She clutched the rail as it groaned its way upward. Part of her almost wished it would get stuck—then at least she’d have a solid excuse for not showing up. But it carried her steadily to the top, bringing her closer to him with every slow inch.
By the time she stepped out on the landing, she felt the same rush in her veins as before the panel. But there was no one watching this time. Only him.
She couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing.
A waiter spotted her. “Right this way, Ms. Whitehart.”
The room he led her into was small and intimate. Beneath a window with leaded glass panes, a single round table was set for two—no tablecloth, just a lit candle. And by the table...
Darren.
He looked up as she entered. Emma’s heart gave a single, sharp kick. She exhaled slowly, feeling her pulse behind her ears.
Darren rose from his chair, the faint sunlight making his black hair glow. Same charcoal hoodie as before, sleeves pushed to the elbow. The smile he gave her was that quiet, private one from backstage, and every coherent thought she’d walked in with simply...dissolved.
“Emma. I was beginning to worry that the elevator had scared you off.”
She forced her tone to be light. “No way. I survived this insane panel with a movie star earlier today. Nothing scares me anymore.”
He went over to her chair and held it out for her, with dark amusement glinting in his eyes. “Good to know.”
The words settled deep in her abdomen.
She went to him and sat down, all too aware of his nearness. He kept his grip on her chair long enough to feel deliberate. As if to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere. She sat completely still until he went back to his seat, the candle flame wavering between them.
There was no menu, just a few select courses presented in a hushed voice by the waiter. Darren chose a steak tartare, and Emma decided on a lemon risotto. The waiter disappeared, leaving them alone in this small room with its scuffed floorboards and worn furniture, cozy and lived-in like someone’s home.
Their eyes met across the table, and she felt that relentless tug again, as if he held some kind of power over her. She pushed back the thought. He wasn’t Sebastian Vale. He wasn’t Lucen. No magical abilities beyond good looks, charm, and confidence.
“Nice place,” she said, because it was safe and predictable. Ideal for a work meeting. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Darren gave a nod. “I came here once, a few years ago. The food’s excellent. And it’s invisible from the outside world, which is quite convenient for us at the moment, don’t you think?”
The word “us” lodged in her mind. Something in the way he said it—the slightest hint of emphasis—made it seem intentional. She sipped her water, pretending she didn’t notice.
“But I just chose the place,” he continued. “I was glad your PR manager reached out. After that whole spectacle, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He gave a tilt of his head. “Not that I think she would’ve taken no for an answer. She’s really...quite something.”
Emma let out a soft huff. “Quite something” was a pretty good summary. “Yeah, Leah is incredible. I have her to thank for a lot. Including the Netflix deal.” She glanced up at Darren to see if he’d bite.
His only answer was a low hum. God, he was impossible to read. Was that an actor thing, or was it just him?
The waiter arrived with wine and bread. They sat in silence as he poured for them, the wine whispering against the glass. When he finally left, the light in the room seemed to have dimmed a shade or two.
Darren lifted his glass in a toast. “To an interesting panel today.”
She mirrored him, sitting a little straighter. “And to two very happy handlers. I bet Max was as excited as Leah about the online reactions.”
A ghost of something swept across his features, almost too fast for her to catch. She took a sip of her wine, crisp and dry on her tongue.
“I’m sorry about Max before,” Darren said. “I know he seems sleazy, but it’s really just posturing. He’s a lot more decent than he comes across.”
“I’m sure he is,” Emma said primly. She heard the thinness in her own voice. But it was hard to forget the way Max’s eyes had tracked her body in the green room.
Darren leaned forward. “He’s a bit of an ass, I know. But he works harder than anyone in the business, and when it counts, he’s on the right side of things. We go way back, and he’s been...there for me. Even at times when no one else was.”
His face turned distant for a moment. Emma wondered if he meant the situation with Alana or something else entirely.
There was something endearing about the way he defended Max, and yet it struck her as odd. It made her wonder if that loyalty had ever cost him something. If anyone had ever used his steadiness against him.
