No chance of an adjoining door. Damn shame.
I mean, damn good thing.
“Too bad. I was hoping we could face mask together,” Nolan says, snapping his fingers, aw-shucks style.
It’s a joke, but when he rearranges his expression a second later, he must realize, like I do, that face masks turned out to be foreplay.
His smile disappears.
Mine does too as a fresh burst of want blooms low in my belly.
Yes, good thing we have separate rooms. I steer the conversation to safer shores. “Meet you in the lobby in an hour? So we can head over to Gin Joint?”
“Yes,” he says, and I shut my door.
My room smells fresh and clean, like jasmine and lemongrass.
No embalming clinics here.
Just a big king-size bed all to myself. It’s quiet and mine, all mine.
A little later, I make my way to the lobby to meet Nolan. When I get off the elevator, I do a double take.
Dot and Bette are here too.
In the same hotel, with the same network handler who escorted us over earlier today.
13
There is No Just
Nolan
* * *
“Get your butt over here right now, Nolan McKay!”
Not that I planned on ignoring Bette, but there’s no one on earth who could deny her a hug right now.
Her arms stretch out wide; her smile wraps around the city. She’s decked out in jeans and a San Francisco Hawks jersey with a pink gingham bandana pinning back her dark hair.
I cross the distance in the lobby, and she sweeps me up in a hug. “What the heck are you doing here, you cuties?”
Funny, I could ask the same of her and Dot.
And I’m dying to know.
The platinum blonde turns to me, parks her hands on her hips. “Exactly! To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you sweeties again?” Her blue eyes swing around the lobby, landing on Emerson, right beside me.
There are more hugs, then James darts aside with a quick excuse me as he whips his phone from his pocket. Guess he won’t be giving any answers.
“Webflix picked up our show,” Emerson says brightly.
Dot’s jaw drops.
Bette claps. “That is so fantastic. I’m so stinking happy for you. We got a show too. Can you believe it? Maybe we’ll all be TV stars,” Bette says, adding jazz hands.
A throat clears. “Dot. It’s getting late. You need to get to sleep soon.” It’s the boss. Evelyn’s telling it like it is, ordering her grandma and her grandma’s friend around. The girl in fishnets and motorcycle boots seemed to just appear out of thin air. Maybe she’s magic. I wouldn’t be surprised.
“Sleep, yes, but what I also need is a nightcap. On the rocks. And a cup of cocoa for you, Ev,” Dot says.
The teen rolls her eyes. Because of course she rolls her eyes.
“And the first photoshoot is at ten in the morning,” Evelyn continues, then nods at me, then Emerson. “Good to see you two again.”
“And you. But . . .” My brow narrows, and I try to figure out how Evelyn’s pulling this off. “Don’t you have school?”
She stares at me, her eyes saying duh. “Zoom. Obvs.”
“Right. Obvs,” I echo.
Evelyn ushers Dot and Bette away, and Emerson and I leave the midtown hotel in a flurry, furtively glancing behind us as we push through the revolving doors.
Once we’re out on the street, Emerson tugs my elbow, yanks me farther away, her finger on her lips.
“I don’t think they can hear us now,” I say out of the side of my mouth.
“You never know,” she says, then when we’re around the corner, she stops, flaps an arm in the direction of the skyscraper hotel. “What’s going on? Something is up.”
She sounds wildly suspicious, and maybe I should be too, but I want us to focus on our show, not on nefarious subplots we’ll never untangle. “Looks like they got picked up too. I’m guessing Webflix is on a buying binge for food shows?” I suggest. That makes as much sense as anything. “We just have to do what we came here to do.”
With her jaw set hard, Emerson seems determined to get to the bottom of it. “But both of us? At the same time? And we were together with them on YouTube.” She lifts a skeptical brow. “It feels like something is going on.”
I wouldn’t bet against her, but I don’t know who’s bluffing and who’s not. “Look, we don’t know. But we’re in New York again, and we have a meeting with the executive tomorrow. For tonight, let’s see the crew.”
That was my idea. Did I also arrange to get together with friends on our first night here for a particular reason?
Yes. Yes, I did.
The way I see it is the more time I spend with Emerson in a group, with cameras, with everyone around us, the less tempted I’ll be to get her alone, back her against the door of 1208, dip my face to the soft skin of her neck, and tease her with my tongue and mouth.