Throb (11 page)

“Helen, I’m going down to hangar three, call me if I’m not back in a half hour to help me exit.”

She smiles. “Miles is next door in hangar two, shooting some promos. He asked if you could drop by. I’d told him you were packed for the day. But if you’re down there …”

The day just keeps getting better. I’ve avoided anything
Throb
related the last ten days. It still hasn’t gotten Kate out of my head, but at least I can focus on work a little better.

“Can we just talk about it here?” I try not to sound as impatient as I feel. “I have a packed day today, Tatiana.”

“You have to eat,” she purrs, placing the palms of both her hands against my chest.
Yes, but I’d prefer to eat alone.

“It’s important and we”—she looks around the room at all of the waiting staff—“need to talk in private.”

The room full of waiting gaffs and production staff is probably costing me two thousand an hour. I look at my watch. “A quick bite, I need these guys back to work.”

She smiles victoriously. I open the door, allowing Tatiana to pass through first. I take four strides and walk directly into Kate.

And Dickhead.

We both freeze, staring at each other.

“Coop. I thought we were in a rush.” Tatiana quickly moves to my side. She gives Kate the once-over, then wraps her hands possessively around my bicep.

“Kate.” I nod, ignoring Tatiana.

“Cooper,” she says softly. “Ummm … this is Flynn.”

“How’s it going, man?” The longhaired dickhead is oblivious to my scowl.

“Cooper Montgomery.” I nod and squeeze his hand a little too tight when we shake.

Kate looks to Tatiana, who I completely forgot is standing next to me. “This is Tatiana Laroix,” I finally say.

The seconds that follow are awkward. Even more so when Dickhead slings his arm casually around Kate’s shoulder and says, “We were just going to grab a bite to eat.”

My eyes are glued to the arm touching her shoulder. It’s difficult to contain the urge to physically remove it for him. “Us too.” My jaw clenches. “Why don’t you join us?” Kate’s eyes go wide; Tatiana’s grip tightens a little more.

“Sure.” Dickhead shrugs, looking like he doesn’t have a goddamned care in the world.

Lunch turns out to be less uncomfortable than I would have thought. Dickhead tells Tatiana he’s a big fan and the two of them spend the next half hour talking about her favorite subject: Her.

“You should have thrown it the other way,” I say to Kate.

Her eyebrows draw together.

“Salt,” I clarify. “You tried to do it discreetly, but I saw you throw it over your left shoulder a minute ago.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “But why would I throw it the other way?”

“It’s to ward off the devil by throwing it in his eyes, right?”

She wrinkles her nose, still confused at what I’m insinuating.

I point my eyes to Mr. Rock and Roll.

She shakes her head, but stifles a laugh.

“I’ve missed you,” I say quietly.

Her eyes dart to the other side of the table, to Tatiana and Dickhead. But neither one of them are paying attention. Tatiana is busy chewing his ear off about the similarities between filming movies and singing on stage.

“Me too,” she whispers, forlorn in her tone. She forks her lunch around aimlessly on her plate.

“So, can you give us a hint who your favorites are?” Tatiana asks Flynn as the conversation turns to the reality show.

“Nope. Not allowed.” He smiles and winks at Kate.

Knocking out a tooth from his Donny Osmond smile isn’t really an option in a room full of people, so I take the path I much prefer. I slip my hand under the table and rest it on top of Kate’s thigh. Her eyes bulge, but she quickly conceals her surprise. Thank god for skirts.

“Are you and Tatiana working on a project together?” Kate asks, her words falling quickly, nervously.

“We’re almost wrapped. It’s due out in October.
Perfect Sense.
Maybe you’ve heard of it?” Tatiana asks. You’d have to live under a rock to not have heard; the bestselling book is a widely anticipated blockbuster movie.

My hand inches up Kate’s thigh.

“Sure. It looks great.”

Another inch up. I’m midway between her knee and hip.

“How much longer do you have on your show?” I ask Kate.

“A little more than …” My hand slides up another inch and drops from the top of her thigh to the inside.

“Ummm …” She stares at me, then straightens in her seat and blinks a few times. “I’m sorry. What did you ask?”

I grin. And slide my hand up farther. I feel the heat resonate from between her legs now.

“I asked how much longer you have on your show.” I grip the inside of her thigh and pull her legs wider apart. Her breath does a sharp intake that only I seem to notice.

“The show lasts another six weeks.”

“That’s almost as long as it takes to film a movie,” Tatiana interjects.

My hand slides the rest of the way up, lightly skimming the lace edge of her panties. Kate’s eyes close and she takes a deep breath.

My phone rings, forcing me to remove my hand. “Yeah, Helen?”

Helen reminds me I have a meeting this afternoon and that I’ve also requested she call to help me escape if I wasn’t back in a half hour. “Thank you. I’ll be up shortly.”

Tatiana jumps on the opportunity. “Well, that’s my cue. I want a little alone time with Coop before I lose him back to run an empire. I’m sure you understand how hard it is to get alone time around here.” Tatiana winks at Flynn.

A flicker of something ignites in Kate’s eyes. Jealousy?

Flynn stands. “It was nice meeting you both.”

“You too.”
Dickhead.

“Kate. It was good to see you.” I lean down, kiss her cheek and whisper, “My office, ten minutes.”

“Kate.” Miles catches my arm just as Flynn and I approach the entrance to the hangar, returning from lunch. “Joel needs to see you, Flynn. Kate and I have some things to discuss, she’ll meet you inside in a bit.” His tone is dismissive. “Why don’t we go talk in my office?” He asks like it’s a question, but he’s already steering me down the hall.

Not surprisingly, Miles’s office is nothing like his brother’s. It’s the same size and shape, even boasts a similar view, yet everything is exaggerated, rather than understated like Cooper’s. The walls are lined with framed movie posters, shelves are filled with awards and accolades. A round meeting table has a dozen tall piles of manuscripts.

“Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? A cocktail perhaps?”

I look over at the red couch Miles motions to.
Definitely a casting couch.
“No. I’m good. Thank you.”

He pours himself one and joins me, sitting a bit too close. “How is everything going, Kate?”

“Umm … good, I suppose.” I’m not clear on exactly what he’s referring to.

“Flynn really likes you.” He sips his drink, then reaches out and brushes my hair behind my shoulder. “I can see why. You’re a beautiful woman.”

I force a smile, resisting the urge to smack his hand away from me. “Thank you.”

“You seem a bit stressed lately. Things are a little off between you and Flynn. Is there anything I can do to help?” Miles’s leg brushes up against mine and his hand grips my shoulder and rubs.

Instinctively, I lean the other direction, pulling my shoulder from his reach. “I’m fine. I don’t need any help. But thank you.”

Miles gulps from his glass, watching me over the brim as he drinks. His stare makes me uncomfortable, but I stand my ground, not looking away. The glimmer in his eyes changes, the flirty mock caring gone, he squints. “Let me get to the point then. This is scripted reality TV. You and Flynn will get ratings. I need you to be a little friendlier with him.”

“A little friendlier?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure that I do.”

“You’re the gambler, Kate. How much do you think doing what I ask increases your odds of staying on the show?”

Standing, I offer an insincere smile. “Is there anything else?”

He leans back on the couch, swallows the remnants of his glass and grins at me. “I like a woman that knows how to play the game. That will be all.”

Sitting in my Jeep, I inwardly debate one more time before turning the ignition key. It’s been almost an hour since Cooper left lunch. No doubt he’s growing impatient by now. But I just can’t. His hand under the table was enough of a reminder of what that man makes me feel. What I haven’t given Flynn a real chance to make me feel. I can’t give winning my all while I’m anywhere near Cooper Montgomery. A reminder of why I’m doing this show is undoubtedly what I need right now.

The half hour drive does little to clear my head. I’m still thinking about the heat radiating from Cooper’s hand on my thigh as I pull into Mom’s driveway. I take a deep breath and shut my eyes for a full ten minutes before venturing inside.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Mom stands and rolls her portable oxygen tank over to greet me.

“Hi, Mom.” Her color is better, her step quicker; the new tank is definitely working. “You look good. How are you feeling?”

“I feel great.” She’d say the same thing if her oxygen saturation level was below eighty and her organs were quietly shutting down. She never wants me to worry.

“For a change, I believe you.” I grin and kiss her on the cheek. “Kyle at therapy?”

“Yes. He’s doing great with it. There hasn’t been any improvement yet physically. But his spirit is doing so much better. That clinical trial you got him into is the first hope I’ve seen in him since before the accident.” My little brother Kyle and I were always close. Even as kids, when other siblings were busy fighting, we stuck together. But ever since the accident, our lives have bound together tighter. My happiness is no longer singular … it’s codependent on his. Hearing that he is showing any sign of improvement, physical or mental, lifts my heart. I’m already glad I came.

I usually visit twice a week to check in on them, but with the show filming at odd hours, I haven’t been by in ten days. They have almost round-the-clock aides, but I still need to see for myself they’re okay. A friend of mine, Mark, has stopped in to check on them for me and called with reports. He’s a year behind me in school.

“You know, Mark is very handsome. And single.”

“Please tell me you weren’t interrogating Mark again, Mom. We’re just friends. You need to stop trying to fix us up.”

“You need to make more time for a social life. I can’t remember the last time you talked about a man.”
An hour ago I was sitting next to a man I’m dating on national television and had another man’s hand inching up my skirt.

“I’m good, Mom, really. School keeps me busy.” She has no idea I took a year off and decided to try to win the prize on
Throb.
Luckily, none of her friends watch reality TV.

“You find love when you least expect it. Sometimes at the most inconvenient times.”
You can say that again.

We sit and talk for a while, and inevitably the conversation turns to finances. It’s been a consuming topic since Dad died and all of the ugly truths came out. “The bank sent an appraiser over.” She sighs.

“What are you talking about?”