He rolled his eyes. “You’d have to pry it from my hands first. No, that’s not it. You see…my dad’s business and mine are converging in a limelight moment. His movie and my client’s wedding. I need to get a handle on the messaging ahead of the news and manage it to the best of my ability. I’d never heard of you before in my life and suddenly, you’re everywhere.”
“I am?”
“Yes!” Charlie huffed impatiently. “First I bumped into you in Dad’s kitchen at an ungodly hour; then your headshot was on Trish’s desk. And afterward, as I was walking to my car, Les le Grandeur, a casting director for one of the studio’s teeny-bopper shows, said he spotted you leaving Matteo’s last night with my father. He thought you were Dad’s bodyguard until he was instructed to hire you for his show. Now do you see the problem?”
I thought about it for a beat and shook my head. “No.”
Charlie bristled. “Are you an actor or a bodyguard? People are going to want to know about you.”
I pointed at my chest meaningfully. “Why?”
“Because they’ll want to know what went wrong. How does a guy like Sebastian Rourke go from partners like Gray Robertson, a famous songwriter and musician, and Rita Marten, a famous producer and screenwriter in her own right…to a waiter at a Mexican restaurant?”
“Hey!”
Charlie set his hand over mine, seemingly unperturbed when I immediately pulled away. “I’m sorry. It’s delicate, and I don’t mean to insult you. But surely you can see my dilemma.”
“No, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” I shifted to face him, lowering my voice as I continued. “Look, I admit I was hoping your father could help me out, but I—”
“So you used him,” he accused, slapping his hand on the table.
“He used me too!”
Charlie gasped. “Ew! That’s my dad you’re talking about. Cease and desist. Do not continue!”
I rolled my eyes, glancing up as a party of five entered. Juan seated them in Macy’s section next to the lovey-dovey couple and across from two businessmen in the midst of a heated conversation. Macy was killin’ it while I was being hassled by a hookup’s grown-ass son for reasons I couldn’t comprehend.
“You know what? This has been fun, but I’m not sure what you want and you’re costing me tips. Have a good night, Char—”
He tugged at my wrist. “Don’t take the part.”
“You mean the security guard with no lines part? Are you nuts? Of course, I’m taking it.” I huffed. “I may not win an Academy Award for this one, but working for the studio is good for my portfolio.”
“That makes sense,” he agreed, nibbling his lower lip thoughtfully. “How much does it pay?”
“No idea. I’m supposed to talk to the casting—”
“Oh, my goodness. I have a genius idea!” Charlie gasped theatrically and covered his mouth. “I’ll hire you.”
“To do what?” I put my hand up and stood abruptly. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. It was nice to see you again. Enjoy the margarita.”
Charlie threw a few twenties on the table and squeezed out of the booth, draping the strap from his computer bag across his chest. He looked like a runway model for hip menswear by a designer who let a posse of kindergartners choose the color palette. I had to admire a guy with the balls to wear patterned slacks with red loafers.
“No, no. This is good. Work for me for six months. I’ll put you on the payroll as a…” He snapped his fingers and tapped his temple as if hoping to knock a good idea loose.
“Oh, this should be good,” I snarked.
“Shh. I’m thinking.”
“Don’t tax yourself. I’m gonna stick to my plan and—”
“A bodyguard!”
“What? For who?”
“I don’t know, but that seems to be the rumor on the forefront, so let’s go with it. I have a staff of them for my bands. What’s one more?”
“Thanks, but—”
“Don’t mention it. This is good for both of us. I’ll provide a temporary source of income for you, and you’ll be a write-off for Scratch Records. Win-win.”
I really wasn’t sure where to begin. “Temporary income?”
“Yes, for six months…or until after the wedding.” Charlie spun on his heels, opening his right arm like a benevolent fairy godmother. “You can still work here, obviously. If that’s something you enjoy.”
“Uh…”
“But you couldn’t take on any acting jobs. At all. On the upside…I pay very well.” He paused to throw out an astronomical salary, adding, “Think about it. Here’s my card.”
I took the card and stared at it incredulously.
“Why?”
“I already explained my precarious balancing act.”
“Okay, but I don’t get it. What am I missing? What do you have to hide? Is this a cover for some illegal shit? ’Cause I gotta tell ya, I might look like I’d be up for some mayhem, but I’m actually a law-abiding citizen. I pay my taxes on time, and I haven’t gotten so much as a parking ticket in ages.”