Dinner is amazing.
We go to some insanely expensive place with a name I can’t pronounce and eat next to nothing because the portions are so small.
But that doesn’t matter.
I can’t help feeling flattered by the fact that Luke chose to sit next to me and seems to want to know everything. He asks loads of questions and really listens to the answers.
Most people in this industry spend so much time talking about themselves they never spare a second to ask about me.
I tell him about Olivia and Jeremy, and my long distance relationship with Kaden. He makes the connection that Kaden is the reclusive billionaire that Melinda was just good friends with.
I didn’t realize how much I’d wanted to share all those stories until now and it felt good to get it all out.
We were having such a good time that when Luke suggested sharing a cab, I agree without even thinking.
I give the driver my address and sit back next to Luke, feeling a little tipsy.
“So tell me about the series you made in England?” he says, turning in his seat so he’s facing me.
“Sexy thriller slash suspense drama,” I reply. “It was set in London, a female serial killer was reenacting the murders of Jack the Ripper on Men. That was the twist. But the real story was the erotic cat and mouse interplay between the hardened Detective Jack Slater and the killer Miriam Ross. It’s what got me this job, in fact. Apparently I can make even the darkest themes sexy.”
He’s smiling at me in a way that makes my pulse race again.
“What?” I ask, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
“Nothing,” he says. “You get this look in your eyes when you’re talking about your work. Not many people honestly love what they do.”
“Don’t you love what you do?”
He shrugs. “I don’t hate it. But it’s not like I can do anything else.”
His answer intrigues me and I frown, tipping my head to the side.
“I know, I know,” he says before I can comment. “I have everything. Fame, money… Why would I need anything else?” He sighs. “When I try to explain, it always seems to come out wrong. I like acting but…”
“No, I understand,” I say, looking at him wide-eyed because I do understand.
I tell him about the first business I started and how lost I felt after I sold it for a lot of money.
How I had everything but still felt lost and unfulfilled and he nodded, his own eyes widening as he saw that I really did understand how he felt.
“Do you know what you’d like to do? What are you passionate about?”
He thinks about that. “I don’t know. I think I’d sort of like to work more behind the scenes. Scriptwriting maybe. I used to love writing stories when I was a kid.”
“What’s stopping you?” I reach out and grab his hand. “You’re Luke Hart. After this project, take a year off and write. You know the industry and you know what works.”
He leans closer. “You really think I could?”
The cab pulls up outside my apartment building and I feel disappointed that the night is over.
“This was really fun,” I say. “I’m glad I had a chance to get to know you a bit. Behind all the tabloids, there’s actually a pretty nice guy.”
He gives me a wicked smile and crosses his heart. “I swear, I’m not.”
Giggling, I turn away to hide my flush and clamber out of the back seat.
I walk on shaky legs to the security door but turn when Luke calls my name.
“You forgot your scarf,” he says, holding up my red scarf and waving it like a flag.
That’s weird.
I thought I’d left it in the office.
“Thank you,” I walk back and take it from his hand. Our fingers brush and my stomach jumps.
But before he can get back into the cab it suddenly screeches to life and speeds off.
“What the hell!” Luke yells, waving his hands above his head, trying to get the driver’s attention again. “I asked him to wait. Told him I’d just be a second.”
He pulls out his phone and sighs.
“And my phone’s out. I was supposed to charge it this morning.”
He looks at me and makes a face.
“I’m sorry. Do you think I could just quickly call a cab? I know it’s been a long day. I’ll be in and out so fast you won’t even know I was there.”
I can’t help laughing. “Of course you can.”
I unlock the security door and we have to take the stairs since the elevator is still out.
“I share this apartment with my friend, Olivia,” I say as we climb the steps ,“Neither of us are ever in town for more than a few months so it just makes sense to share. Plus it offers us more chances to catch up. We share this one here in LA and one in New York.”
“I always wanted to live in New York,” he says.
“Sometimes at night, I could swear I hear its heartbeat. There’s nowhere like it on Earth. Only London is a close second.”
Once inside, I throw my bag and scarf in the closet. “Do you want a coffee before you call another cab?”
He says yes and follows me into the kitchen. I turn to ask what kind he’d like and gasp at how close he’s standing.
“H - how do you take it?” I stutter.
He looks down at me, his eyes darker, his expression unreadable. “Hot. Sweet.”
He steps closer.
I step back.
“You didn’t invite me in for coffee and we both know it.”
His voice is low and soft, smooth like chocolate.
I back up a step.
“I didn’t invite you in at all,” I say but I can feel my face flushing and my heart pumping faster.
The alcohol is making my brain fuzzy.
There’s a very good reason why I shouldn’t be alone in my apartment with this man.
But for the life of me I can’t remember what that reason is…