Molly angled her head at the other woman. “I don’t understand.”
An incisive look. “The way you look at Fox, the way you touch him, you care about him.”
Befuddled by the statement of the obvious and a little annoyed at Kathleen’s continued questioning of her and Fox’s relationship, she said, “Why else would I follow him halfway across the world?”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” Kathleen blew out a breath. “The thing is, in this business… let’s just say I’ve learned to be careful who I trust. Fox’s always been good at looking after himself, but then he turns up with you after a vacation.”
Molly kept her silence, giving Kathleen a chance to talk.
“It made me wonder what your angle was. Only I don’t think you have one.” The actress looked nonplussed. “Either that, or you’re a better actress than I’ll ever be.”
“Not a chance.” Putting down the uneaten part of her burger, Molly took another sip of water. “Fox is the only reason I’m here—he’s become my home,” she said simply. “I don’t need anything else.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” Kathleen rolled her own water bottle in her hands. “I should’ve twigged when Abe mentioned how the guys end up at your and Fox’s place more often than not for a jam session these days. They used to alternate between houses a lot more. Now he says it feels like your place is home.”
Molly had had no idea Abe felt that way, he said so little. “Thank you for telling me, and thank you for reaching out.”
“I did it to get some dirt so I could open Fox’s eyes about you.”
Molly laughed at the other woman’s disgruntled expression. “I know.”
“Shit.” Kathleen shoved her hand through her already tousled hair. “Now we have to be friends. You’re going to need me to teach you how to navigate these shark-infested waters.” She leaned forward. “Rule one—nice people get eaten alive.”
“Should I take notes?” Molly asked lightly, even as her stomach turned at the reminder she existed in a different world now, one run on rules she didn’t understand.
Kathleen smiled, and this time, it wasn’t as perfect, but was much more real. “Don’t worry. I’ve got the guidebook.” She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Kit.”
Seven days after the tentative beginnings of her friendship with Kit, and Molly didn’t know what she was doing at a swanky New York party filled with tattooed rock stars other than her own, award-winning actors, actresses, and directors, “money people,” assorted plus-ones like Molly, and beautiful swimsuit models with boobs out to there and legs up to their ears.
“Stereotypes,” she muttered under her breath.
Fox leaned close. “What?”
“I’m reminding myself I shouldn’t judge anyone until I meet them.” She brushed a speck of dust off the shoulder of his black shirt with intricate black-on-black detailing along one side—which he’d worn in place of his usual tee because he’d overheard her talking to Charlotte about how men in suits were hot. She’d been teasing Charlie about T-Rex, but Fox had been adorably jealous.
When she’d pointed out how cute he was being, she’d ended up naked.
Now he was as gorgeous and as charismatic as usual, his version of a “suit”—the fitted short-sleeved shirt worn over a pair of well-loved jeans—unbelievably hot. In Fox’s case, she thought, the clothes very definitely didn’t make the man, the man made the clothes. “Though,” she added in a whisper, “it’s really, really difficult to accept that the twenty-five-year-old stunner is with the seventy-five-year-old lech out of true love.”
“What a cynic.” Fox’s lips curved, his hand sliding to her butt, possessive as hell. “A sexy cynic.”
Feeling her face heat, she tugged at his wrist, though his smile had melted her bones. “Fox.”
He kept his hand where it was, stroking her through the tight red pencil skirt he’d bought her, and which she had to agree made her body look smokin’. “I love it when you blush.”
“I’m going to kill you,” she threatened sotto voce as one of the besuited record executives came over. The man oozed oily sincerity, but for some reason, Molly liked him. Short and with a balding hairline, he reminded her of a friend of a friend—Ken was a sweet guy, but he wanted so badly to be liked that he went over the top with it.
Now Fox was noncommittal to the point of looking bored with this “Ken’s” conversational overtures. Molly did her best, but the man slunk away with a big fake smile a couple of minutes after he’d arrived. “Fox, that was rude.” It shocked her to see this side of him—the arrogant ass**le star.
“Do you know how many guys like that circle around me and the others? Fucking vultures. They want us to jump labels or for one of us to leave the band, go solo, make money for them.” Scowling, he took a swig out of the beer bottle in his right hand. “If I was just some poor schmuck who wanted him to talk to me, I’d be lucky to get a ‘piss off.’ I wouldn’t even exist.”
Molly closed her mouth before she could say the words that wanted to come out. Fox knew these people far better than she did. But the way he’d spoken, he didn’t sound like the man she’d fallen for.
A squeeze around her waist. “Hey, sorry.” He nuzzled a kiss to her temple. “Band got kicked around a bit back at the start. Men like that tried to cheat us into signing lousy contracts when it became clear we were developing a following. Guess it’s a sore spot.”