Hidden Hollywood

He groaned and rolled onto his back. He wished she’d stop calling him that. The Josh thing was dimming the awesome. “You too,” he said hoarsely.

She rolled to her side and rubbed his chest. “How long until you can do it again?”

He smiled sleepily in the dark. “Wake me in an hour.” Then he conked out.

She woke him as promised. Twice more that night, both times sliding a condom onto him, climbing on board, and riding him hard. He fucking loved it. She was wild and free and just as into it as he was. Just as the sun was coming up, he zonked out in the sleep of the dead.

When he woke hours later, she was gone.

He sat up, an inkling of dread coursing through him. She wouldn’t really leave without saying goodbye, would she? Not after that amazing night.

“Jenny?” he called. He got out of bed and checked the bathroom. Nothing. Did a quick check of the room for any sign of her. She really had left without saying goodbye. He didn’t have her number. That couldn’t be the end. That night meant something. So raw and real and passionate.

He snagged his cell and Googled her. There was no Jenny Coleman in Connecticut. He tried New York. He found a masseuse that didn’t look anything like Jenny. He clicked through several more searches and found nothing close to her looks or location. He didn’t know the name of her business. He didn’t know anything about her except that she was in the book club. He’d text Josh for the info. Should’ve thought of that first.

He started to type and stopped himself. Maybe Jenny really only wanted one night. She had reminded him of that during their hike. She had a life here. His life was in California.

He put his cell away and told himself to put Jenny out of his mind. It was fun. End of story.

He snagged his clothes from the floor and sank heavily onto the bed. It smelled like sex. It smelled like Jenny. The feel of her satiny smooth skin, the sound of her moans, her taste, her tight, welcoming body. How was he supposed to forget that?

He dressed and then he just sat there, elbows on his knees, debating texting Josh for her number. He wanted to see her again. It wasn’t often he connected with a woman like that—the passion between them, the easy conversation on their hike. Her open down-to-earth way of talking. Her throaty sexy voice. Her curvy sweet-smelling body.

He quickly texted Josh. His brother didn’t know her number, but said he’d find out. Hours later, Josh had nothing. No phone number, no work info, no link to her at all.

She couldn’t have vanished, could she?

Chapter Seven

Claire had regrets. Her regrets had regrets. A never-ending chain of why did I ever agree to meet Josh regrets because now she couldn’t get the man out of her head.

She returned to work, quickly inundated with demands for her attention, yet Josh kept coming back to her in flashes of memory. His smile that crinkled his warm brown eyes. His gentlemanly manners that, thankfully, went out the window once they got to the bedroom. His kisses that made her dizzy with lust. She worked long hours with no downtime in a futile effort to stop thinking about Josh. Finally on Friday, she got a welcome distraction, a text from Hailey inviting her to a book club meeting that night. Yes. This was what she needed. More time with her new friends. But then another text came through, making her grip the cell phone tighter.

Josh wants to see Jenny again.

She knew she should say no. It wouldn’t be fair to Josh to continue the lie. And, if she told him the truth, he’d be angry that she’d pretended. An angry scorned lover was not what the Claire Jordan image needed. He could do serious damage in the press. She wished there were some way she could see him again. Dammit. She texted Hailey back.

No time for Jenny date. Very busy. I can only manage book club.

Same place, same time?

That works for me.

Ciao!

Claire smiled. Ciao.

Work dragged the rest of the afternoon probably because she couldn’t wait to meet up with everyone back in the hotel lounge. It seemed like everything and everyone was against her getting there. Blake was throwing a hissy fit about his hairdresser being out sick. The new girl, who Claire thought did just as good a job, was nervous, which made her take longer, which pissed Blake off, making the poor girl more nervous. And even though Claire switched him to her guy, Blake’s irritation lingered, bleeding into his performance, making what should have been a tender scene between him and Mia into something with an edge that would only confuse the audience. On top of that, the circuit in the kitchen blew out when one of their camera operators plugged in a coffeemaker. At least that was just a matter of resetting the circuit breaker in the basement and figuring out, by trial and error, which outlets could hold the load of cameras, lights, monitors, and laptops.