One Night (Superstars in Love 2)

And he sounded absolutely pathetic. Enough of the pity train he’d boarded.

Shaking his head, he forced his mind from her haunting eyes and bewitching smile. He couldn’t afford to think about her right now. He had spent his whole bloody day worrying about what her reaction would be once she saw him onstage. Trying to decide if she already regretted last night.

Once she saw him up on that stage, she probably would—if she didn’t already. Not only did he lie to her, but she had already told him she didn’t like surprises. And him being Marius definitely fell under the “surprise” category. Right now he needed to focus on the show. He checked his cell and flinched. Three minutes.

He better get off his arse and move.

He took one final breath, then the door opened. It was the lead prostitute he thought he’d knocked down in the alley last night. “I just ran into Jenny. She asked me to tell you that it’s time for you to come out.”

Jenny was the stage manager, so it made this all the more realistic. Time to go on stage. “All right. I’m on my way.”

She sauntered inside his room, her hips swinging. Her low cut prostitute costume left little to the imagination, and she bent down to show him even more. Trailing a finger down his chest, she straightened his cravat for him. “Afterwards, we can get a drink to celebrate your success, if you’d like.”

He fought the urge to tell her to bugger off. It wasn’t her fault he was in a foul mood. “I’ll probably just go home and sleep. But thank you.”

She dipped her hand lower. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Justin halted her hand before it reached his waistband, but smiled at her to soften the blow. He hadn’t been interested before, and he definitely wasn’t interested now. She had the wrong hair color. He wanted blonde. Her eyes were blue instead of green. And she wasn’t a serious businesswoman who never seemed to be able to relax until he made her …

Bloody hell, she wasn’t Lexi.

“You go on ahead of me. I’ll be out in a jiffy.”

She left him alone, a pout on her full lips. He checked the microphone taped to his forehead one last time, praying the nervous sweat wouldn’t wash it away, then stood. His eighteenth century collar dug into his neck, but he couldn’t loosen it. His costume designer would pitch a bigger hissy fit than a three-year-old leaving a candy store empty handed. Hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway.

Showtime.

***

Lexi settled into her seat in the first row and took a sip of her Merlot. They only allowed the expensive bar cups with lids into the theater, but she didn’t care how much it cost because she needed all the help she could get to survive this show. She almost skipped it, but then the image of her forlorn pregnant, bedridden sister popped into her head—and the guilt could not be denied.

So she came despite the fear of running into Justin outside the theater again.

She certainly didn’t come so she could search the shadows for Justin … even though she did exactly that right now. Not like it mattered, anyway. Even if he saw her, he would avoid her. They had a one-night stand and nothing else. They’d agreed on a night of distraction, and they’d both followed through with their end of the agreement.

She was the one who imagined that it could be more, that he could be the one to fill that emptiness in her life, that he could be the one she could share her life with. Stupid imagination, swooping in and ruining it all.

Scanning the area above the stage, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was up there somewhere, watching her. Even if he was, would he be able to see her from his perch? She wished she had thought to ask him where he worked. For all she knew, he was off to the left staring at her. Would he be happy to see her, or would he hide in the shadows to avoid an awkward confrontation?

Someone sat beside her, and she scooted over, dropping her Playbill on the floor. Though she debated picking it up, she decided not to bother. She didn’t want to read it, and she would pick it up before she left.

“You actually came?” a deep voice asked.

Lexi choked on her drink, turning to face her brother-in-law. “Max? What are you doing here?”

He slapped his Playbill facedown on his lap and sighed. “Jessie wanted me to keep you company today. She’s worried you’ll be lonely. And so am I.”

“Lonely? Nah.” After all, last night she hadn’t been lonely. She’d been blissfully happy up until she left Justin’s side. Lexi laughed, smoothing her black skirt over her legs. “I’m okay.”

“Are you?” Max raised a brow, searching her face. “You look tired, little sis.”

She swallowed hard. He’d been around since she was ten, and he could read her way too well for her to bother with lying. “I am tired. And sad. And confused. But I’m fine.”

“Why are you confused?”

Of course he latched on to that part of her sentence—the one part she hadn’t really meant to admit. The lights dimmed, and the orchestra started up. Saved by the bell—er, show. She leaned closer and squeezed his knee. “I’m okay. Or, I’ll be okay once this torture is over.”