Hollywood & Vine (9 page)

Still, no matter how tempted he was, and even though the entire situation drove him crazy, he couldn’t walk away from the challenge Josie presented. He debated texting her again, but every doubt in his body said no. He should wait until he saw her so he could control the situation, read her facial expressions, and see firsthand if she suspected it was him. With a resigned sigh he threw his phone on the table and flipped on the television. He’d see her tomorrow. That would be soon enough.

Even in his mind he knew that was bullshit.

Later that evening, Josie pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and grimaced, realizing she was late. Doing a quick check of her makeup, she stepped into the warm evening air. She hadn’t meant to be so late, but she’d spent more time getting ready than expected.

Once inside, Josie spotted Madison, who gave her a long look before waving her over. It was a domino effect from there. Josie cut her eyes to Holden to gauge his reaction, but Holden was staring at Philip, who was looking at Josie like she was something to eat.

“That’s your sister?” Philip asked, his eyes fixed on Josie as a sexy smile stretched across his face.

Holden hummed in response.

“Hey, Josie.” Madison gave Josie a questioning look, but didn’t press when Josie subtlety shook her head.

“Maddie.”

“There you are.” Holden rose from his chair and gave her a hug before turning to Philip who also stood.

“Philip, this is my sister, Josie. Josie, Philip.”

Philip wrapped his hand around Josie’s and dipped his chin but kept his eyes on her. “Hello, Josie. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Josie’s knees buckled when he spoke. His thick French accent made the greeting sound indecent. “Hi.” She cleared her throat and tried to ignore the way her own voice sounded high and off-pitch. Holden tugged Josie back, breaking the contact between the two.

“Do you want a Corona?” Holden asked, eyeing Philip as he eased back into his seat.

Josie shook her head. “Margarita on the rocks. Tequila shot on the side.”

Josie smiled at Philip and ignored Madison’s kick to her chair. She wasn’t in the mood to answer questions. She didn’t want to admit how much it bothered her to see those photos of Anders with his face buried between some girl’s breasts. She wondered how he could expel so much energy chasing her and still hook up with random girls. She couldn’t understand why he wasted the effort on her when it was obviously so easy for him to find girls. Her fists clenched. The reason was obvious. It was a game to him.

As much as she liked being chased, it wasn’t worth how it made her feel when she saw those pictures. She felt discarded and small, unimportant. Nothing was worth that. He’d been right when he said she was playing a very dangerous game she would not win. Which was why she was throwing in her cards. No more flirting. No more leather pants and low tops. She would keep things strictly professional from now on.

“When did you move to town?” Josie turned her attention to Philip as she grabbed her drink from the waitress and pulled the straw between her lips.

“Um, just two weeks ago.” His voice had risen at the end, making his statement sound more like a question than he intended. He couldn’t help it. The girl in front of him was quite distracting.

Josie hummed and grabbed the saltshaker. She licked her hand before sprinkling it with salt then grabbed the shot glass. “Cheers!” She downed the shot in one smooth motion, her expression not reflecting her distaste for the bitter liquor.

“I’ve got the next one.” Philip grinned. He motioned for the waitress to bring over four shots as Holden and Madison watched Josie with a mix of annoyance and concern. Two shots later everyone’s shoulders began to slacken and the tension in the air evaporated. They talked about LA and things to do around the city. Philip hinted more than once that he’d love for someone to show him around, but Josie’s tequila-hazed mind was too far gone to pick up his meaning, much to Holden’s relief.

It was when the conversation veered to Josie’s job that Madison noticed a crack in Josie’s carefully composed mask. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but something told her it had to do with Anders Ellis.

“If you guys will excuse us.” Madison didn’t elaborate. Instead she grabbed Josie’s hand and hauled her to the bathroom. The room spun when Madison yanked Josie to her feet, but she didn’t protest.

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Madison steadied Josie against the wall, then stepped back so she could get a good look at her drunken friend. Josie groaned and dropped her chin, her gaze fixed on her chest.

“I have a nice rack, don’t I? Wait, don’t answer that. I have a nice rack. I have a spectacular rack. Philip must think so. He hasn’t stopped staring since I got here.” Her words came out in a rush, her eyes widening as she looked from her chest to Madison.

“Okay first, please stop saying rack. Second, um, what is the matter with you?”

Josie pressed her palm to her forehead. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Well, obviously it’s something. You’re not acting like yourself at all. Well, except for the tequila shots. That’s completely like you but beside the point.”

Josie cracked a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t be jealous because I can hold me liquor and you can’t.”

“Oh, I can hold it just fine. That’s the problem. Even when I should puke, I don’t. It’s caused a lot of tabletop dances I’m glad I can’t remember.” Madison giggled and walked over to Josie. Grabbing Josie’s hands, she pulled her away from the wall and threw an arm over her shoulders. “You ready to talk to me now?”

“I’m just annoyed with myself. It’s not a big deal, I promise.” Josie meant what she said. She wasn’t going to let this thing with Anders mess with her any more. She was going to concentrate on the here and now. It didn’t hurt that the here and now included a hot French chef who stared at her like a four-course meal.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, your tits are fantastic.”

Josie let out a loud, grateful laugh and hugged Madison. “Thanks for letting me work this out on my own.”

“No pressure, Josie. But I’m here if you need me.”

“I know.”

“Now”
―
Madison laughed
―
“let’s go back out there and see how many shades of red your brother’s face can turn from watching Philip eye fuck you.”

Josie pretended to gag. “Can you please not mention my brother and any kind of fucking in the same sentence? There’s not enough tequila in the world for me to not be grossed out by that image.”

Madison grinned mischievously. “Challenge accepted.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur: more tequila, a second bar, then a third. Sweet words wrapped in a silky French accent tried their best to land a date with Josie. Despite his efforts, all Philip managed to score was a kiss on the cheek and his number slipped into Josie’s back pocket. Holden breathed a sigh of relief as Josie stumbled into her house at the end of the night. He wasn’t sure what was bothering her, but he’d mind his business for now.

T
he sound of Josie’s alarm clock beeping the next morning made her moan in pain. She rolled to her side and reached for the snooze button, her arm waving in the air before making contact. Hugging her pillow, she burrowed under the covers. Her mouth felt like it was full of sawdust, and she was certain a hundred tiny men were chopping down a forest in her head.

Forty-five minutes later her phone rang, jarring her from sleep. She squinted at the clock before cursing under her breath and jumping out of bed. The room tipped and her stomach rolled as she braced herself on the nightstand.

“Hello?” Her voice was low and scratchy, like sandpaper rubbing cement.

“Well, good morning, Josie. I figured you’d need a morning wake-up call. Madison’s in the shower. You sound about as good as she does. Work should be fun for you two today. Later, sunshine!” Holden’s voice rang in Josie’s head, his tone cheerful and loud. Jerk.

Josie stumbled to the bathroom and crawled into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to warm up first. She needed all the help she could get to make it through the day. Luckily, she only had to be at the studio for a few hours.

Her stomach fluttered with nerves as she thought about the reason she had to go to the studio. She considered calling in sick but couldn’t make herself do it, not when she was the only person to blame for her pathetic state. Well, her and Anders Ellis. As the cold water washed over her face, she wondered how he would act today. Would he be distant and uninterested, or would he pretend nothing happened? She clenched her jaw and yanked her shampoo from the shelf. Her resolve to not care about Anders and his games was a lot easier to declare with five shots of tequila in her system. Yet now, with a somewhat clear mind, it was a jumble all over again.

While Josie tried to get herself together, Anders paced the length of his trailer and checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Josie was late. He’d called her department, but no one had seen her. He eyed his phone, ready to call her when something bumped against the door. A frown twisted his mouth when he turned to see Josie stumble inside. Even though he’d prepared to lay into her for being late, something about her appearance stopped him. She looked...like shit.

“Are you sick?” His voice was harsher than he intended.

She glared at him through hazy, bloodshot eyes. No matter how unreasonable or misplaced her feelings were, she blamed him for her massive hangover. “Why do you care?”

The tone of her voice set him off. “I don’t. But if you’re sick, you should have the common courtesy to tell people. I don’t need to catch whatever you’re infected with.”

Josie opened her mouth, a snarky reply on her lips, when a wave of nausea washed over her. She steadied herself against the wall as her vision blurred and her stomach churned. Anders was at her side before he realized what he was doing. He wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her upright, his face scrunched with concern. “Hey.” His voice was soft as his eyes darted over her face. He pulled her to his chair, his movements slow and cautious as her face flushed with color. “Ivy, are you okay?”

She pushed his chest in a weak attempt to get away from him, but her effort was more about principle than actual discomfort. “No,” she groaned, falling into his chair.

The moment she spoke, the smell of tequila hit the air. Anders pulled his head back in distaste, the familiar smell wiping away any concern he felt. “Yeah.” His voice was flat and clipped, as he stepped away from her. “Tequila’s a bitch.”

Josie pressed her palm against her forehead and squeezed her eyes closed. She spoke before giving any thought to how her words would be interpreted. “Maybe if I took my shots from between someone’s breasts, I wouldn’t feel so bad.”

Anders’ eyes widened and Josie cursed under her breath. She balled her fists and waited for the smart-ass remark she didn’t have the energy to fight. For once, though, Josie was going to get a free pass. As much as Anders wanted to be a cocky asshole, the confirmation she had seen the pictures sent him into damage control mode.

He walked over to the carafe of coffee and poured a cup. “How do you take it?”

“Out of a shot glass, like normal people, asshole.”

Anders chuckled. He couldn’t help feeling smug. Josie put up a good front, but every day she revealed how much she wanted him, no matter how hard she pretended not to.

“Not tequila. Coffee. But if that’s what you want, I could find some.”

Josie lifted her head, her eyes narrowing as she focused on Anders holding a cup of steaming coffee and a pack of sugar. He flicked his wrist, shaking the packet as one side of his mouth lifted in amusement.

“What?” She blinked, certain she was hallucinating. Maybe she was still drunk because there was no way Anders Ellis was making her coffee.

“Your coffee, Josie. Do you want sugar? Cream?” He’d attempted small talk for only a couple of minutes and already he’d grown tired of it.

“Just black,” she answered reluctantly. No doubt an ulterior motive lurked beneath the surface. He nodded and crossed the room until he stood in front of her.

“Here,” he murmured.

“Thanks.” They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Anders had to start the conversation. He needed to convince her he wasn’t an asshole. Even making a conscious effort to not act like dick, he still managed to bring up the one subject Josie had no interest in discussing.

“Why did you get smashed last night?” He tried to sound casual, but the memory of their last encounter floated to the forefront of his mind. It made him wonder again if she’d been with some guy the entire weekend.

Josie grimaced. “I went out with a few friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I get?” His tone was indignant. “You show up late for work, hung-over and reeking of tequila, and instead of laying into you like I should, I make you coffee. Still, you can’t give more than a one word answer. Typical.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Josie spat. She slammed the coffee onto his dresser, the hot liquid sloshing over the rim and scalding her hand. “You pour a cup of coffee and refrain from being a jerk for two minutes and you think that entitles you to details about my personal life? Newsflash, Anders. Normal people do that kind of thing without expecting something in return.” She peeked at her hand and grimaced at the bright red color of her skin. “I should have known better.” Her words were a whispered mumble as she fought back angry tears. She was too hung-over to get into a sparring match, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t let him have the last word. She kept her eyes down and searched for something to wipe her hand as she tried to get her emotions under control.