Alice nodded, but deep down, the fear of turning out exactly like her mother churned.
Chapter Seven
Russ put his hands in his jacket pockets and then pulled them out again. He brushed at his beard to make sure it wasn’t sticking up in any weird places. Any second now, those shiny elevator doors were going to open, and Gabriella Green would glide out.
He paced the hall, and his mind jumped from thought to thought. He hadn’t really been popular in high school or college. He had a small group of friends and was happy, but he never really peaked. Therefore, he constantly felt like he was pushing himself to the next level. What he had, he’d earned. Even his relationship with Gabriella existed because he’d actively pursued her during her last visit.
What Alice said about being on the edge of taking off in his career felt right. He just needed a little push in the right direction. While Graham pushed him to finish the play, there was something else on the horizon that he couldn’t get to come into focus.
The elevator dinged, and Russ squared his shoulders, steeling himself not to go fan-crazy the minute Gabriella stepped into view.
Gabriella’s bodyguard—Tyrell, if he remembered correctly—stepped out first. Jerking his chin, Tyrell gave the all clear, and thenshewas there and Russ was dazzled,literallydazzled by Gabriella’s sequined coat and the diamonds dripping from her ears, throat, and wrists. Like a human disco ball, she reflected light in all directions and burned Russ’s corneas. He blinked several times before she got close enough for him to look at her face without his eyes watering.
“Russ, darling.” She air-kissed his cheek. “You look so cute in that blazer and scarf. So underdone and humble.”
Russ’s smile wavered. “Thanks?”Was that a compliment or a cut?
Giggling, Gabriella slipped her arm around his waist and laid her head against him. Russ’s senses went on overload. She was here, in his arms—well, arm—and smiling up at him with her perfect teeth and puffy lips.
He looked closer. One side of her lip was a little bumpy. Strange. Maybe it was a birth defect and that was why she always wore such dark lipstick. Alice didn’t wear dark lipstick. She liked lighter colors. Except for the other day, when she’d had on that pink stuff that kept drawing his eye.
“I’m ready to be dazzled by the sights of Harvest Ranch in the fall.”
Russ shook off the image of Alice in her big scarf and kissable lips. “I have a fantastic day planned.” He tentatively put his arm around her shoulder. The move was bold, yet he got the feeling Gabriella expected it. She was already attached to him, after all. He pulled out his keys.
Gabriella’s nose wrinkled. “We’ll take my town car—just tell Tyrell where to go.” She flicked her wrist towards her bodyguard.
They crossed the lobby and exited the heavy doors. She climbed in the back seat of the Lincoln SUV, and Russ gave Tyrell instructions. Tyrell nodded without a word, and they were soon on their way up the winding road to White Top Mountain.
A couple dozen people milled about the open grassy area at the bottom of the lift. Thanks to his yearly season ski pass, he’d been able to get them tickets to the summer lift for free. Most people had mountain bikes and body armor. The trails at the top of the mountain were world-class and well groomed. They drew bikers from all over the world.
A few people were dressed to hike. No one was dressed like Gabriella. She drew attention, which didn’t seem to bother her in the least.
“Do you spend much time up here?” she asked as they settled into their seat on the chairlift.
“I try to come up at least once a week. It helps clear my head.”
“That’s so important for an artist.”
Russ cleared his throat. “I’m a playwright.”
“Right, but your plays are like art.” She threw her arms wide. “You’re giving a part of your soul to the universe.” Laying her hand on his arm, she continued, “The way you bare yourself to the world is so brave.”
Gabriella obviously had different ideas of what writing was than what Russ experienced on a daily basis. Lately, every sentence was a giant gummy worm he had to pull out of his brain. Nothing came easy.
“I saw one of your plays last season and was moved deeply.” She placed her hand on her front, right below where her coat was unzipped and her chest almost spilled out.
Russ jerked his eyes back up to her uneven lips, hoping she hadn’t seen them drop in the first place. “Which play?”
She fanned the air. “Modern LoversorRomance in the Gym. Titles aren’t important.”
“Modern Romance.” He’d sweated over that title for months.
She pressed her chest against him, and her words took on a level of seduction. “What’s important is the way your words made me feel … and I felt something deep in here.”
Russ’s brain jumped off the chair and left him without a response.
“You moved me, Russ.” She breathed the words at him, infusing them with wanting that made Russ’s face burn with shame—and he hadn’t done anything!
