I couldn’t think of a single reason why he would want to have a conversation with me, but I was semi-curious, even more so because I hoped it had something to do with work.
“Were you about to go into the ladies’ room?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Then, I’ll go with you. I know the cameras aren’t allowed in there.”
Before my brain could even think of a response, his hand was on my back again, and we were moving into the restroom. Once we were inside, I reached into my dress and turned down my microphone. The show allowed for privacy during bathroom breaks, so this was something I would normally do anyway.
He checked the stalls, each door unlocked and open. “Good. We’re alone.” He closed the distance between us, leaving less than a foot. “I know that won’t last for long, so I’ll be quick. Kendall, I’d really like to take you out. Not when there’s cameras following you or when there’s paparazzi tailing us. Just me and you, in a restaurant off the grid, where we can talk and get to know each other.”
I was sure the shock was registering on my face, his suggestion the last thing I’d expected.
“I’m sorry …” I took a breath. “I’m just a little surprised.”
“I can tell. Why?”
“I don’t know.” I glanced around the small room, trying to get my thoughts straight. “I guess I assumed this had something to do with your show or mine or something like it in the future.”
He laughed, moving a little closer. “That would come from my agent, not me.” His knuckles grazed my cheek, a tender embrace that sparked nothing. “The rumor is, you’re single, so what’s the harm in grabbing something to eat?”
Direct and to the point—I couldn’t knock him for that.
I had taken the same approach with Dominick.
Dominick …
The man who was teasing me to death. Inviting me to hang out with him and his niece, where I’d fantasized about his hands as he held his fork, his lips as he ate those strawberry almond pancakes. My ovaries exploding every time he’d looked at Everly with all that love in his eyes.
“There’s no harm in that,” I replied. “But I don’t think dinner is a good idea.”
“We can skip dinner and go straight to dessert if you’d like.” He added more charm to his grin. “When are you free?”
Neverwas the answer I wanted to give. I just didn’t want to come across as rude.
“Can I look at my schedule and get back to you?”
He laughed, now his face full of shock.
I was sure no one had ever said that to him before. Most women would probably be lowering their dress right now.
“This show has so many unexpected, unplanned shoots. I’d most likely have to cancel our date, and that wouldn’t be fair to you. When things are more confirmed, I’ll have a better idea of when I’m available.” I didn’t want to lead him on, but I wanted to soften the blow in case I ran into him again. “I know your schedule is nuts, too, and you can relate to the madness of filming.”
“I can. I get it.” His hand had left my face and was now palm up in the air. “Give me your phone.”
I reached inside my clutch and gave it to him, watching him press the screen and type.
“I saved my number in your Contacts. Call me when you’re up for that date.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. I glanced at the door. “Should we get out of here?”
His gaze deepened. “Unless you’d like to stay …” When I didn’t reply, he added, “After you.”
I stepped toward the exit, and the moment I opened the door, there was a flash in my face, followed by what felt like hundreds more, especially once Presley was directly behind me. The light was blinding. The questions—Are you dating Presley Jordan? What were you two doing in the restroom? How long have you been intimate with one another?—being shouted was completely overwhelming. I didn’t know how many people were surrounding us, trying to see what the commotion was about, but it seemed like a gang and that they were all rushing at us.
Air was stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t take a deep breath, my stomach in knots, my chest pounding.
I used my purse as a visor, trying to create some darkness so I could see, and I pushed myself away from the light and the people, moving against the nearest wall.
“How the hell did you get in here?” a bouncer shouted at a man, grabbing him by the neck and dragging him out of the VIP area.
The paparazzo.
He was still trying to take pictures, wrestling with his camera, even though he was being kicked out.
“Are you all right?” Presley asked, joining me.
I searched for my breath, trying to calm myself down. “I think so. That was a lot.”
“The bouncers don’t normally allow them in this area. That bastard must have somehow snuck in.” He clenched my shoulder, smiling. “Call me, all right?”
I nodded, and as he disappeared into the crowd, I headed toward the bar, gripping the wooden top the moment my hands landed on it.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
“Skinny margarita. Extra tequila, please.”
A hand was on my back again, this time the sensation making me jump.
“Jesus, are you okay?” I heard.