Reel (Hollywood Renaissance 1)

“Monk’s on his way, too,” Evan says, glancing up from his phone. “He texted me. He was in a session, but he wants to see you.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here if it weren’t for Monk dragging Canon to see me in Splendor.”

“Things happen like they should, I guess.”

I’m not sure I’ve believed that in a long time. The things that hurt you most—it’s sometimes hard to accept that those are the result of fate or a deity’s deliberation. Much easier to believe the universe means us good, and good will prevail. Either way, I’ll always be grateful for Monk’s role in getting me here.

“This is actually my sister’s place,” Evan continues. “Well, stepsister.”

“This place belongs to your sister? Uh, stepsister?”

“Her family owns the hotel and the rooftop is kind of her pet project.”

“Some pet. This place is gorgeous.”

“It’s even better when it’s empty. It doesn’t open ’til five, so occasionally she lets us up here before the madness starts. Can’t beat a gorgeous view of the city and the best mimosas in town.”

“Nice. You said she’s your stepsister. How long have your parents been married?”

“Oh, they’re not anymore. That particular marriage only lasted about nine months. My father is, shall we say, indecisive. He just remarried again.” Evan raps his knuckles against the table. “Knock on wood, sixth time’s the charm.”

“Six? Wow. Is she your only stepsibling?”

“I have . . .” He counts on his fingers and squints. “Twelve.”

I laugh and gape at him. “How do you keep up?”

“I just start calling them by reindeer names,” Evan says, flashing an unabashed grin. “Growing up, there were only a few I actually lived with or got to know. Arietta and I stayed in touch even after our parents parted ways. I’m closest to her.”

“No blood siblings?”

“One half-brother. My father wasn’t married to my mother much longer than he was to Ari’s.” He grins over my shoulder. “Look who’s here.”

I glance toward the door, my stomach flipping at the sight of Canon. I was braced for standard fine-ass Canon, but wearing a dark gray suit with a slate blue button-up open at the collar, he is not playing fair tonight. The sun is not quite gone for the evening, so he still wears sunglasses as he scours the rooftop for us.

What in the GQ is happening right now?

I’m not sure what to do with this buzz transported through my blood like oxygen and dispatched to my tingling extremities. This low hum of attraction that thickens the air when I’m around him under the best of circumstances. Him showing up looking like this? Not optimal.

And then I notice her.

Accompanying him is a woman beside whom every one of these glittering diamonds appears a little dull. Large, dark soulful eyes and long black hair that clings to her bare arms and shoulders. The kind of breakneck curves you find on a race track and a white, wide smile revealed when she laughs up at Canon, her arm looped through his elbow.

Heifer.

I have no right to this auto-petty response, and seeing that impossibly beautiful woman with Canon . . . it shouldn’t affect me. We have nothing more than a business relationship. He hasn’t given me reason to think differently. There are a hundred obvious reasons why me plus him would equal bad, but I don’t like seeing him with her. I’ll have to sort through this on my own time in the privacy of my hotel room. For now, let me paint on a plastic smile and pretend I don’t want to pull this woman’s hair out.

Again, I. Have. No. Right.

“Look who I found,” the woman practically purrs when they reach our table.

I hate her voice. It’s all deep and sexy and pleasant. Yuck.

“About time,” Evan says, standing and hugging her. “We were starting to worry.”

“Event went a little over,” Canon says. “Sorry I’m late.” His eyes meet mine briefly then flick away. “Enjoying yourself, Neevah?”

“I am,” I reply, my voice sounding unnaturally high and breathy, a la Marilyn Monroe.

“The place is jumping tonight.” Evan kisses her cheek and sits back down.

“I know,” she says with a slight accent. “I need to check in with the staff, but I had to meet the woman who finally managed to satisfy Canon.”

She turns those beautiful dark eyes on me and extends her hand. “I’m Arietta, Evan’s sister. I’m so glad they finally found you. So nice to meet you.”

Evan’s sister. Of course.

“Hi.” I shake her hand, maybe a little too vigorously. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Canon and Arietta take their seats and I remind myself I cannot stare at this man all night. Not any part of the night actually. I train my eyes on my drink and try to become invisible.

“So, Neevah, what was your impression of Trey?” Canon asks.

Well, that didn’t work.

“I thought he was great,” I say.