Page 90 of Love On and Off Set

Right, he’d said that. “Elouise?”

Another shake of the head.

Right. Because she was babysitting.

Focus.

The bartender shrugged, then offered a lovely smile. “You two are good-looking enough that people’ll think you’re actors.”

Seamus’s cheeks turned a deep scarlet.

I merely laughed at the flirting. I was an okay-looking guy. Blond shaggy hair, pale-blue eyes. A nose that had been broken in high school—playing volleyball, no less. Nothing glamorous. Nothing with a great story to share.

After a moment, we had four bottles of beer and a martini.

I tried to yank out my wallet.

She waved me off.

I arched an eyebrow.

She pointed to Seamus.

Who was already balancing his three bottles and heading back to the large group of tables we’d commandeered in the back. They’d put them all together and had created a u shape that sat about twenty-five people.

I eyed the bartender. “Valentino?”

She grinned and mimed zipping her lips.

The man always had more generosity than sense. Of course, the blockbuster movie he’d produced last year had raked in over a billion dollars. So he probably wasn’t hurting. He and Seamus donated to several charities. Quietly, of course. Including one dedicated to disadvantaged youth on the downtown eastside of Vancouver. Cole was the spokesperson for that charity, as it helped kids in his old neighborhood. More great deeds.

I managed to pay my mortgage, car maintenance—on a ten-year-old Mazda—and to feed myself and Minnie. I didn’t have much left over at the end of the day, but I always donated.

Val rose to help Seamus with the beers, caught sight of me, and offered a huge smile. “You made it.”

I raised his martini in a toast.

“Oh, a man after my heart.” Stunningly good looking—with his blond hair and blue eyes—he could’ve been an actor. His talent, though, lay in putting things together behind the scenes. Even as he took a drink, his phone rang.

I cocked my head.

He checked the screen, then raised an eyebrow. “I have to take this.” He put his glass on the table next to Seamus, squeezed his husband’s shoulder, and headed to the back where the music wouldn’t be so loud.

I sat across from Seamus.

“That’ll be Jerome.” The redhead grinned. “He’s at Susan Miller’s beach house in Carbon Beach down in California.”

“Oh?” Susan Miller was the head of the studio. The stunning Black woman ruled over everyone with both an iron fist and a light touch. She made her way to Vancouver several times a year. I’d caught her in action once, going toe-to-toe with Val.

She’d won.

“How’s Jerome doing?”

Seamus grinned. “Okay, so like you heard about what happened, right?”

I leaned in. “When he thought he’d bought an escort, but the guy who showed up was the lead actor?”

“Yep.”