Danny (Models On Top #1) (25 page)

BOOK: Danny (Models On Top #1)
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“Top of my game makes me think I can only go downhill from here.”

“No, that’s not what it means. It means we choose our next steps carefully. How are you feeling about acting?”

Shaking my head, I instantly reply, “Not that keen.”

“As I mentioned in my office, you don’t have to audition for some of the roles. Easy gigs.”

“I don’t need easy gigs. I’m working a lot as it is.”

“What about the future?”

“We can talk then. Right now, I’m not feeling it.”

Mark smiles. “Good. I think that’s wise. As for Vittori. How’s that going?”

“Well. I leave in two days for New York, then we’re off to Paris two days after that.”

“So you sure you want to eat that burger?”

Tilting my head, I’m annoyed and hope me giving him the evil eye gets the job done.

He blows me off. “Do you have to take your shirt off? Jody?”

Looking through her binder, she runs a finger down her meticulous notes. Stopping three-fourths of the page down, she taps it. “You might,” she says, looking up sympathetically. “There’s a clause that says you might. It’s better to err on the safe side.”

With the best timing ever, my burger is delivered. This calls for another evil glare in Mark’s direction. I push the plate away, and before the waitress leaves, I ask, “Can I get the burger to go and order grilled chicken lightly seasoned with a side of in-season veggies sautéed in light canola or vegetable oil, no butter?”

She smiles, picking up the burger. “Of course. I’ll put that order in now.”

Jody is about to dig into her salad, but looks like she feels bad. “Sorry.”

Mark says, “I’m not. This burger is damn good. You hitting the gym after lunch?”

“I guess I have to. I have a benefit to attend tonight.”

“Ah yes. Make us proud,” he adds, wiping his mouth.

I respond silently with my middle finger expressing how I feel about watching him eat what I’m craving. He’s lucky I like him so much, and he gets me the good gigs or I’d walk out on his ass right now.

Damn lucky.

 

 

“DANNY?”

“Over here.”

“Look here. Look here!”

“Danny Weston?’

“Right here.”

Angling left, I keep my smile minimal. That works best on the red carpet in photos.
Unaffected.
Even if I am, I pull it off like this is just another day in the life. I turn to face forward, tucking my hand in my pocket and raising my chin. This angle is always a good one in a well-fitted suit. Shows the lines down my body and highlights my height. With both hands in my pockets, I give the paparazzi to the right a new expression, a slight smirk and steely gaze before being directed to move to the next spot for photos.

The paps think they know what they want. They don’t. I do. I give them what they don’t even realize they need until I deliver it. And then they devour it—eating out of my hand.

I stop on the X marked out on the carpet and repeat the last stop.

Once I’m inside I head straight for the bar. “Bourbon on the rocks.”

The drink is set down and I leave a tip. “Thanks.” Turning to face the room, it’s filling up. I see a few familiar faces but no one who inspires me to cross the room. I’m fucking starving, but don’t see anything on the buffet I can eat before this photo shoot. My mind wanders while staring out one of the large windows. I should take a jog in the morning. I can’t drink too much tonight. I need sleep, but I definitely need at least one to take the edge off.

Since leaving Marfa, I’ve been off my game. I’ve wanted to text Reese a thousand times, but I’m starting to think she wants the time apart to figure out what’s happening in her life
and
with us.

Chuckling to myself, I find it funny that I assume I have this all figured out. All I know is that Reese Carmichael has made me reconsider my dating habits. I also don’t want to eat crow with Luke. I’ve told him to go after the girl, so I can’t sit idly by and let her walk away again. But I’m more confused than ever. Despite what Becs said about Reese’s mood after spending the night with me, I’m reminded of her closing sentiments.

We may never have New York or Paris, but we’ll always have Marfa.

“Hello.”

I follow the melodic voice and look beside me. A woman, beautiful blonde with her hair up—classically styled, black dress, not too revealing and pretty. Hazel eyes lit up by the bright day before us, and a confidence that comes with a comfort in herself. I’m guessing she’s in her late twenties, but you never know in this town the way Botox flows like champagne. “Hello,” I greet her. “I’m Danny Wes—”

“Weston.” She glances down embarrassed. “Please don’t consider me a stalker. Oh, maybe I am.” She laughs. “I was hoping to meet you tonight.”

Turning toward the attractive woman, I ask amused, “Were you now?”

She whispers, “My father is a philanthropist. This cause is personal for him, so he wanted it to be perfect, and of course raise a lot of money.”

“I left a donation check at the door.”

“Oh his behalf, I thank you. I must confess that I requested the invitation be sent to you.”

I’m intrigued. “And why is that?”

“I can’t imagine my reasons are much different from any other admirer.”

“You’re an admirer?”

“I feel silly admitting this to you. I’m a not-so-secret admirer, I suppose, since I’ve outed myself.”

“So my not-so-secret admirer knows me and my name, and yet, I know nothing about you other than you have great taste in men.” I chuckle. She laughs, then sips her champagne.

She offers her hand and I take it. “I’m Anna Collins.”

“Very nice to meet you, Anna Collins.” No ring. Eyes on mine. “For a stalker, I don’t think you’re living up to the reputation.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re much too restrained.” I tease, “I don’t think you even swooned since meeting me.”

That makes her laugh again. “Well, maybe I’m not a stalker after all, but it is very nice to meet you.” She finishes her drink. “And I’ve been swooning on the inside.”

“If I wasn’t enjoying your company so much, I might be offended by your lies.”

“No lie, but it does take a lot to make me swoon.”

“Well, I’m here if you need smelling salts.”

“Ahh, you make the ladies swoon and then help revive them. You’re quite the man, Mr. Weston, but I guess I knew that already. What I didn’t expect is how charming you’d be.”

Smiling, I say, “I think I might be undeserving of all the compliments.”

“I read how active you are with different charities, and I was impressed. You’re handsome and generous with your time
and
money. I never get star-struck, but you seemed to do it to me.”

“My apologies,” I retort playfully. I take another sip of my bourbon. “So you invited me just to meet me?”

“No, but selfishly I benefit. As does the charity.”

I lean against a column, my attention on her instead of the view outside. “I’m happy to be of service, Ms. Collins.”

Taking a step back, she seems to blush under my gaze. “I’ve taken too much of your time with my ramblings over a small infatuation. I should go and mingle.” Her hand waves toward the room behind her. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Weston, to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Collins.”

Looking back out the window, I finish my drink. A tap on the shoulder gets my attention. I smile when I see her.

Anna says, “Sorry for bothering you again, but I was wondering if you were seeing anyone?”

An eyebrow is raised from her boldness, but I can’t stop the smile. “If you want me to be honest, then I would have to say my current relationship status is complicated.”

Exhaled disappointment is expressed. “Well, it was worth a try.”

“I appreciate the interest,” I say, and because I hate letting people down, I add, “If the situation was different—”

“It’s fine. And thank you. Maybe another time things will be less… complicated.”

“Maybe.”

I watch her walk away this time, wondering if I’m making a mistake. I’m pretty confident the mistake I made was letting Reese get away ten years ago. I take my phone and decide to text her, consequences be damned.

Me:
I miss the way you smell.

Shrugging, I make no apologies for the heavy-hitting message. Just as I’m tucking my phone away, it buzzes. Flipping the screen on, there’s a message from Reese.

Reese:
You smelled me?

Smiling, I type:
And more. I also miss the taste of you.

Reese:
Danny…

Me:
Reese…

Reese:
We shouldn’t do this.

Me:
We should.

Reese:
We can’t.

Me:
We can. Tell me what you miss about me.

Staring down at my screen, I wait, but nothing comes. When the screen goes black, I sigh and go back to the bar for another drink. Right as I’m about to order, the screen lights up. Stepping off to the side, I turn my back to the crowd for privacy.

Reese:
I miss you tasting and smelling me. I miss the way you taste and smell. I miss the way your scent lingers on my skin and hate that when I showered it was gone. I miss so much I shouldn’t.

Me:
There is nothing wrong with the way you feel. I feel it too. This isn’t wrong. We’re not wrong.

Reese:
I could lose my job.

Me:
It wouldn’t be a job worth having then.

Reese:
Says the millionaire.

Me:
I
can’t make you any promises when you won’t believe in us.

Reese:
Believing in us equates into risking my career. I can’t give up everything I’ve worked for on the unknown.

Me:
I’m not the unknown. You know me better than anyone. Like I know you better than anyone else.

Reese:
You never lacked confidence.

Me:
It’s what attracted you to me in the first place.

Reese:
Actually, that was your ass. You always did have a great ass, you sexy bastard.

Chuckling, I’m reminded how good we were together. So good. I just need to keep reminding her.

Me:
Yours isn’t so shabby itself.

Reese:
I guess I have to settle for “isn’t so shabby” compared to your great ass.

Me:
You have a fantastic ass, but I don’t want the compliment going to your head.

Reese:
Good point. Your ego is big enough for the both of us.

Me:
Truth be told, I could spend hours telling you how amazing your ass is, but I have a feeling you won’t believe me.

Reese:
I might have to take you up on those hours. Maybe when you’re in NYC.

I mentally fist-pump.
Score!

Me:
I’m going to hold you to that.

Reese:
I like being held by you. Almost as much as I like your ass.

Me:
You always were an ass girl.

Reese:
You’re telling me.

Ha!

Me:
It’s a date.

Reese:
Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said hours.

Me:
That’s all I need.

Reese:
So cocky.

Me:
Speaking of…

Reese:
On that note, see you Monday, Danny.

Me:
I look forward to it.

 

 

 

HUD’S IS PACKED.
Luke is sitting like the king of the castle in the corner. I sit down.

“How’d you score this table?”

“I dropped your name.”

“Naturally. Where are your girls?”

“Bathroom.”

“Ah. So who are they and what are we drinking?”

“Crystal and Yvette. Pharmaceutical reps in town for a convention.”

“How’d you meet them and why don’t I have a drink yet?”

“I’ve ordered already.”

The waitress arrives with a tray of martinis. I shoot Luke a look and shake my head in disgust. “Okay, 007, you’re obviously trying to impress these women. Hook me up with the details before they get back.”

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