"Well, I like her," Sarah says. "And I think it would be fantastic if you realized while you were mentoring her that maybe you'd like to date her, too."
"Never going to happen."
I just shake my head and keep walking toward the theater, but my mind drifts back to Sophia's body in that soft silk dress, the material clinging to every curve and dip. I can imagine how my fingers would glide smoothly over every inch of her ivory skin, my hands finding all the places that might make her sigh or moan—a veritable treasure in my palms. But Sophia isn't the casual type. She has that blend of worldly confidence and endearing awkwardness that suggests she's not into meaningless flings, and I'm the guy who doesn't do relationships.
"Are you talking about Sophia?" Hazel asks.
"We sure are. I was just telling Aunt Sarah that the movie starts shooting next week."
"Awesome, Dad. Maybe I can come to the set with you one day."
"We'll see, nugget."
I smile down at my perfect girl. Sarah is right—I am overprotective of Hazel when it comes to who she meets. If I date—and let's be honest, I have needs—I establish boundaries and expectations well before making any arrangements. There's absolutely no need for any woman to meet my daughter. Hazel already has a mother and doesn't need another one.
I scan the event and feel the electricity hum through my bones. I love this stuff. I'm surrounded by the most creative storytellers in the world. The imagination and ingenuity seem contagious, and I believe this right here is what makes the world a better place. The ability to reflect, explain, or escape the world in a way that can change a person—or the entire world—is humbling. I'm a lucky idiot who stumbled hisway into this business, and I'll never take it for granted. It's where I'm meant to be.
Now that Hazel is getting older, I want her to experience the same feelings of possibility and hope. That's why I'm excited about bringing her to events like this. Plus, I love spending time with her and will take every extra minute I can get. She may not decide entertainment is her path, but she'll never for once believe she can't achieve whatever she puts her mind to.
"Thanks for coming tonight. Hazel wouldn't be able to enjoy this without your help. I appreciate it."
I wrap my arm around Sarah's shoulder and bring her in for a side hug just as I catch Sophia's eyes on us. Sophia gives me a curt smile and turns quickly before I can wave back. Something about that expression—her face closed off, her lips pursed—tells me she's wearing her fake smile again. Maybe she's nervous.
"It's tough, you know, all these celebrities and fancy gift bags. You owe me for sure," Sarah teases with a laugh, hugging me back.
I take another look around at the buzzing energy of the attendees before we walk into the theater for the show. My eyes search for that dark-haired, blue-eyed princess who seems to have a spell on me, no matter how much I deny it. It's the most a woman has been on my mind in years.
three
. . .
Sophia
I'm scarfingdown the biggest plate of fries, making up for what I missed prepping to fit into my Oscars gown. It was worth it, but oh, how I've missed my salty friends.
The bustling lunchtime at The Front Yard is all cozy booths, soft jazz music, and the constant clink of silverware on china. Sunlight peeks through umbrellas shading the outdoor dining area, illuminating the pastel-colored walls and highlighting exactly how much I've already eaten.
I'm antsy, too. Tomorrow is the first day of filming for my new project, and my brain won't stop flitting between best-case scenarios—landing critical acclaim by lunch—and worst-case ones, like me face-planting in front of the entire crew.
"You ready for tomorrow?" Blair asks, reaching across to pluck a fry from my plate before I can stop her.
I fake a slap at her hand. "If you wanted fries, why didn't you order fries?"
She smirks, brushing salt off her fingertips. "I'm notlike you. I can't eat whatever I want and maintain this girlish figure."
I roll my eyes. Blair is knockout gorgeous. She has the kind of body that belongs on posters boys pin to their bedroom walls. I shove my plate over to her, partly to share and partly so I won't keep mindlessly eating because of nerves.
"I'm just ready to get the first day over with," I say. "It's always awkward. No one really knows the cast-and-crew dynamics yet, but by day two, things feel normal."
"You're leading the day off, right?" Blair snags another fry.
"Actually, I asked Grant to say a few words first thing. I thought he might like to meet everyone, plus"—I lower my voice—"I could use a little visual credibility from the boss."
Blair stills and looks up at me right before she takes a sip of her iced tea. "Grant is coming? Tomorrow? In person?"
"Is that weird?" I ask, frowning. "What's the problem?"
She's sitting across the table from me, next to my brother. Wyatt glances at her, and they do that silent brow-wiggle communication I've seen a million times.
