The thought unsettled her. For the first time, she saw a crack in the perfection she’d built around him. The man behind the icon.
So many things about him were different from what she’d imagined. Especially the fact that he was here, sharing an unhurried lunch with her, when someone like him should be booked to the last minute.
“To be honest,” Emma said, steering the subject away from Max, “I’m surprised you were available to jump in for the panel on such short notice. Isn’t your Comic-Con schedule packed with fan events?”
“They used to be,” he said. “When you’re up and coming, you can’t miss anything, so you squeeze your days completely full. I used to be so tired after Comic-Con that I slept for an entire day. These days,it’s just one or two bigger panels, a couple of interviews, and a photo op.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Perks of being a seasoned veteran.”
Of course. He was far enough along in his career to decide for himself how he wanted to spend his time.
And if he was choosing to spend it with her, there was only one logical explanation. Lucen.
“So, about the show—” she started.
“Apologies for the hoodie, by the way.” His eyes caught hers over the rim of his glass, red wine gleaming in the light. “I didn’t know I was going on a lunch date today.”
She set her own glass down slowly. There it was again. The flirting. Those subtle hints that maybe this wasn’t the professional setup she’d tried to convince herself it was. Or was he just toying with her? A flash of annoyance shot through her.
Fine. She had abandoned her naive fantasies somewhere in the rabbit hole of his dating history. They could do it his way.
“Is that what this is?” She tilted her head. “A date? Because I was told it was a meeting.”
“I think it’s up to us to decide.” His lips curved in a maddening half-smile.
Emma’s eyes narrowed as she searched for a response, but he went on before she found one. “You did great today, by the way. I know I ambushed you. But honestly, you were even sharper on that stage after you let your guard down a bit. I’m glad I took the risk.”
She hated the way those words slipped past her defenses. How that focus, that attention, stirred something in her she didn’t know how to protect herself from.
Her huff was deliberate, meant to deflect. “It was a gamble, at my expense. You don’t even know me. What if it had derailed me completely?”
His voice dipped. “It didn’t.”
Emma sat back. For a moment, the faint creaking of the walls was the only sound between them. His eyes stayed on her, unwavering, and she felt something inside her soften. Starting to yield.
Everything about him disarmed her—quietly, relentlessly. And the place didn’t help. The gentle stillness, the filtered light—it all felt suspended outside of time. Like a secret space where their lives could overlap. Where they weren’t the movie star and the girl from Minneapolis, but simply Darren and Emma. At least for a little while.
It felt natural. Tempting. Like letting go after holding on for too long.
But the problem with letting go . . .
It meant you were falling.
Chapter 16
A room built for privacy. And a panic button, just in case.
The food arrived under silver covers, magazine-perfect dishes revealed beneath the lids. Emma’s lemon risotto was scattered with purple pansies, a sharp line of licorice powder drawn across the plate. It smelled heavenly, reminding her she’d barely eaten breakfast.
Darren thanked the server as he left, then tapped a small brass bell fixed to the edge of the table. It looked like a doorbell. Or a panic button.
“No one will come back unless we call for them,” he said. The corner of his mouth curved up—the exact kind of wicked smile she’d always imagined for Lucen. “Just you and me now.”
A shiver swept through her, sharp and electric. She tried to mask it by leaning forward and scooping up a forkful of risotto. The first bite melted on her tongue, lemon and licorice in perfect harmony. The sensation caught her off guard—a small, involuntary noise escaped before she could stop it.
Darren watched her, the shadows of that smile still playing at his lips. He hadn’t touched his own food yet. “Good, right?”
She nodded. “Incredible.”
Only then did he reach for his steak tartare, as if her reaction had been his appetizer.
