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“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” With a soft snort, she stepped out of the way so I could get past her, something I was eager to do. There was only so long I could stand being in the presence of the heartless bitch.
5
JACKSON
“Oh. You’re here.”
The statement made me look up from the table spread across half a row of seats several rows back from the stage. The lights trained on the laptops and papers scattered across it made me squint to adjust my vision in the otherwise dim theater. The lighting crew was running through a series of cues, which meant the house lights had to be lowered to get the full effect on stage.
But I knew the voice—husky and warm, though at the moment tinged with surprise and disappointment? “Of course I’m here,” I replied to Winter, who stood in the aisle with a paper cup in one hand and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a loose top over leggings, clearly ready to guide the auditioning performers through the combination she’d put together.
She looked fantastic, even better than she had in her polished, professional outfits. Now, she was really the Winter I remembered—ready to work and pour all of herself into what she loved most. I understood this was one of the things that had drawn me to her from the beginning, even more than her classic beauty—her single-minded focus on perfection.
She wasn’t doing me any favors, though. I looked down at the lighting grid displayed on one of the laptop screens as if I gave a damn while in her overwhelming presence. “There’s a lot of work to do. Why wouldn’t I be here?” I asked. “Or have you forgotten how hands-on I like to be?”
“I don’t remember ever seeing you around this early in the process.” My breath caught as she drew nearer. The sweet, floral perfume clinging to her clothes did terrible things to my libido. My cock betrayed me, insisting on waking up to see what was happening. Down, boy. I shuffled some papers, angling my body away from her. I was like a teenage boy being called to the front of the class by the hot teacher, terrified that everyone would notice what she did to me.
“Times have changed,” I murmured, putting on the headset which was waiting for me so I could communicate with the tech crew hard at work. “Ready for a long day?”
A glimpse of her face showed hesitation, but it passed quickly. She left her bag on the floor before taking a seat only a few feet from where I stood, then gulping her latte. “Now that my internal clock has finally gotten on track? Maybe.” She sighed.
“It’s a big adjustment,” I mused. An adjustment she wouldn’t have had to make if she hadn’t left. What was it with me? I had my faults and was willing to admit them, but pettiness had never been one. At least, not that I was aware of.
“Where’s Harrison?” she asked, referring to the director with whom I’d worked on several projects in the past. He was the only person in town I trusted with something this consequential. Now that Mom wanted my head on a platter for making this decision without her, it was more important than ever to prove my instincts were solid.
“He’s working with the lighting guys right now. But don’t worry,” I assured her, glancing her way and regretting it when she licked a bit of foam from the corner of her mouth. Those lips. That tongue. It was almost crippling, the wave of longing that rolled over me and nearly took out my knees. I need to get laid.
“Who’s worried?” There was that casual confidence. “Either way, I make final decisions on who gets a role. He understands that, and so do you,” she added.
I couldn’t bite back a grin, which, naturally, she noticed. “What? Did I say something funny?”
“It’s just your penchant for beating a dead horse,” I admitted, chuckling harder when she scowled. “Lighten up. Yes, you make all final decisions on who gets a role. That point was settled already.”
“Just making sure. You wouldn’t be the first person in this business ever to change his mind at the last second.”
The way she had changed her mind at the last second and run off without a word? If I couldn’t get a hold of my inner thoughts, I was in more trouble than I thought. I was a grown man, not some newcomer to the business or women, for that matter. I needed to start acting like this wasn’t my first rodeo.
She tried and failed to stifle a yawn, finally covering her mouth with her hand before releasing a sigh. “Late night?” I asked.
“Kind of.”
I waited in vain for more, watching her, trying and probably failing to look only mildly interested as jealousy rolled over me. All I could do was imagine her with this Liam guy, whoever the hell he was. I have asked if I thought I’d get anything close to a straight answer, but something told me it would have been a waste of time. I could only wonder and seethe quietly at the idea of her walking away from me so casually and easily and hooking up with some random guy.
Who am I kidding? Probably much more than one over the course of four years. It wasn’t like I’d held myself to a single woman.
“Okay, the clock is ticking.” She stood with her usual grace and, holy fuck, started stretching. Gently lifting her arms, then swinging them back so her hands touched behind her and her chest thrust outward. “I already talked everything over with Harrison.”
“Harrison?” I parroted, too busy staring at her tits.
“The director I literally just asked about?” She rolled her eyes with a snicker. “Most of my dancers are in town now, at least those who were already planning on making the trip over. Everyone is coming in today to look at the new people, give feedback where necessary, and get familiar with the space before starting rehearsals next week.”
“Oh, so you collaborate with them? You accept their opinions?” I asked with a grin.
She gave me a withering look. “When I’m asking a guy to lift a girl, it’s sort of nice if he gets a look at the girl. And chemistry has a lot to do with it too. Do they get along? Can they work together?”
Chemistry. That word kept coming up. I couldn’t avoid it any more than I could avoid the desire to see if her skin was still as soft as it used to be. It looked that way—gleaming like a pearl—but I was a very hands-on sort of guy. I liked to know these things for myself.
“Yes, we’d better both get started.” Otherwise, I might do something unforgivably stupid, like take her in my arms and threaten not to let go until she told me flat-out why she left and what I did. It wouldn’t change a damn thing, but I had to know.
