We separated once we reached our floor, Charlie turning left to get to his room at the end of the hallway and me turning right.
Another day down, too many to go.
* * *
“So what you’retelling me is that therewasan identical dress to the one I wore yesterday hanging in here the whole time?” I gritted my teeth to stop myself from screaming.
“Yes,” the assistant replied, eyeing me like she wasn’t sure if she should restrain me or run as fast as her legs would let her.
I glared at the dress—which was spotless—in front of me and counted to ten. There was nothing I could do about it now. Except put on the sparkling clean dress the assistant was still holding out to me.
She bolted out of the room as soon as my fingers touched the fabric. I didn’t blame her. I’d have to apologize for my behavior. I wasn’t a rude person, and I knew it wasn’t the assistant’s fault that I had to wear a top doubling as a dress yesterday.
My hair and makeup were already done, and all I had to do was get dressed.
The zipper of the dress was at the back, and since I’d never been flexible, I struggled to close it, giving up when I made it halfway. I’d have to ask Mae to help me.
Everyone else was already on set, and I rushed out to join them. Last night had been one of the few nights in the last few weeks I hadn’t spent with Grayson. I’d missed him—as irrational as it was since I’d seen him during the day on set—and went to bed in a foul mood. A mood that didn’t improve once I woke up, making me slow and clumsy.
But filming wasn’t scheduled to start for another five minutes, so there was still a small chance I’d make it on time.
“Whoa, where you are you running off to?”
I hadn’t noticed Grayson standing in the hallway when I’d rushed out of the room, and a jolt ran through me when I saw him. He was wearing a black suit today, his dark-brown hair styled in his usual messy waves. I found it hard to tear my eyes from him, enjoying the view a little too much for only being his friend.
“I’m late. I think they’ll kick me off the show if I don’t get my shit together soon.”
Grayson fell in step beside me. “Won’t happen. Viewers love you. Don’t repeat this to anyone, but they actually don’t kick out most people because the judges didn’t like their baking. It’s usually because their ratings have fallen below a certain line.”
My mouth dropped open at his confession. “Are you serious? But that means the greatest baker doesn’t win but the most popular.”
He looked sheepish. “Showbiz, baby. That’s how it’s always been. And if a producer doesn’t like you, you’re out as well.”
“How about I’ll take you to dinner tonight? I’ve been meaning to try the sushi here.”
He rubbed his hands together, shooting me a wink. “I know the perfect place.”
We’d made it to my destination, and I turned to walk inside when a hand on my arm stopped me.
Hello, full-body shiver, my old nemesis. You show up at the worst of times.
I looked up at Grayson, expecting him to say something, but instead his attention was on my back. He stepped closer, the heat of his body seeping into me. It took all my willpower to stand still instead of leaning into him.
The light touch of his hand on my back caused goose bumps to break out all over. And when he slowly dragged the zipper up, trailing a finger along with it, I swallowed like a fish out of water in an attempt to dislodge the lump in my throat.
He stepped back, and I looked over my shoulder, meeting his molten gaze. “You forgot to close your zipper.” His voice was raspy, and his breathing was faster than usual.
Dare I think he was as affected by our proximity as me?
“There you are.” Wynona’s perky voice snapped us out of our bubble. “I need you to go over a few documents.”
Grayson held my eyes for a moment longer before giving me a chin lift and leaving with Wynona. I watched her take his hand, then shoot me a glare over her shoulder before they disappeared around the corner.
Shaking my head to rid myself of my wayward emotions, I walked into the brightly lit room that was bustling with activity. The hectic vibe did its job, and I soon forgot all about what had just happened.
Mae came up to me while I was busy arranging and then rearranging my cupcakes, stressing over how to best present them to the judges.
“I think it’s safe to say they liked your strawberry cake roll.” I nudged Mae.
