A jerk she’d shared a moment with at her premier last month. It was like in one of her movies, where the heroine sees the hero from across the room. They trace each other with their eyes, up then down, both liking what they see. And then something more—a connection—forms. Love at first sight? No, that doesn’t happen. But definitely more than lust.
They’d chatted about the business, his music, her movies. He’d told her about his family, his ranch. She’d shared about her dreams of time away from the world, where she wouldn’t always be the focus. Her job was her passion, but sometimes she dreamed of a break. Those were the times she’d doodle out a scene or two of her own creation. She’d told him that bit, too. Only those closest to her knew about her writing.
He was entirely too easy to talk to.
For a glimmer of a second, she’d thought what she and Tucker had between them was real. Not even the Hollywood brand of real, but out-of-the-spotlightreal.
When she’d searched him out later that night to make a move, he was gone.
Then he told the press she was a crappy actress.
Then her movie lost a shit ton of money at the box office.
So, yeah, she was a little raw about it all.
That treatment from nearly anyone else? She’d merely smile and move along. She’d been in the business long enough to understand everyone had an opinion. But, for some reason, Tucker’s mattered. His criticism stung. Tonight, she would remedy that. As soon as she figured out what to say.
“You should dance.” Leah slipped her arm through Kenzie’s and tugged her toward the VIP dance floor.
Abby linked her other arm and helped Leah scoot her along.
Not nearly as packed as the one downstairs, this dance floor was created for visibility throughout the club. Kenzie was being paid to attend tonight, and it was expected she appear to have a fabulous time.
Her contract said so.
“In a sec. I’m gonna talk to Tucker first.” Kenzie disentangled her arms, stood tall on her stiletto heels, and weaved through the crowd toward him.
“That’s a bad idea…” Leah continued talking but Kenzie ignored her.
What she was going to say? She had no idea. But she was going to tell him…something. Find out why he’d said mean things about her, what she’d done to offend him. That kind of thing. She’d figure it out.
Maybe something about how he’d hurt her feelings and he should apologize.
Yes, that’s what she’d say. And she’d say it with style, and class.
The nearly transparent dress her stylist had outfitted her in made hustling anywhere practically impossible. The heels didn’t help. So she took her time sauntering across the VIP section. Her bodyguard shadowed her movements. He was behind her, but she knew he was there. He was always there when she did these appearances.
“Tucker?” she asked, approaching his table.
His gaze lifted to hers. It softened for a split second. “Hey.”
“I came by to say hello.” She fidgeted with her glass. Which was unacceptable. She set it on the table and nudged it from the edge with her finger.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the other side of the booth. The guy sitting there scooted over to make room for her.
She didn’t sit.
“I was thinking we could chat alone, about some of the things you mentioned to a reporter about my movie.”
“Oh. That.” He ran a hand over his neck. The movement made the defined muscles of his triceps bunch.
Dammit. She wasn’t over here to check out his arms.
“Have your people call his people,” one of his people said.
Kenzie leaned toward Tucker, ignoring his entourage. “I’d really like a conversation.”
“Look.” His eyes were soft again. He gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. “Magazines print what magazines print.”
