“Hi, Lana,” Darla said, leaving off the “nice to see you again” because Darla tried really hard to stay sincere in a business that tended toward the opposite direction. Her gaze drifted back to Blake’s, to his clean-shaven jaw. The skin of her stomach and leg tingled where that stubble had grazed her earlier, taunting her with how intimately exposed she was to this man, and this table, if he chose to betray her.
“Nice to meet you, Darla.”
Darla inhaled and greeted another judge sitting to Lana’s left. Jason Alright was a sexy thirtysomething Vegas producer who’d been a favorite of the viewers’ last season, especially with the female audience.
The fourth and final judge was Ellie Campbell, who was about Darla’s age and one of the hottest choreographers in the business. Ellie, who had pink hair tonight, was known for frequent, unique hair color choices and hip street-style clothing. She sat at the far end of the table, but quickly appeared at Darla’s side to offer a friendly introduction. Darla liked Ellie instantly and as Jason joined the conversation, she found him quite likable, as well. Everyone got along with Blake, she noticed.
A number of crew members chimed their greetings to Darla. There were some friendly, familiar faces Darla was glad to see. And she told herself this distraction was good. There was no time, or room, for Blake to fit in more about their “deal.” But she’d fit it in all right. She and Blake were going to have a good heart-to-heart, sooner rather than later.
“I’m so excited to see you again,” Lana continued after everyone settled back into their own conversations. “You went from casting to your own show. Impressive, Darla. You’re rocking showbiz.”
It was a sticky-sweet compliment lacking sincerity and laced with a chill. “And on that note,” Darla said, feeling the ball and chain of performance pressure tugging at her, she lifted her hand to flag a waiter. “Can I get a dessert menu?”
“What about dinner?” Blake asked.
She gave him a pointed look. “I have a sudden urge to go straight to the heavy stuff.”
“The camera adds ten pounds,” Lana sweetly reminded them.
“Good thing tonight will only be worth about a pound of that ten,” Darla said, accepting a menu from the waiter. “Because I fully intend to indulge.”
“I said it earlier,” Blake chimed in. “And I’ll say it again. I’m so glad I’m a man. We really don’t give a damn about a pound or ten.”
He’d changed his shirt to a dark blue collar tee with a studio logo and he wore it like he wore the room—casual and comfortable. He had this cool air of confidence about him that screamed of being comfortable in his own skin, never rattled or out of his element, and she envied him that.
“What did I say that merited an urgent request for dessert?” Lana asked, laughing. “Surely, you aren’t nervous. You have a show and an audience of your own.”
Darla could play coy and cool with Lana, but that just wasn’t her style. “I have a show and an audience,” she agreed. “But not a prime time show with millions and millions of viewers. That audience is going to expect this season to be better than the last, and with me being the newbie, I’ll be under the microscope.”
“And hearing you talk about the viewers wanting this season to be better than the last makes me want a big fat dessert, too,” Meagan said, nudging Darla’s menu closer so that she could see what was on offer. “I keep thinking that what goes up must come down and we have to get off the ride before it does. Go out gracefully, with style, and on our own terms. And with some reality show kind of twist.”
“Hearing you talk about the program ending is only making me more worried,” Darla said. “At least your job is secure.”
“Oh, please,” Meagan pleaded. “You’ll be great and everyone will love you.”
“We hope,” Darla replied. “We both know there is no certainty in this business.”
“You two are not good for each other,” Blake said, moving a finger between Meagan and Darla and then lifting his chin at Sam. “I just spent hours on a plane with Darla from New York and she freaks herself out enough. Together, it’s clear that they are dangerous to each other’s sanity.”
“And everyone around them,” Sam readily agreed.
“We need to have Darla and Lana change seats,” Blake suggested, “so there’s some distance between Darla and Meagan.”
Was he really trying to jockey for her to sit next to him? And did he really think that wasn’t obvious? Darla gave Blake an incredulous look and kicked him under the table.
“Ouch!” Lana screamed. “Someone just kicked me.” She rubbed her leg. “Who did that?”
Darla’s eyes went wide. Blake burst out laughing. Meagan looked between Darla and Blake, then to Lana, and immediately turned to her husband. “Sam,” Meagan scolded. “I told you to be careful with those big, long legs of yours.”