Page 42 of Nothing to No One

“Which was?”

“How we met?” Roman’s hand slid over hers to twine their fingers together. Quelling the instinct to pull away, she fought to dampen the cringe in her cheeks, concealing it as happiness. “You know what I’m like when I see what I want.”

Roman raised their hands a few inches, rather than kiss or continue any fondness, he went for the wine instead. Good choice. A reprieve, though it may be temporary. The wine saved her skin from his lips, but may not save her from his attitude later. What did alcohol do to him? Couldn’t be anything good.

“I heard Sway was in town,” Ricardo said with a hint of seriousness in the set of his brow. “Are you on speaking terms?”

“Sway and I are fantastic,” Roman answered. It was funny to see him say the woman’s name without a weight of hatred-tinged passion propelling the word from his lips. “She’s happy for me. I’m happy for her.”

“Yes, her engagement. To Deacon… something. He plays in your brother’s band.”

“Yes.”

Roman’s slight head nod was curbed by another drink of wine. Excellent plan. She lifted her own and tried to be subtle about gulping rather than sipping. Her other hand was anchored on the table by his heavy affection. Immobile under his, neither of them quite knew how to show warmth without some point of connection.

This couldn’t be easy on him either. Clearly, he was used to being in control, demanding what he wanted and receiving satisfaction.

With her. It wasn’t like that.

He didn’t want to be with her any more than she wanted to be with him.

While pitying his profile, Raquel spoke for the first time. “I heard that’s over already. Her and Deacon. Is that true?”

“She struggled,” Roman said. “Without me, without us. As I would have done if I hadn’t found my true purpose.”

A squeeze of her hand preceded his head turning her way in her peripheral vision. Shit, he meant her. She concentrated on smiling at the other couple.

“She’s turning down roles,” Whey said. “Far as I hear she has nothing lined up. And I hear everything.”

“If she thought she was getting married—”

“When the right thing comes along…” Whey cut Raquel off, “Sway’ll make her choice.”

Roman beamed. “LikeUndercover Ops.”

“Yes, something to give her an aim. A home, a place to rediscover her love of the art.”

“Are you an actor, Mr. Whey?” she asked. “I know that’s not your stock and trade now, but did you ever feel the call of the stage or screen?”

“Not officially,” he said on a warm laugh. “Though some may argue what I do every day is pantomime.”

The table’s laugh felt genuine, perhaps the first she’d heard since meeting Roman Lowe.

“It’s a difficult town to adjust to. I’m never sure what is real and what’s pretend.”

Whey leaned a little over the table. “None of us are,” he murmured, still smiling. “That’s the secret natives hide. Want to get along in this town? Follow the money. If the dollars are moving from their account to yours, you’re doing the right thing.”

That’s what it was. Amassing money. Acting, directing, producing, distributing, every single avenue of entertainment media was measured by how many zeros were added to the check at the end of the day. Whether that money was coming from big studios or little kids’ allowances blown on lunchboxes and action figures, it was all about the money.

“It’s instinct. Those who cut their teeth in LA around stars and moguls and world-renowned names, we take it for granted. You understand how it works, what’s important, who to ingratiate yourself with, and who to ignore. It’s a gut feeling. You get a sense of who’ll make it and who will fail.”

“It can’t be taught,” Raquel said, gazing lovingly at the man who didn’t look her way.

“What you’ve got to know in this town, sweetheart, is you’re only as good as your next deal. Success can slip like sand from the fingers with one bad choice.”

Like Roman, oops, maybe not a nice thought. Anywhere else she would have said it aloud, but not there.

“No more of them.” Roman projected his voice as he puffed out his chest. Yes, he was Mr. Big Shot, in his own illusions anyway. “No more bad choices.”

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