Emma pressed her lips together. “I was just deciding who to network with next.”
“Sure you were.” Leah flicked her hair back, copper catching the light. “Then, on a completely unrelated topic, you never told me how the casting talks went at lunch.”
It was true—she’d actually forgotten about that part. After the bookstore signing, the first thing Leah had done on the ride back was to turn toward Emma so fast her seatbelt locked and command, “Spill.”
So Emma did. She told her about the haunted elevator, escaping through the hatch (leaving out the part where Darren had to save her,and definitely the part about how it felt to be pressed against him), and about her blouse ripping so she had to borrow Darren’s shirt.
Leah had been less impressed than Emma had thought—probably because she’d have done the same thing, wearing heels—but she did mutter something about insurance premiums. Then they were back at the hotel, taking turns in the shower, before Emma could say much more about the actual lunch.
She shrugged, sipping her champagne. “I don’t know. He’s hard to read. He kind of dodged the subject when I brought it up.”
“Strange.” Leah folded her arms, glass dangling elegantly from her hand. “You’d think he’d be all over it. Truth be told, his career has been dipping a bit in the last few years. Lucen could be just the kind of part he needs to change the trajectory. Something that could finally override his legacy as Sebastian Vale, instead of just another pale copy.”
“Darren’s career isn’t in a slump,” Emma protested. “You should have heard the Hall H crowd during his panel. He drew more decibels than the rest of them put together. My eardrums are still not quite recovered.”
“He’s got a strong fan base,” Leah agreed. “But he hasn’t played a truly original, well-rounded character in ages.Darkreachhas heavy promotional dollars behind it, but have you noticed it’s kind of a shitty show?”
Emma made a reluctant sound that wasn’t quite a no. For some reason, she felt an instinct to defend him. Then again,Darkreachwas a pretty shitty show.
Leah’s eyes narrowed. “His move at the panel was so perfectly engineered to set up a casting hype. So why wouldn’t he want to talk about it? I wonder what game he’s playing.”
The casual words hit Emma like a sucker punch. As if it were obvious he was just playing an angle.
“Well, in other news,” Leah went on, “Kay is supposed to be here tonight, and I think I have a good opening after my tampon rescue yesterday.”
“That’s great, Leah.” Emma did her best to sound enthusiastic, still reeling from the Darren comment, now also sprinkled with a few stingsof jealousy. This night was just getting better and better. Maybe she should just go ahead and get seasick, too.
Kay Bellamy, the Wonder Writer. Emma was suddenly reminded that she still owed Miranda a hefty number of pages. Which would have been fine, except they were still lacking that small detail of actual words.
Leah nodded. “Yeah. Might need someone to gush about how awesome I am. Be prepared to lay it on thick. I’ll bribe you.”
Emma tipped her glass. “Hey, for you, I’ll do interpretive dance if I have to. Just please don’t buy me any more designer heels I’ll feel obliged to wear.”
“No promises,” Leah said, already on the move. “I’ll whistle when I need you. Keep an ear out.”
Emma shook her head, turning her attention back to the water. The cool night air made her shiver, but she preferred to stay here rather than risk being dragged into another tedious conversation. Drinking alone felt slightly more acceptable when you were dressed up and on a boat.
She was mid-sip when her phone buzzed in her purse. She fished it up, the display showing a text from an unknown number.
Hi. Rode an elevator before and thought of you. What are you doing tonight?
A tiny spark flared under her ribs. She glanced around automatically, as if someone would be peeking over her shoulder.
Who is this?she typed.I have inside elevator jokes with lots of people.
She bit her lip, imagining that low, amused chuckle of his.
Sorry, how presumptuous of me. This is Darren Cole. We had lunch today, and then I saved your life?
A laugh slipped out before she could stop it.
He texted in full sentences—with punctuation, and words like presumptuous. That alone could have made her fall for him. Hell, she’d ghosted dates for using double exclamation marks.
Ah. Does ring a bell. How did you get my number?she typed.
The three little dots appeared again, teasing an answer.
A gentleman never tells. Let’s just say I know a person who knows a person.
