Over Exposed (14 page)

“Well, she and Neal have been inseparable since then, according to
ET
.”

Darryl shook his hands and screwed his face up in mock horror, making the women laugh. “And we
all
know how reliable a news source that is.”

“Hey, I have kids, give me a break. I don't get out much.”

Sabrina barely heard another word.

Greg had arrived.

And he hadn't contacted her.

She had to bite her tongue so she didn't interrogate Danica.

How had he looked? Had he asked about her?

Of course he hadn't. If he had, Danica would've been interrogating her.

Instead they were discussing the possibility that Greg was sleeping with his ex behind her husband's back.

Her stomach rolled and she put down her fork.

Why hadn't Kate told her?

Sliding a glance at the table behind her, Sabrina saw Kate and Tyler engaged with several other couples. Jared and Annabelle were at another table, talking and laughing.

Because they were busy with their lives, that's why.

Daisy. Greg's ex. Here alone.

Of course that was the reason she hadn't heard from Greg. He was with Daisy.

And maybe you aren't giving him enough credit. The guy is filming a movie in less than a week. Daisy is working for him.

Maybe Daisy had arrived early to do publicity or rehearse or . . .

Then why hasn't he been in touch with you?

She tried to ignore the growing ache in her chest as dinner went on. What she really wanted to do was go back to her room, curl on her bed, and fall into unconsciousness. Which wasn't going to happen because she had to work. Hours and hours of alone time to think.

Lovely.

She managed to make it through another half hour at dinner before she was able to plead work as an excuse, go to her room to change, then head back to the reception office.

Laney, fully recovered from her accident, was more than happy to give up her post early so she could enjoy dessert with the rest of the staff. She thanked Sabrina with a tight hug then promised to bring Sabrina a piece of whatever the chef was serving. Sabrina didn't have the heart to tell her not to.

By three a.m., she'd devoured the slice of decadent chocolate cake and was following it with some highly caffeinated, highly sweetened tea, trying not to let her brain become caught in a rut.

So was he up there with Daisy now?

She huffed. “No, I'm not going to think about it.”

“Think about what?”

She bit back a surprised squeak as she shot up from the chair she'd been sitting on at the computer terminal.

A man stood in front of the reception desk, baseball cap low on his forehead, black leather coat collar shadowing the bottom half of his face. She couldn't believe she'd completely missed his entrance into the lobby. And now she wondered if that was on purpose.

Her gaze slid toward the door, where the bellman should be. And wasn't.

She swallowed down the flash of fear that sprang up. He couldn't have come in through the front door because it was locked this late at night. Which meant he had to have come through the garage, and the only way into the garage was through the bellman, who doubled as security this late at night. Which would explain why there was no one at the door.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't see you come in.” She dredged up a smile. “Welcome to Haven. How can I help you?”

“Well, for starters, I'm sorry I scared the crap out of you, but you looked pretty intent on what you were doing.”

Setting his bags on the floor, one of which was a guitar case, he folded down the collar then took off the hat.

Sabrina felt her eyes widen as his face emerged. At first glance, he wasn't conventionally handsome. Shaggy, dirty blond hair flopped over his broad forehead, almost obscuring light eyes that were either blue or green or maybe somewhere in between. His nose was slightly too large for his face, and his chin made up for the nose in being perfectly masculine and covered with reddish-gold whiskers. And that mouth was something else.

Running a hand through his hair made it fall in crazy ways that were just as attractive as before. “I was told to contact Tyler Golden when I got here but since it's three in the morning, I figured I'd just check in and touch base with him tomorrow.”

“Oh, of course. Do you have a reservation?”

“Honestly, I'm not sure.” He grimaced and looked like the next words out of his mouth didn't taste all that good. “I believe my dad was going to take care of that.”

She brightened her smile, wanting to put him at ease. The closer she looked at him, the more she could see exhaustion in the pallor of his skin and the dullness of his eyes.

“Okay, let me check. Can I have your name?”

“Sebastian Valenti.” Then he paused, as if waiting to see how she reacted. When she didn't, he continued. “Might be under my dad's name, Arthur Valenti. Like I said, I'm not even sure he made the reservation. He only told me Golden would be expecting me.”

“Just give me a minute.”

She had already double checked the registration roster when she'd started tonight, but maybe she'd missed something. Her concentration had been fractured.

Haven wasn't the kind of place where people walked in off the street to book a room. Yes, visitors came for the bar or the restaurant and, very occasionally, a few of those guests would book rooms for the night, if there was one available.

They did have rooms tonight so registering him wouldn't be a problem.

But if he really was supposed to contact Tyler when he arrived, she figured she'd better do just that.

“I'm sorry I don't have you on the list but let me contact Tyler. If he's expecting you—”

“He is.” Sebastian sighed, grimacing. “Unfortunately. Look, I really don't want to wake him this late at night. I'll just check my bags. I think I saw an all-night diner just down the street—”

“No need for that.” Tyler walked out of the elevator just as she'd been reaching for her phone to text him. “Sebastian, I'm Tyler. Nice to meet you.”

Sebastian visibly tensed as Tyler came toward him, hand outstretched, smile firmly in place. Almost as if he didn't want to meet him.

When Tyler was almost on top of him, Sebastian finally took his hand.

“Thanks for taking me in.” The words sounded almost bitten off. “I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem. We're glad to have you.”

Taking him in? Her natural curiosity kicked in but she didn't have time to indulge it because Tyler turned to her.

“Sabrina, we're going to register Sebastian under a false name. He's going to be staying with us for several weeks and he'd rather keep his whereabouts secret.”

“Of course.” She flashed Sebastian another smile, noticing the tight set of his jaw and the clenched fists at his sides.

Obviously this guy was someone famous. And she had absolutely no idea who he was. He did look like he could use a friend, though. Which totally wasn't in her job description.

And neither was sleeping with Greg Hicks.

Better stick to work. At least she knew what she was doing there. Mostly.

*  *

Greg stepped out of Daisy's room, pulled the door shut behind him, then leaned against it and closed his eyes.

The queasy feeling he'd been fighting off since he'd entered her room hadn't abated, but now he had a headache to go with it.

He needed some food. He hadn't eaten since a late lunch on the plane and that had been about, oh, nine hours ago.

But he'd forgo food if he could see Sabrina.

Goddamn it.

He'd wanted this shoot to fly under the radar. Now, he didn't know if that was going to be possible. Luckily, he'd already fought some of the battle. He'd managed to track down Neal after nearly five straight hours of phone calls. Then he'd sent Trudeau to get Neal's ass on the first plane to the East Coast. He'd also told her not to leave Neal's side and to make sure he wasn't high as a kite or falling down drunk by the time he got here.

And to please
God
do it as discreetly as possible.

Once he'd assured Daisy that Neal was in one piece and on his way, she'd finally fallen asleep.

And all Greg wanted to do was talk to Sabrina, which made him feel like he'd fallen into a John Hughes movie, if Hughes had written love stories about thirty-somethings instead of teenagers. Then again, he felt like a teenager, complete with raging hormones and a constant hard-on.

There was no way he was going to get any sleep right now, and he had a million little things he should take care of. He should head back to his room and crack open the laptop . . .

He'd punched the button for the lobby before he'd made a conscious decision. When the doors opened, he stepped out of the cage but didn't move out of the alcove. He heard voices. One was definitely Tyler's.

What the hell was he doing down here this late? Had something happened to Sabrina?

He was halfway across the lobby when he saw Tyler talking to another guy. Then he heard Sabrina speak and the new guy answer. Even though his back was to the lobby, Greg could tell the guy was smiling at Sabrina.

And she smiled back.

He wanted to grab the interloper and toss him across the lobby.

Cue the fight scene from
Pretty in Pink.

Jesus, he needed to get a grip.

Instead of heading for the desk, he veered off, ending up in an alcove next to the doors to the atrium.

He forced himself to look out over Tyler's masterwork in horticulture design. Still dressed for Thanksgiving, the atrium would undergo its Christmas transformation next week.

Right now, it still looked fall-like. And a little drab. But that could just be his shitty mood talking, which wasn't getting any better listening to Sabrina try to charm the asshole at the desk.

Could he tell Tyler he didn't want her working any more night shifts until he left? Or would that make him too controlling?

Do you really care?

The real questions were, would Tyler do it and would Sabrina be pissed off if he did.

Maybe he wanted to get her riled. Then get her naked and riled in bed.

“If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask,” he heard Sabrina say.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Sabrina. Hope to see you again.”

Flicking his gaze to the right, Greg could just make out the scene at the desk. He saw Sabrina smiling and saw the guy, who still had his back to Greg, reach over the desk to take the keycard she held out.

Her smile softened as the guy turned to Tyler, who waved a hand toward the elevators.

When the men turned, Greg realized why Sabrina had been smiling.

Sebastian Valenti. Tyler had said the guy was coming to stay for a few weeks. He hadn't said when.

Watching the reflection in the glass windows, Greg saw burnout etched in the guy's face.

Been there, done that.

His attention returned to Sabrina, caught by her compassionate expression.

The girl had a big heart.

And damn it, he wanted it. Wanted her. Wanted all of her attention focused on him.

So what the fucking
hell
was he going to do about it?

Checking the clock on the wall, he realized she still had another three hours to go before her shift was over.

Fuck.

He should go back upstairs. He didn't think she'd seen him yet, so he could slip back down the hall to the second bank of elevators on the other side of the atrium.

Then again, if he stayed here, he had the perfect vantage point to watch her unobserved.

When did you turn into a creeper?

Yeah, he liked to watch but . . .

With Tyler and Sebastian gone, she turned to look at the clock on the wall above the registration desk. Then she sighed. He swore he heard her from here.

Was she tired? Was she wondering why he hadn't contacted her yet? Did she think he wasn't going to?

His phone vibrated.

Yes!

He nearly pumped his fist in the air and did a touchdown dance. Trudeau had Neal. They'd be at the hotel, barring bad weather or a plane crash, in eight hours. And he knew that even if that plane went down, Trudeau would deliver Neal in a full-body cast.

The click of heels made his head snap up, and he saw Sabrina in the glass, walking straight for his hiding spot.

He took a second to examine her features before he turned, trying to guess her mood from her expression so he could be prepared for whatever she threw at him.

She didn't look pissed. No, it was worse. She was wearing her Pleasant Employee face.

“Hello, Greg. Nice to see you again.”

And wow, he really fucking hated that bland smile. It made him want to kiss it off her face. But he wasn't sure she wouldn't punch him in the face if he tried.

“Sabrina.” He thought about what he should say and settled for the truth. “I really fucking missed you, babe.”

Her eyes widened with shock, then her expression softened with pleasure and he knew he'd chosen the right tactic.

In L.A., honesty didn't get you far. But he wasn't in L.A. And Sabrina was no vapid starlet.

“I'm sure you've been busy.”

“You could say that. Still, I'm sorry I didn't text you tonight when I got in. I've been dealing with a . . . situation.”

Her teeth lodged in her lower lip. “I heard Daisy Devlin arrived earlier today.”

Christ, he'd probably be trying to fend off press as soon as tomorrow if the staff was talking. “She did.”

“And there's something wrong with that?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. She came without her husband.”

“And that's a problem?”

He nodded. “Can you sit for a few minutes?”

Her gaze flashed back to the desk. “For a few minutes, sure.”