Ty approached, a bulkier inked version of Josh. Now that she’d seen the brothers together, all she could see was Josh when she looked at Ty. The deep brown eyes, the angle of his cheekbones, the athletic grace of his body. She’d spent the morning with Ty yesterday when she’d supervised the exterior shots of Damon tearing it up on his motorcycle. For some reason, her knees locked, bracing for bad news.
Relax, she told herself. He probably wanted to ask her a question. After the dinner scene, Damon, played by Ty for the stunt, would take off on his bike in a fury and spin out on the edge of the circular driveway.
She turned and pasted on a smile.
Ty smiled back. “Hey, Claire, thanks for meeting my brothers. It meant a lot to them.”
“Of course.”
Blake looked over and raised a brow. “I thought this was a closed set.”
“Crew can meet off set for lunch if their guest gets security clearance,” Claire replied. Craft services was far enough away from filming to keep a closed set, and she’d learned that a happy crew always made filming easier. Over the last three films, hiring many of the same crew, they’d developed a level of trust. No one had taken advantage of the privilege. Most of the time, there were no guests.
“I’ll be you out there on the bike,” Ty told Blake. “Stunt double.”
“Make me look good,” Blake said.
Ty grinned and raised his palms like it was a given. He turned to Claire, gave her a pointed look, and said, “Josh knows who went on that date.”
Her stomach dropped. Shit. He knew it was her. It was only a matter of time before he sold the story to the highest bidder. Claire Jordan in disguise. Claire Jordan drunk in the woods. Claire Jordan in a seedy one-night stand. Or, worse, Claire and Blake on the rocks, what did this mean for Damon and Mia? Her movie would be sunk. The buzz on Damon and Mia killed. She swallowed down the bile in her throat.
“Who’s Josh?” Blake asked.
Ty slipped away.
Blake was saying something to her, but her hearing dimmed as a ringing went through her ears. She stumbled to a dining room chair and sat down. Sweat broke out on her upper lip. She dropped her head in her hands, dizzy and hoping she didn’t pass out. She heard a commotion and the next thing she knew her assistant was insisting she drink a glass of water.
She lifted her head to find everyone staring at her with a look of concern. Except Blake, who almost looked pleased, like he wanted to see her taken down a peg. It was that smirking look on Blake’s face that made her pull it together.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I skipped lunch and got a little light-headed. Won’t make that mistake again.” She often ate alone in her trailer, so no one would doubt her white lie. She took in the fruit bowl. “Looks like we’re all set. Diane, thanks for your keen eye. Let’s get back to work.”
She took a drink of water, and before she could set it down, her assistant whisked it away. She stood, stronger now and focused. No one could put her off her game. She’d deal with Josh later.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. She was on edge the rest of the day, which she funneled into the emotional scene between her and Damon where Damon suspects Mia of having a secret, of possibly betraying him. Yeah, she knew a little about that, though she feared Josh would be the one betraying her.
On a brief break, she texted Hailey to arrange a meeting with Josh. She needed to talk to him face-to-face and find out exactly what he planned to do with this information. She told Hailey to send him to the private lounge where the book club met. No way was she inviting him to her suite. Because while she’d been pretending as Jenny, there was no doubt that the chemistry they had was very real. The last thing she needed was to fall into bed with him a second time as herself. She’d only be getting herself in deeper, exposing much more than she could risk.
Her life was becoming the kind of melodrama she acted out on the big screen.
She wasn’t at all surprised to hear back a short while later that Josh was willing to meet. Anyone in his position would. He’d probably walk in with his hand out. She wasn’t averse to paying him not to talk. It would save her a lot of headache in the long run. Things would get stickier if he had photos. She hadn’t seen him take pictures, but who knew what he had done when she was sleeping. It had happened before.
Finally the appointed time arrived. She stepped into the lounge, took a seat at the long table, and waited. She wanted a table between them. This was a negotiation and she would do better with some distance. Her bodyguard had instructions, along with a photo provided by Hailey, to escort him in. Hailey had texted her a few times, apologizing profusely for the date gone wrong, but she didn’t blame her. It was her own silly longing to feel normal again. That wasn’t who she was anymore.