Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty 3)

“Hey, Mom.” I answer the phone, walking back to the office and enjoying the little heat that I’ve had today.

“Hey, sunshine.” I smile when she uses my childhood nickname. “Just calling to check in.” My mother was a single mom, always. She and my father were never together really. They had a relationship of sorts, but nothing that would stick, and they were both okay about it. When my mother found out she was pregnant, she said she was keeping me, and it was up to my father if he wanted to be involved because she was not going to force me on him.

I guess I got lucky because my father accepted it with an open mind. He was always in my life, and he supported my mother and me very well. At first, we grew up in a two-bedroom condo near the beach in Florida, and slowly, we moved up to a house, which she refuses to leave. It’s right on the beach, and she wants to keep it in case I want to move home. Was I close to my father? I mean, I was as close as I can be to a person who would visit on the holidays. He was there for some birthdays and some not. I was always okay with it because my mother made sure I never doubted I was loved. Not for one minute. Growing up, she would date but only casually and in passing and never brought any man home.

When I got accepted to the college of my choice, it was bittersweet. I would be leaving her, and I dreaded that, but she never made me feel guilty about it. My father ended up covering my whole tuition and still paid my mother every month. He also never had any kids, nor did he have women. I mean, I know he had women, but none that he brought home to me or introduced me to.

“Mom, you don’t have to keep checking in with me,” I tell her with a smile. She wasn’t just my mother; she was really my best friend. “You could just call to see what I’m doing.”

“Okay, fine.” She laughs. “What’s new?”

“Have you spoken to Dad?” I ask her, knowing why she is calling. “I spoke to him last night so I know that you know.”

“I do know, and I did,” she says. I hear the waves in the background, so I know she’s sitting out on the deck watching the sun go down.

“Sorry, it got late, and by the time I looked at the clock, it was already midnight your time,” I tell her. I smile, walking into the lobby. “Mom, I am not sure I can do this.”

“Oh, please,” my mother starts, “if anyone can do anything, it’s you.”

“You are saying that because you are my mom,” I tell her, pressing the button to the elevator.

“No, I’m telling you this because it’s the truth. If you want it, you will get it. You have never backed down from a fight.” Her voice is calm, and I suddenly miss her.

“Mom, this isn’t high school where someone called me a name,” I tell her and step in the elevator. “It’s a big deal.”

“I know it is,” she says. “It’s a dream job, and one you’ve been talking about since you decided this was what you wanted to do.”

“I just don’t want to let anyone down,” I say, my voice low even though I’m by myself in the elevator.

“Honey, as long as you give it everything you have, there is no way you can let anyone down.” The elevator pings, and I walk out, almost crashing into a man who walked out of the other elevator. His hands hold both of my hands before I crash into him and spill the coffee.

“Oh my gosh,” I say softly. The warmth of his hands on my arm makes me look up, and I think I stop breathing. His smell of musk hits me right away. I can’t see his eyes because he’s wearing aviator glasses, but even with them on, I know who this man is. His brown hair looks like he just stepped out of the shower and ran his hands through it, and I think he actually did. A smile starts to come over his face; the famous smirk that graces all the magazine covers.

“Sorry, sugar,” he says, and his voice comes out smooth.

“Erin, are you okay?” I hear my mother’s voice through the phone that is still up to my ear.

“I have to go,” I say to her and bring my hand down. He slowly lets my arms go. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I say and then turn to walk away before I openly gawk at him.

“If you weren’t a sight to see from the front, you’re an even better sight to see leaving,” he says when I walk away, and I halt in my steps, turning now and taking him in. Twelve hours ago, he had a redhead on his arm, and now he’s looking for a date tonight. He’s wearing blue jeans rolled at the hem that fall over his brown boots. A tattered leather jacket covers his black shirt. “Listen, I have a meeting, but how about we take off when I’m done?” He walks to me as I stand here watching him. “Why don’t you just sit here and wait, and when I come back out, we can take off?”