Page 5 of Nothing to No One

“Not something this rich.” She wiped her mouth. “I’ve never had Scotch before. I’m more of a sweet wine girl. I don’t drink hard liquor…” Shaking her head, she laughed and wrappedher arms around herself to squeeze her own shoulders. “One mouthful and I’m rambling already.”

Lowe wasn’t nervous about drinking. In the time she’d been talking, he’d had another three mouthfuls.

“You’re not freaking anymore, Little Fawn.” He gave the bottle to her again. “It’s good for something.”

“Liquor will do that, I guess.”

Leaving her there pondering whether to drink more, Lowe went to the stacked mattresses and picked one up. Just like that, he plucked it up and carried it across the room. Stepping aside, he let it fall flat on the floor and used his foot to push it flush to the wall.

“Do you want to sit?” he asked, taking off his jacket to lay it at the head of the bed.

“On a bed?”

He loosened his tie and undid a couple of shirt buttons. “I don’t see any chairs.”

No, she didn’t see any either and he was Roman Lowe, it wasn’t like she had to worry about her virtue. Crawling onto the bed, she kicked off her shoes, conditioned not to put them on a mattress.

“If anyone should be sitting on the jacket, it should be you,” she said, picking it up to offer it back as he sat on the opposite edge.

“Why?”

“You’re the superstar, Hollywood guy.”

He took the jacket and leaned closer. “What would the paps say if I was anything less than a gentleman?”

That put a smile on her face. Once he’d laid it out flat again, she scooched higher to sit, resting against the concrete behind them. He didn’t retreat and stayed at her side, shoulder against the wall.

“This must be a nightmare for you,” she said, sipping from the bottle. “Sitting doing nothing, nothing going on.”

“Nothing going on, sure.” He accepted the bottle when she handed it over. “But I’m used to it. There’s a lot of hurry up and wait on set.”

Making TV shows probably wasn’t as glamorous as people thought. Since she had one of the world’s number ones with her, she could find out.

“I bet you have plenty of people to keep you entertained during the wait part.”

“People?” he asked.

“Women.”

LA, Hollywood, the whole entertainment industry seemed rife with flirtation and innuendo. At work, sex came up fifty times a day. Everyone wanted to know who was with who, who had a chance with who, and who they had to do to get what they wanted. The top was within the reach of everyone and no one.

His nasal inhale took a long time to come back out. “Not a lot of time for women on set.”

Honestly? She didn’t know much about Roman Lowe and didn’t own a television. Movies were fun. She loved the experience of buying popcorn and sitting in a comfy chair waiting for the lights to go down.

But she couldn’t tell Roman she’d only seen clips of his work, shown by Renata in meetings about the event, along with a bunch of others. Insulting the man would be insensitive. They’d be stuck there for God knew how long, she didn’t want it to get awkward.

“I’d love to know what it’s like,” she said, twisting to face him.

Lowe lingered over sampling more liquor. The sullen sort of displeasure in his eyes was new. So far, he’d only seemed tolook at her in a positive light. Maybe asking about his work gave him the wrong idea about her interests.

The bottle left his lips. “Every set is different.”

“I’m not an actress,” she said, tugging her dress down her thighs. “I have no interest in being on the screen, big or small.”

“Then LA was a strange choice.”

“It wasn’t really a choice,” she said. “I had to leave home… my hometown, so I got on the internet and applied for jobs all over.”

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