I turned to find Roman looking horrified that his daughter wanted more contact with me. He looked between Junie and me, his brow furrowing as if I’d put a curse on her or something. Or had asked Cassie to do it. But not even Cassie would hex a child. Well . . . maybe a teenager.
Unsure of what to do or say, I turned back around, still reeling. Why was Roman’s daughter dreaming about me? And why did I feel a connection to her? Like a tiny part of myself had just clicked into place. And for the love, why did the goddess within me want me to blurt out that Jazzy should go meet Miles in the conference room? Workplace romance was not advisable. Definitely against the guidebook.
I shoved that side of me down, but I had a sinking feeling that sooner or later she would make her presence known and I wouldn’t be able to stop her.
This was going to be the longest summer of my life.
Chapter IX
Roman
Ipacedaroundthe“Blueprint Room,” where we did the interviews. “Blueprint” was a nod to my being the Architect of Love. Was it cheesy? Yes. But it worked. What wasn’t working was having Demi there. Between Junie’s fascination with her—and apparently mine—this was shaping up to be a disaster.
Not only had I made the asinine comment about her glasses, but I found myself mulling around the wardrobe room unseen, listening to Marcie and Demi discuss her wardrobe for this season. Marcie was convinced Demi was soft and gooey on the inside after witnessing her interaction with Junie.
Admittedly, that had caught me off guard too. In that moment, I’d seen a glimpse of the girl of my dreams. The girl I was sure had only been a figment of my imagination. I’d wanted that girl to exist for a long time, but not now. Not when I couldn’t stand the woman she’d become—the woman who had almost destroyed my career. And not when I was tasked with helping her find love.
Marcie thought Demi’s style should reflect her contradictions—leather and lace, steel jewelry and silk. She said the audience would eat it up.
I don’t need the audience to love me. Only the right person,Demi had commented.
So maybe she wasn’t going to sabotage my show. Was she truly looking for love? Not that she had a choice. This was a quest. Perhaps one she was taking seriously.
Which meant I needed to take my job seriously. Eros had promised me I would have what I desired if I helped his daughter. For that reason, I needed to think of her only as a cast member. I couldn’t think about her mesmerizing eyes or her silky, fiery hair that looked made for fingers to get knotted in.
Damn it.What was I even thinking? This woman and I were enemies for all intents and purposes. And all cast members were off-limits to the crew.
I threw myself into one of the sapphire-blue velvet armchairs in the room. Soon Demi would join me and occupy the one across the “blueprint table.” There, in the glow of the Edison lights, I would ask her personal questions. Invasive questions. She was going to hate me even more than she already did.
And I hated myself for being so curious about how she would answer.
Thankfully, the tech team entered and saved me from myself. They moved with quiet efficiency—adjusting lights, checking mics, calibrating the cameras. One of them handed me a mic pack. Without even thinking, I clipped it to my waistband.
I nodded at one of the camera operators—Jules—who gave me a thumbs-up.
The lighting crew dimmed the overheads and warmed the Edison bulbs. A soft, intimate glow filled the room. I leaned back in the velvet chair, trying to look composed. Trying not to think about how Demi would look under this lighting. How her eyes would catch the gold.
I’d never had a cast member affect me like this. And I sure as hell never thought it would be Demi who did. What was Zeus doing to me? The bastard. Had he done something to my daughter too?
I rubbed my jaw, trying to shake the thought. Surely Eros wouldn’t let his grandfather mess with my daughter. All I knew was the Blueprint Room felt different. Charged, even. Something or someone was at work here.
It didn’t help when Jazzy ushered in Demi, who looked too much like a goddess in a black silk slip of a dress, a steel choker around her elegant neck. Her incredible hair swept up sexily. While she didn’t have the muscular body of a gymnast anymore, she obviously kept in shape and was toned in all the right places.
My only saving grace was that her unnecessary sleek glasses were back on. They were doing a poor job of hiding her intoxicating eyes, but at least her gaze wasn’t hitting me full force like it had in the lobby. I’d seen things in her eyes that I refused to name. Things that confused me.
“Your first victim is here,” Jazzy teased.
Demi swallowed hard, taking Jazzy’s words to heart. Her eyes darted everywhere but at me.
I stood and held out my hand, playing my part in this charade. “I apologize that I didn’t properly introduce myselfearlier.”I was too damn stunned by you.Even more so now. Where was her black sack of a dress when I needed it? “I’m Roman Archer, Architect of Love.”
Demi pressed her lips together, trying to hold back a laugh, but she failed and it burst forth mockingly. “I’m so sorry. That just sounded way cheesier in real life than I thought it would.”
Jazzy laughed hysterically. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I hope you all got that on camera.”
The crew nodded, to my chagrin.
Part of me wanted to tell Demi we would see who would have the last laugh after I was done with my line of questioning, but then she placed her hand in mine. I’d forgotten I’d even offered it to her. But there was no forgetting the jolt of electricity that shot up my arm. It felt almost like a love pulse, but this wasn’t as subtle. It didn’t prick the heart. Whatever it was, it went much deeper. To a place I couldn’t name.
