wasn’t fifteen, I was sixteen,” Sadie muttered, sinking lower in the booth. Usually, nothing embarrassed her, but right now she wished she could disappear into the cracked vinyl.
“But you did puke, right?” Bonnie asked. “I am remembering that part of the story correctly?”
“Yes, I puked. Ugh. Why are we talking about this?” She felt like puking right now.
“Yeah, why are we talking about this?” Delaney echoed.
“Because the Bo is currently Sadie’s stunt coordinator,” Ana announced.
“What?”
All heads swiveled to Sadie.
“It’s true.” She slunk lower. Any farther and her chin would be resting on the table. “I haven’t seen him since I was eighteen. When he broke up with me at prom,” she blurted.
“He broke up with you on prom night?” Delaney sputtered.
A bitter laugh escaped Sadie. “Yep. He dumped me in the middle of prom. Didn’t even attempt to ease the blow with some line about being friends, just told me we should never see each other again.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell us about this?” Cassie demanded.
“It’s not really something I like to talk about.” Sadie forced her voice to remain neutral and struggled to keep her mind from drifting to other things she refused to talk about. “The point is, I took him at his word. I never looked him up, never checked in on how he was doing.”
“Never?” Cassie asked, doubtful.
“Never.” Sadie was firm. She sat up straighter, frustration giving her str
ength. “For the past eleven years, I’ve done everything I could to avoid him, even staying away from my own grandma’s home. I’ve never done a search for him on social media or anything. I was shocked to find out he was working on the film. I had no idea he’d gotten involved in stunt work. But…” she glanced at Ana, “… after our bike ride yesterday, I did a deep dive on the internet.”
“Oh!” Bonnie leaned forward. “That’s how I learned Theo was a duke.”
“Bo is definitely not a duke,” Sadie assured her.
“Well?” Ana prodded, one brow quirked. “Find anything interesting?”
“Does he have a criminal record?” Delaney wondered.
“Embarrassing viral videos?” Cassie suggested.
“Is he married?” Bonnie asked.
“None of the above.” Sadie shook her head, laughing.
The redhead grinned at her, freckles bunching playfully. “Then it can’t be that bad. Besides”—Bonnie reached across the table again, and this time she was the one to take Sadie’s hand—“if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last few months, it’s that the past is prologue.”
“Huh?” Sadie gave her friend a bit of side-eye. “Are you quoting Shakespeare?’
“When isn’t she?” Cassie snorted.
“When she’s busy quoting some other dead guy,” Delaney quipped.
Cassie laughed with appreciation and high-fived Delaney.
“Make fun of me all you want, but it’s true.” Bonnie glowered at the two of them in annoyance before turning back to Sadie. “What happened with Gabe taught me it’s important to remember your past is part of you. It sets the stage for what’s to come. You can start a new chapter, or even a new book—but the things you’ve done, the people you’ve loved, are all part of your story, you can’t change that.” Bonnie gave Sadie an empathetic squeeze. “Bo was part of your past. Like it or not, now he’s part of your present.”
Sadie squeezed back. Her friend’s words hit closer to home than she knew.
The question now, the one that niggled way in the back of her brain and tugged on the far corner of her heart, was, could he be part of her future?
CHAPTER 8
“LET ME GET this straight. You want me to jump through a glass window?” Sadie stared at Bo, wondering if he’d lost his mind.
“No, I want your stunt double to jump through a glass window.” Bo pointed to the platform soaring above their heads, where a woman, dressed in the same outfit as Sadie, stood waiting. “You just have to watch.” Bo crossed his arms over his chest.
Sadie was watching, all right. Her eyes followed the movement of his arms, latching onto the swell of muscle bunching beneath his skin. The polo shirt he wore stretched tight across his chest, the short sleeves hugging his biceps in that way she’d always found irresistible. God, why did she have to be such a sucker for arm porn?
It was like he had giant magnets hidden in his biceps, making it impossible for her to stop staring. Sadie swallowed hard and shifted her gaze, studying the logo of the stunt company embroidered over one sculpted pec. “And then what?”
“And then you’ll jump.”
“What?”
“Through paper, not glass.” He leaned closer, speaking low so only she could hear. “Trust me, remember?”
His breath tickled the side of her neck, and Sadie fought off a shiver. Same as the first day of filming, when he’d stood behind her and whispered in her ear, tension hummed between them. Did Bo feel it too?
If he did, he didn’t show it. But they were on set, surrounded by cast and crew. She needed to remain professional, which meant one: not lusting after her stunt coordinator, and two: not doubting the abilities of said stunt coordinator.
Or at least not let any of that show—the lust or the doubt.
She watched Bo climb the ladder to the platform. Shit, that was really high. While he reviewed the scene with Emily, her stunt double, Sadie fought to repress the rush of fear building like a tidal wave inside. Her chest felt tight, throat closing as she struggled to get more air in her rapidly shrinking lungs. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths.
“You okay?”
Sadie blinked. Bo had come down from the platform and was standing next to her again. She gave him a curt nod as places were called.
Once the cue to start filming was given, Bo bent his head. “Watch what she does,” he said, his voice a quiet command in her ear as Emily took off running. The stuntwoman hit her mark and leapt into the air, twisting her body so her shoulder made contact first. The breakaway glass shattered, and she burst through to the other side, curling into a ball, head tucked, chin against her chest as she hurtled toward the ground, hitting the crash mat in a smooth roll.
It was over in seconds.
On Bo’s signal, the crew went into motion, cleaning up the glass and resetting the window. “Now it’s your turn.”
Sure enough, in place of the breakaway glass, a large piece of thin blue paper was being fitted into the window frame.
Bo pulled Sadie over to Sylvia’s observation deck and pointed at one of the monitors.
Emily joined them as they reviewed the footage. “What do you think?”
“Perfect.” Bo flashed Sadie’s stunt double a grin. “You were great, Em.”
Jealousy ripped through Sadie, a hook with wickedly sharp barbs scoring her heart.
“Sadie,” Bo called, turning to her.
“What?” she snapped.
“Are you paying attention?”
“Yes.” She was definitely paying attention to how he was paying attention to Em.
Sadie needed to get a grip, fast. Jealousy was not her style. And her stunt double hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet Sadie was ready to tear Emily’s hair out, even if it was a wig designed to match her own.
“You better be,” Bo warned. “You may not be jumping through glass, but there’s still a level of risk.” He pointed at the screen replaying Emily’s jump. “See how she uses her shoulder? You want that to be your first point of contact.” He paused the replay and looked at Sadie. “If you don’t want to do the fall, we can just film you coming through the window.
“I think we’ll get a better take with the full jump and roll, though,” Sylvia interjected, cocking her head at Sadie. “What do you say, MG?”
Sadie swallowed, glancing at Bo.
“I agree with Sylvia,” he said, before she had to ask. “The full run would play better on camera.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Sadie said, voice brittle, despite her attempt to sound confident.
Bo narrowed his eyes, studying her. “How about you go through a few practice runs with Emily first?”
“How about you mind your own business?” she snapped, marching toward the ladder.
“You are my business,” he snapped right back.
She whipped around to stare at him
“This. This is my business,” he amended. Clearing his throat, Bo stepped past her. “If you insist that you’re ready, then come on. The gag is all set,” Bo said, gesturing for her to follow him.
Gag. The slang term for a stunt was quite appropriate. Because that’s exactly what she wanted to do right now. Sadie swallowed bile and forced herself to climb up the ladder behind Bo, too nervous to appreciate the up-close-and-personal view of his tight, jean-clad ass. Nausea churned with each step, her feet heavy, her head empty. All the blood in her brain seemed to be pooling in her boots.
Did she look as pale as she felt? Probably not, since she was in full makeup. Reaching the top of the ladder, Sadie inched onto the platform. Her legs felt like strands of dry spaghetti, ready to snap.
“You sure you don’t want to run through it with me?” Bo asked, watching her closely.
If she’d thought he was mocking her, Sadie probably would have told him to shove it. But his voice was soft, tinged with genuine concern. She nodded. “Maybe once.”
“Okay.” He grinned, mouth curving with the tinie
st hint of roguish smugness. “Once.”
As he walked her through the gag, Sadie pictured the face she’d last seen in the mirror before being called to the set. The face of Jamie. A rebel. Fierce. Resolute. Brave. She didn’t feel any of those things right now, but if she focused on channeling Jamie, maybe she could.
“We won’t start until you give the signal, understand?”
She nodded again, feeling oddly detached from her body.
“I’ll be right over there,” he promised, indicating a spot off to the side.
Numbly, Sadie looked to where Bo pointed and nodded. It was well within her line of vision; she’d be able to see him the whole time.
“Abeja,” he whispered, “nothing happens until you’re ready.”
Abeja. Her heart flared to life. How long had it been since Bo had called her that? His nickname for her, strange and yet achingly familiar, broke through the haze that had settled around Sadie. She nodded again, this time with more conviction. Then she sucked in a breath, holding it down deep inside.
She would not show fear. She would not panic. She was not Sadie. She was Jamie. She didn’t feel faint while riding an escalator or cringe at the thought of climbing a ladder. Sadie exhaled and clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. The needling pain grounded her, gave her enough of a toehold to keep from falling into the abyss of terror that was waiting for her, if only she let go.
But she would not let go. Slowly, she relaxed her fist, uncurling her fingers one by one. As each finger released, she chanted under her breath. One finger. You are in control. Two. You are in charge. Three. You call the shots. Four. You can do this. Five. You will do this.
Shaking out her left hand, she took a deep breath and repeated the process on the right. Again, with each command, a finger relaxed, and she stepped a little further into the skin of her character. By the time the last words faded from her lips, shaking out her right hand, she was Jamie. And Jamie was ready.
Double-checking her position on the platform, Sadie took her mark. The hum of activity around her dimmed, and she turned to Bo, eyes locking on his. His gaze never left her face as he waited for her signal.
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