“I may not be famous, but I made it big too, you know? I’m a female surgeon. I treat most of the professional athletes around here…”
“Of course I know.” This time his lips tickled my cheek. “They will make assumptions and create lies. I just don’t want you to take any of it personally. It’s not unrealistic that they will also find out you operated on me. I’m prepared to take the fall and say I sought you out—which is the truth.”
My mouth found his. I didn’t know how to answer—truthfully, I was stuck on the relationship part. Our lips mashed, tongues clashing for a while until I broke free.
“I’m fine with any of it. Genie will eat it up. She’ll probably decorate my personal office with anything written about me. The only part that sucks is my parents. I assume I should warn them, even though we don’t talk much.”
His hand came around the nape of my neck and I looked up at him. “Probably. They will likely bother them too. Blame Ryan. He brings the heat everywhere he goes—”
“I could never be mad at Ryan,” I joked.
“Exactly, that’s how he gets away with all that he does.Lucky bloke.”
After the air was cleared, we got back to kissing, eventually making our way to the bedroom, temporarily forgetting the paparazzi.
Daniel
Safely tucked inside The Country Club, I let my hand find a perch at Wren’s lower back. Of course Ryan had invited her to the location scout, and since it was on Friday afternoon, she was able to come.
“Thanks for making this work,” Ryan told Peter, shaking his hand.
“It’s offseason, and the club is very quiet. Valet will let me know if anyone arrives. We shouldn’t have any unexpected visitors.”
Ryan’s bodyguard, Jerry, who didn’t go everywhere but was here in case the paps arrived, nodded.
“You already know Danny here, our star, and this is Birdie…”
“You mean, Wren,” Jerry corrected his boss. He’d only met Wren this morning, doling out his thanks for the ski situation. Of course Jerry had been on the ski trip and had warned Ryan. And when I got hurt, he’d been furious.
Although the real star was Peter—he didn’t miss a beat, picking up on Wren’s nickname, looking right at her. “Oh I know Wren. I’ve been intimately involved with her stroke.”
Slipping him the side-eye, I added, “She’s one hundred percent under my tutelage now.”
Ryan, my savior, redirected the afternoon. “Okay fellas, where should we start?”
“We need certain golf shots,” said Mandy, one of the studio people. The creative director, or whatever her title was. “We are using this for our outdoor shots for the US Open, where our main character makes a stunning comeback. Daniel, do you have ideas?” Mandy looked at me to finish.
“Since we are looking to film in the next month, we can improvise with CGI when it comes to weather and/or color of grass,” Ryan added.
“I think the first hole, and maybe something in the middle, and the last. Honestly, I don’t know shite, but you asked me…”
“No, you’re right. Let’s see the course,” Ryan said.
Mandy was busy taking notes and pictures.
“This way,” Peter said, leading us to a few golf carts.
Boston gifted us with another mild day as we drove the course and scoped out a few scenes.
“No double taking your shots?” Peter asked me, winking.
“Did you study theater at UCLA?” Laughter rang through my question. “Considering I taught you a lot of your tricks, you should know better,” I added.
Peter put his hand on my back. “I do owe you a lot,” he admitted.
We both knew our zings were all in good fun, but Ryan chirped in with, “We got Danny for a reason. Wanted the real thing.”
On that note, we finished up, Wren taking an interest in whatever Mandy was orchestrating until we returned to the clubhouse and she fastened herself next to me.
