“So you haven’t worked in television before?” Laney swirled the clear liquid of her martini before taking a sip.

How someone could drink a martini at one in the afternoon was beyond me, but this was LA.

“I’m afraid I haven’t. I’m sorry if Jett led you to believe otherwise.”

“No, he didn’t say that at all. I just assumed, since he was recommending you so highly.”

He was recommending me because he wants to get into my pants. He wants me to owe him a favor.

“It’s so kind of him to speak highly of me, but we really don’t know each other that well. We only met recently. But I do believe my work will speak for itself. I have some screenplays you could read, although they’re feature-length.”

“But none of them have been sold?”

“I’ve come close a few times, but unfortunately, no.”

“That’s perfectly all right. I believe in giving new talent a chance. After all, we all started at the bottom. Even the great Jett Draconis himself.” She smiled.

“That’s so kind of you. I appreciate you taking a look.”

“Did you bring anything with you?”

“Of course. I always come prepared.” I picked up the messenger bag that sat at my feet and pulled out two scripts that I considered to be my best work. “One of these is a romantic comedy, the other a drama. Jett told me your new project has a paranormal aspect. I’m afraid I don’t have anything paranormal to share with you, but I do enjoy the genre and would love to have the chance to write something.” So that was a little white lie. I had no familiarity with the genre, but as of today, I’d start scanning Netflix for good paranormal television shows to binge watch.

After all, I was a trained writer. I could learn to write anything.

I couldn’t help smiling to myself at the thought. My conversation with Jett had been enlightening. I’d had no idea that he had a classical background and that opera was his first love. He had an amazing and hypnotizing rock and roll voice. Anyone who heard him in concert would think rock and roll was his true calling. But he’d gone where he thought he could sing for a living, and he’d found success.

Truthfully, the rocker hadn’t been out of my mind since I laid eyes on him the night before. Of course, I had an intense physical attraction to him. What woman wouldn’t? But after talking to him, if only for a short time, I’d felt a more intimate connection. The kisses we’d shared…

He had no idea how difficult it had been for me to leave that limo.

“…with a darker flare.”

Crap. Laney had been talking to me, and I’d missed most of what she had said because I’ve been daydreaming about a rock star.

I cleared my throat. “Pardon me?”

She took another sip of her drink. “I’m looking for something like Buffy the Vampire Slayer or True Blood, but with a darker flare.”

I’d never watched either of those, but at least I’d heard of them.

“Not a lot of humor. A little would be okay, but mostly drama. I want to tackle some significant issues relating to violence.”

“I see. Can you elaborate a bit?”

“I can, but I have a whole premise written up. I think it might be better for you to read that first. May I email it to you?”

“Of course.” I pulled a business card out of my messenger bag and handed it to her. “My email and phone number are on there.”

The waiter arrived with our lunches. I cut a bite off my chicken breast and had it halfway to my mouth when I stopped, frozen.

Heading toward us, wearing old beat-up jeans and a tank top, his dark hair pulled back—looking even more delicious than he had in his limo last night—was none other than Jett Draconis.

This was clearly the laid-back Jett, and oh boy, could he pull it off.

I zeroed in on his full lips first. They had just a touch of shine to them, making them irresistible. Then I slid my gaze to his upper arms. Not many guys could work a black wifebeater, but this one could. His shoulders were broad and muscled, his skin a light bronze, and on his left upper arm was a glorious tattoo. It wasn’t a phoenix, for his band, or even a dragon, given his surname. No. It was a Celtic lion done all in black.

And because it wasn’t expected, it was perfect.

His arms were magnificently sculpted with muscles and sinew. Even his hands were good-looking, with long, thick fingers and perfectly shaped square fingernails. Sculpted abs pressed through the tank, and his thighs…

Oddly, I hadn’t visually assessed him in this manner last night. I’d concentrated on his face and hair. His face was magnificent no matter what, and right now his hair was pulled back. In the light of day, it was impossible not to notice everything about him. I scanned down his jeans to his feet, clad in basic flip-flops. My God, the man even had beautiful feet.

How was it possible for a person to be so glorious to look at and listen to at the same time?

The universe had been kind to this one. He was gifted with so much. Did he know how lucky he was?

He sauntered up to our table as if he belonged there. “Hey, ladies.”

“Jett!” Laney’s eyes glowed. “We were actually just talking about you.”

Had we been? She had said Jett spoke highly of me. That hardly constituted “talking about him.”

“Were you?” He smiled, obviously going into flirtation mode.

“We were. Please, join us,” Laney cooed.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Instead of sitting next to Laney, he took the seat next to me. “Hey there, Heather.”

“Hi,” was all I could get out.

“How’s everything going?”

“Oh…fine.”

“Isn’t Laney the best?”

“Yes, she’s great.” I’d known her for about five minutes, but what else could I say?

“You’re such a sweet talker, Jett,” Laney said.

Then I saw it in her eyes—that indescribable look that said “Yes, I’ve fucked him.”

Didn’t go over so big with me.

Had this man slept with every woman in LA? I wouldn’t have been surprised.

Laney’s phone buzzed against the table and she picked it up. “I’m so sorry. Could you two excuse me for a minute? I need to take this.”

“Of course,” Jett said.

Laney stood, put the phone to her ear, and left the table.

While I sat twiddling my thumbs.

“Funny running into you here,” Jett said.

“Yes. That is very funny, indeed.”

“You don’t seem amused.”

“You knew I would be here. You gave Laney my name. You knew she would call me this morning.”

“Now that’s a new one. No one’s ever told me I’m clairvoyant before.”

I smiled without meaning to. Damn, he did have a great personality.

That, in conjunction with his intelligence, talent, and godlike looks? How was I supposed to resist him?

“You’re not.”

Oh my God. Had I said that aloud? “I’m not what?”

“What? No, I said, ‘you’re welcome.’”

“Oh.” Just when I thought he was so irresistible. Although I really should have thanked him. “I do appreciate you introducing me to Laney. And I am a polite person. I was getting to thanking you. Most people wait to say ‘you’re welcome’ until after they’re thanked.”

“Sweetheart, I have never in my life been most people.”

There he went with the sweetheart again. Funny, though. I kind of like how it sounded. But the fact that he’d probably called about a thousand other women sweetheart in the last year alone kind of negated it a little.

“So what do you think? About Laney’s project?”

“I don’t really know a lot about it yet. She’s going to send me the premise and proposal via email.”

“Yeah? So she’s interested in you?”

“Only because you gave me such a great talk-up. But I gave her some of my work, and it will speak for itself.”

“I’m sure it’s brilliant.”

“How can you be so sure? None of it has seen the light of day yet.”

“Because, Heather, you’re not a run-of-the-mill screenwriter looking for work. You’re special.”

Special? We’d spent all of half an hour together. Yeah, he was definitely trying to get into my pants. And I was probably going to let him. Problem was, I didn’t want to be one more notch on Jett Draconis’s bedpost. I actually did want to be special. Special to him.

I gave a brief thought to a sarcastic comment, but decided on “That’s nice of you to say.”

Laney came hurrying back. “I am so, so sorry, Heather. I have to go to an impromptu meeting right away. It simply can’t be avoided.” She looked down at her plate of chicken piccata and threw several twenty-dollar bills on the table. “That should cover lunch. Jett, I hope you’re hungry. I didn’t touch this.” Then she turned to me. “I’ve got your card, Heather. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” I gave her the best smile I could.

But I knew a kiss-off when I heard one.

Jett didn’t seem fazed. Nor did he move to Laney’s spot. He simply slid her plate in front of him. “Good thing I love chicken piccata. It’s great here.” He cut himself a piece.

I’d ordered the same thing, and it was delicious. I continued to eat. I wasn’t really sure what else to do.

A couple of teenage girls clambered over to our table and asked Jett for an autograph. He was gracious, engaging them in a short conversation. I was impressed.

“Does that happen every time you go out?” I asked.

“Not every time, but it’s a good bet.”

“You were really nice to them.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? I’d be nothing without fans.”

“Wow. That’s a great attitude. I wish more celebrities shared it.”

“As I just told you, sweetheart. I’m not most people.”

I was beginning to see that. I really wished he would stop the sweetheart thing though. I had nothing against endearments, but I liked for them to actually mean something.

“So tell me,” he went on. “Why did you choose writing over performing? A beautiful woman like you could make a mint in this business.”

“Seriously? Beautiful women are a dime a dozen here. Plus, my talent isn’t in the performing arts.”

“Starlets these days don’t have to have talent, sweetheart.”

He thought I was special, huh? His words certainly were no indication. “I suppose not. They just have to be willing to sleep their way to the top.” I took my napkin off my lap and set it across my plate of half-finished food. “That’s not who I am. We’re done here.” I stood, grabbed my messenger bag, and walked toward the entryway.