LUCAS
Alex too. Maybe Grant and Sophia if they’re free.
JESS
Quite the dinner party for two people who barely tolerate each other.
LUCAS
We’re married, remember? Try to look like you enjoy my company.
JESS
That will be an Emmy-worthy performance.
LUCAS
Funny. I’ve seen how you look at me when you think no one’s watching.
My breath catches. What does that mean? Before I can overthink it or craft a suitably cutting response, another text comes through.
LUCAS
Don’t forget I’ll pick you up from work tomorrow at 7 for the Survivor premiere.
Great. More lying to people I care about. I set down my phone, pick up my wine glass again, and take a long sip.
“Just a story,” I repeat to myself, “with an embargo date.”
But as I turn back to my packing, I can’t shake the feeling that this particular story might be getting away from me, and the journalist in me knows those are always the most dangerous kind.
twelve
. . .
Lucas
“Three minutes until showtime,”I murmur, leaning so close to Jess that my lips brush her ear. The cameras mounted in the town car are capturing every moment, and I need her to remember that we’re being watched. “Smile like you love me, Scoop.”
I catch the slight shiver that runs through her body as my breath hits her skin. Interesting.
“Iamsmiling,” she whispers back, her lips barely moving. “And if you call me Scoop one more time, I will stab you with my stiletto when we get home.”
The threat is delivered with such honeyed sweetness that our documentary crew probably thinks she’s whispering sweet nothings. I pull back just enough to see her professional smile, perfect makeup, and hair swept up to expose the elegant line of her neck. She’s stunning.
And she smells amazing. She reminds me of ocean breezes and summer nights. It’s distracting in ways I can’t affordright now.
I reach for her hand and lace our fingers together with practiced ease. “Ready for tonight?”
“Born ready,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze that’s just shy of painful. “The sound bites I get tonight will be a perfect companion to the interview we have with Edie and Sophia.”
“I know.” I resist the urge to rub my thumb across her knuckles. “Grant’s thrilled you got the exclusive.Survivoris tracking to be Wonderland’s biggest opening this year.”
“And Sophia’s going to crush it,” Jess adds, with genuine enthusiasm breaking through her professional mask. “She deserves this moment.”
“She does.” I pause, noticing how the documentary cameraman is zooming in on our joined hands resting on the seat between us. “Speaking of moments, how are the invites for the dinner party going?”
“Good. Blair’s bringing the wine. Stella’s handling dessert.” She tilts her head, studying me. “You nervous to have all those people invade your space?”
