Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
The compliment hits about ten nerves. I’m programmed to feel his words as insecurity. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have said them to me and dated everyone else. “Stop telling me I look beautiful.”
“Why? I mean it.”
I swallow hard. “I am not ready to do this with you.”
“And yet your text—”
“Didn’t mean I was ready. What if people think I slept my way to this TV show?”
“Your ratings say you didn’t, and you can’t be a TV star and allow yourself to think about other people’s judgements.”
“Isn’t that the definition of ratings?” I counter.
“Ratings are a definition of success. Let me take you to dinner. If we don’t act like we’re a couple, it’ll look like a studio meeting. And I made reservations at that little Italian place again. They have a private room, and anticipating your second thoughts, I asked them to put us there. Say yes, Alana.”
It’s right then that Delilah appears beside us. “Mr. West, good to see you again so soon.” Delilah is brunette and in her forties, which I know because we all celebrated her forty-fifth on set. She’s professional despite her uniform of jeans and T-shirt. She’s also a no-nonsense, hard-ass director, but fair, and she manages to pull things out of me I don’t know are there. For that, I appreciate her greatly.
She looks between Damion and me. “I had no idea you two knew each other.”
And here we go, I think, glancing at Damion, who throws the ball right back to me with an arch of his eyebrow. This was coming. I might as well just dive in with the truth. “We’ve known each other most of our lives,” I explain. “We grew up next door neighbors.” I glance at Damion, and yes, there is accusation in the question that follows. “I didn’t realize you were involved enough with the show to know Delilah?”
Amusement lights his eyes. “I just met her when I arrived on set an hour ago,” he replies, lifting a hand to Delilah. “Your director was kind enough to give me a set tour while you were, I believe, having a snack.”
I bristle and almost say, “You know I have low blood sugar,” but catch myself because that would be a silly, intimate, highly misplaced, and defensive comment. “I see,” is all I say.
“It was a delight to have someone from the board show interest in our little ol’ show,” Delilah says. “Even if your history with Alana brought you here, I hope you were impressed with our work.”
“I am,” Damion states. “And I believe I’ll be handy at producing quality advertisers to support the show. I also noticed you’re good at getting Alana to relax.” He gives me a glance. “She has a hard time with that. Even when we were kids, she had a hard time with that. If one color was missing from the coloring box, it was a crisis.”
I grimace at him. “Really?”
“It’s the truth,” he says. “You’re high strung.”
“I’ll bite my tongue, but just barely, since you’re apparently my boss now,” I say.
Delilah laughs. “Okay, I’ll let you two catch up. Then no one has to bite anyone’s tongue.” She grimaces. “Especially since that sounds painful.” She taps my arm. “Again, good stuff today. We’re going to end this season with a bang. I’ll see you on location in the morning.” She waves at Damion. “Good night.”
She walks away and Damion says, “Still waiting on my answer.”
I refocus on him. “To which question?”
“All of them, but I’ll start with dinner. I’m starving.” His eyes burn into me with those words. “How about you?”
“I’ll go to dinner with you, Damion, but no couple stuff. Not yet.”
His eyes light. “That’s not a no. I’ll take it.”
The way he says “take” has my belly doing a flip flop and my nipples puckering. Lord, help me, I’m in trouble and there’s no lifeboat in sight. Not even my own good sense, apparently, because I am far from cutting him off or shutting him down.
“I need to get my things,” I say. “There’s a side exit if you want to just go with me.”
“I already had the car pull up in that direction. I wasn’t going to let you get away tonight.”
We head toward the dressing room, and my nerves are playing the piano in my head and my belly. I try to reason with myself about this being Damion, just Damion, who I have known all my life, but that ship sailed ten years ago. Back when I left his place in another woman’s clothes with an unread note in my bag. He’s my drug, and I know it. The problem is that I think he knows it, too.
We both know I’m going to say yes to his favor.
But I need boundaries and rules.
Therefore, that is the theme for the night—boundaries and rules.