Page 6 of Nothing to No One

“And you got a hit in LA?”

She nodded. “I traveled to a few interviews in different states, but the LA job… I couldn’t really say no… and the pay was good, so…”

He smiled. “It’s good until you realize it’s expensive to live around here.”

She laughed. “Tell me about it. You hear about the big city, but nothing prepares you for it.”

“How long you been here?”

“Almost three months.”

“Where are you from, Fawn?” he asked. “Originally.”

All the questions, she didn’t expect such a talented superstar to be interested in a nobody like her.

“Wishbone, Washington,” she said, noting his quirk of amusement. “Yep, that’s me, Bambi from Wishbone.”

He offered the bottle to her, but she shook her head.

“Come on, you won’t get in trouble, I promise. Got to keep the talent happy, right?” Maybe, but there were limits to what she’d do. Probably not a policy many in town subscribed to. Lowe put the liquor bottle in her hand. “So, Bambi from Wishbone, are you running from something or looking for something?”

Her eyes stayed on his as she drank. She gave him back the bottle and breathed through the burn.

“Running,” she admitted. Though Lowe’s lips were occupied by the bottle, his brows rose. Guess he hadn’t expected her to be so open. “I was with a guy for a few years, I broke up with him and… he didn’t want to let go.”

Twisting away, he put the bottle on the floor behind him. “I can understand why.”

When he tried to touch her face, she shook her head. “You can’t understand Kevin, least I hope you can’t.”

Her feeble joke didn’t amuse him.

Instead, he frowned. “Did he hurt you?”

“He tried to,” she said. “But I’ve taken control. I’m proud of the life I’m building… well I was. God knows what will happen after tonight.”

“Tonight wasn’t your fault, and you said it yourself, Brooker have other things to worry about. You won’t lose your job, I’ll make sure of it.”

Grinning, she stroked his arm. “I bet you know all sorts of people.”

And could pull all kinds of strings.

“You like fame?” he asked. Noting her confusion, his head tilted. “Yeah, you said you don’t want to be in the movies, doesn’t mean you’re not turned on by notoriety.”

Something in the way his attention drifted caught her interest. There was something there, in his countenance and expression, something concerning.

He’d touched her when the lights first went out. So touching was allowed, right? She shifted onto her knees to slide a hand onto his jaw, bringing his gaze back for her examination.

Looking into him, a rush of worry consumed her. What was that? What was in him that dimmed his light? Overwhelmed by distress and pity, she crawled closer to stroke his other cheek, still holding his jaw.

“What is it?” she murmured, wishing she could see beyond his façade. “What’s wrong?”

THREE

HIS LIPS PARTED but no words passed them for a few moments.

“I’m tired,” he said, maybe not ready to trust her too much. “I didn’t want to be here tonight. I have work to do, and I don’t like to be distracted by bullshit like this… Not the charity, that’s worthy. The cause is the only reason I came. It’s important to people I care about. But the drinking, the shoulder rubbing, gladhanding, the name dropping, I can’t stand it.”

Her interaction with him thus far proved the image was far from the reality. Okay, so she knew little to bupkis about the entertainment industry. She’d only got to LA a couple of weeks before starting her job with Brooker and wasn’t exactly boning up on the intricacies of Hollywood politics. And no one could judge, how could she have known something like this would happen?

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