Clover surprises me when she says, “Is there something I can do next time if it happens when I’m around?”
I don’t tell her, but her asking that means more to me than I can admit.
“Hopefully it doesn’t happen again, but on the off chance it does, help her focus on her breathing. Stay with her, and make sure she’s not somewhere where other people can watch her and make her feel worse.”
“You guys seem really close,” she says with a wistful smile.
“We are.” It’s with a twinge of embarrassment that I realize I know next to nothing about her life outside of work. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No, just me and my parents. And Smokey,” she adds with a laugh. “They’re back in Boulder.”
“When did you come out to LA?”
“A couple of years ago. I did an acting program at the community college near home and then figured I’d give it a go out here for a bit.”
I listen intently as she talks, wondering what it would be like to start at the bottom in this industry. My last name ensured that would never be my situation.
“If this role hadn’t come up, I was probably a couple of months away from having to pack it in and head home,” she admits.
Her words summon a memory I’d stuffed down these last few weeks. Of what I asked the legal team to do for the franchise casting agreement. A hot wave of shame rolls through me, but Clover doesn’t seem to notice and keeps chatting away about the various commercials she’s done. At least I think that’s what she’s going on about, I can’t focus.
The burning sense of guilt sits heavy in my stomach, distracting me. Asking the legal team to scrub Clover’s role from future movies in the franchise was fucking petty of me. Reckless, selfish, and downright mean. A part of me wants to shrivel up knowing that I’ve done something so cruel.
What I did was careless and stupid, and I need to fix it. I make a mental vow to iron it out as soon as possible before turning back to Clover.
“You mean casting agents weren’t breaking down your door after your starring role in the eczema ad?”
“Shut up.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
ROMAN
Afew hours later when we pull up to the hotel, I’m surprised at how fast the last bit of the drive went. It felt like I blinked and suddenly it was over.
“Remember, any time we’re not in our room, we have to be ‘on’,” I caution.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Just reminding you so you don’t give me shit for what I’m about to do.” I hop out of the car and open her door. I can practically see her eyes twitching with the restraint it takes not to roll them. Holding out my hand, I help her out of the car. Instead of letting it go, I clasp onto it.
The valet comes and I give them the keys and our names so that our bags can be brought up to our room. When we reach the lobby, Clover walks around, taking in all the decor and appreciating the rolling green hills and vineyard showcased by the large windows of the rustic, luxurious hotel.
“Here’s the key to your room,” the hotel employee at the desk smiles and hands the card over.
Clover is still staring out at the hills when I approach her from behind, placing my hands on her hips and holding herthere for a moment. I could be imagining things, but I feel her shiver slightly.
“I have the key. Ready to go up?”
“Definitely. How long do we have before our vineyard tour?”
I look down at my Rolex. “An hour and a half.”
She nods and steps out of my hold, heading toward the elevator.
When the door to the room opens, a beautiful suite unfolds before us. With rich brown hardwood floors and cream walls, the living room space is filled with furniture that looks like it was created with nights of conversation over glasses of wine in mind. It’s cozy and luxuriously soft, with various red blankets and throw pillows decorating the seats.
Clover steps in, her eyes wide and her plush lips slightly parted in awe before she goes to explore. I doubt she’s ever stayed somewhere like this before, and it’s kind of fun to see how she reacts to it. There’s a small kitchen with the most up-to-date appliances off to the right, and a dining room that was designed for dinner parties—the likes of which we certainly won’t be having—but it’s beautiful, nonetheless.
