He narrowed his eyes, and for the first time, I noticed he wasn’t wearing a suit. He had on blue plaid pajama pants and a black Ramones T-shirt. I found it oddly sexy before I girded myself with memories of the previous night. No way in hell was I making that mistakeagain.
“Withinreason.”
I could fix anything with a large enough budget. And emotional actors could always be persuaded with enough space, free food, and easy access for complaint. “Okay, then I think I can spinit.”
I held my hand out. “I need yourphone.”
He didn’t hesitate, simply pulled it from his pocket and slapped it into my opengrasp.
I dialed the only number I knew that could help in thissituation.
“Pierre,” A pause. “Yes, I know what time it is. Don’t worry, it will be worth your while. I need you at the theater as soon aspossible.”
He mumbled something in French that I wasn’t good enough to catch. “Juuuust getthere.”
I hung up and handed the phoneback.
“Friend ofyours?”
I shrugged and sat back into the leather with a sigh. We stopped outside the theater with a jerk, and I got out as Michael reached the door again. “Too slow Mikey. Gotta keepup.”
He laughed and said something I didn’t catch as I raced inside and up to my office. Gray followed, close on myheels.
“Stop flirting with mydriver.”
I threw myself into the chair behind my desk and shuffled papers around for the list of the cast members’ contact information. “What, are you jealous,Gray?”
He sat on the edge of the worn brown leather club chair across from the desk and surveyed the organized chaos before answering. “Yes,actually.”
I snorted and gave him a look. It said “really?”
He looked sheepish for a moment, his eyes saying, “I know I screwed itup.”
We didn’t have the conversation, but I knew it was coming if I didn’t do something to stopit.
I tossed the paper across the desk and it floated down to graze his knee before sinking to the floor. He picked it up. “What do you want me to do withthis?”
“Start making calls. Those actors will respond more nicely to you than to me changing up the rehearsalschedule.”
To his credit, he flipped his phone over in his hand and was about to dial. “Wait, what do I tellthem?”
I took a deep breath and sat back, blowing the air out my nose in one long exhale. “Tell them the renovations are running long, and you don’t want their creative genius influenced by the chaos of the theater. We are moving rehearsals to studio space for the timebeing.”
“And what if we don’t get it fixed in time for theperformance?”
“I have a plan for thattoo.”
He shook his head and dialed the first number. I checked the clock. 5 AM. I needed coffee like I neededoxygen.
Instead of hunting down my assistant this early, I gathered myself up and headed toward the door, absolutely not looking at Gray as Ipassed.
“Where are you going?” he asked, covering the bottom of the phone with hishand.
I opened the door and stepped out. “Coffee.” Then closed it before he couldrespond.
Being near him now messed with my head. Both the memory of the smooth charming operator and the awed lover took up space in my brain, and I couldn’t place him in one single category that would satisfy me. Employer. Boss. Man who pays my salary. Those were good solid categories I should stick with. The memory of his dick in my mouth made it hard to keep him contained in that tiny very economical boxthough.
I walked to my favorite corner cafe and ordered an espresso. The lady handed it over and when I tried to pay, she shook her head and answered my quizzical look in broken English. “Was paid for. You have atab.”
