I heaved a sigh, staring at her taunting, hazel eyes. “I don’t want anything from you, thank you very much. Dad asked to see me, so here I am.”
Andrea chuckled and smoothed her skirt as she sat on the couch. “So you ran out of money, and now you need Daddy’s help. What do you need the money for? Another one of youraestheticprojects?”
“When have I ever…” I bit the inside of my cheek, switching my gaze toward Dad. “You know what? I’ll wait for you downstairs. We can talk on the way to your office.”
“No, Maggie, wait.” He placed the cup on the glass coffee table, glaring at Andrea. “I’m sure your mother doesn’t mean anything. She hasn’t seen you in a year and is just…interested in knowing what you’re up to these days.”
My glance fell on the hardwood floor. “Yeah, right.”
He lifted my chin with his finger and smiled. “Don’t pout. I’ll grab my things, and we’ll head to the office. Won’t be long.”
Andrea grabbed a gossip magazine from the stack on the coffee table and hid her face behind the glossy paper, while Dad climbed the stairs.
On the cover, there was a bare-chested picture of Mike Gennaro, and my mind went blank. The taupe brown curls of his hair flowed down to his naked shoulders. His dark brown eyes held a mischievous gaze. A scruffy jaw complemented his strong cheekbones and sculpted lips.
Heat spread under my skin as I traced down the lines of hairless, chiseled chest and killer abs. The thirty-three-year-old actor was a wet dream waiting to happen.
Happened.
So many times.
My eyes landed on the title under the picture.
The Italian Heartthrob back in L.A.
My heart raced despite me and all the promises I’d been making to myself. I mused back at my half-naked best friend, my thumb brushing against my smiling lips.
“He’s too old for you,” Andrea said. “Nine years too old to be exact.”
Eight years and nine months.I cleared my throat. “Who?”
Andrea’s head popped from behind the magazine. “Really?”
My head jerked in the other direction. “I already have a boyfriend. Mike is my friend.”
“No, he isn’t. He’smyfriend, andmyclient. That makes him an acquaintance to you. Don’t mistake him for anything else.”
Scene 2
Maggie
“How did you get here today?” Dad asked as I slid into the backseat of his Jaguar.
“The bus.”
“Nick Dawson’s only daughter is taking the bus?”
I smiled. “Well, I couldn’t afford the gas money for the Lexus you wanted to buy me for my last birthday. And when you make four grand a year,busis your only option.”
“Why are you doing this to yourself? You used to make more than thirty thousand a month when you worked with me.”
“Dad, you of all people know it’s never about money with me. It’s about—”
“Passion,” he interrupted. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that speech so many times before. I never want to hear it again.”
The direction of the conversation was taking a wrong turn, but I swallowed my resentment in light of more pressing issues. “Speaking of passion, I’m gonna make a movie.”
Dad’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “What?”
