Page 89 of The Best Wrong Move

“No. She’ll be snoring by the time her head hits the pillow. You’d never imagine a woman like that snores like a freight train, but with a couple of drinks in her, she’s frightful to try and sleep next to.”

I hold up my phone. “I was actually just requesting a ride.” My plan was to head back to the rental again tonight, giving Quinton and Selma space. “But I’ll cancel it. For now.”

“Yes, cancel it. I want your opinion on some plans.” He wraps one arm around my shoulders and starts walking me toward the lanai, leading down to the garden.

“What about Dom? Have you gotten his opinion yet? He’s done a beautiful job on the garden and—”

“Ah, yes, Dom the gardener. Come on, let me show you.”

Dom was right about Quinton’s ego if he can refer to his immensely successful brother asthegardener. The tiny pit in my stomach grows to a crater.

We cross the threshold into the dark, lit only by the collection of firepits and solar lights leading toward the pool.

Something about this doesn’t feel right.

I stop in my tracks.

“Let’s bring Dom with us,” I say. “I’d love to hear what he thinks too.”

Quinton’s breath tickles the inside of my ear as he leans down to whisper. It smells of sour whiskey and the chocolate from dessert. “I thought you wanted a moment alone to discuss something with me. Selma mentioned you wrote a script? But if you don’t actually want to . . .”

He waits for me to either walk with him or turn around and go home.

I look behind us, hoping to see Dom reappear in the kitchen, ready to join my solitary walk with his brother down to the pool. But no such luck. He’s giving me that space he promised to play the game with Quinton.

“Come on, I won’t bite. It’ll give us some time to talk about your little project.”

Of course I’m not going to turn down the opportunity to have Quinton Rockwell listen to my pitch at his estate. Every opportunity comes with some type of price. Sometimes, the price is just taking a little risk. I’m not about to turn around and walk away from my lifelong dream potentially coming true.

“Show me the pool,” I tell him.

Chapter 61

I look behind us again as we continue down the dimly lit path leading to the pool, hoping to see Dom coming down after me. I don’t mind pitching Quinton in front of Dom, but I’d rather not troop off into the garden alone with a drunk man I hardly know.

“I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time here in my garden.” Quinton lowers his arm from my shoulder to my waist. I stoop to pick up a plumeria from the path, taking it as an opportunity to gracefully wriggle out of his reach. “It must be a great spot to write if you’re here so often.” His eyes travel down my body as we’re stopped on the path. “And swim.” He gently takes my elbow, leading me further from the house.

I seize the opportunity now that he’s mentioned my writing.

I muster up every bit of confidence I have left in me. “I’ve finished a full-length film script.”This is it.“I’d like to tell you more about it.”

I picture him spinning around, telling me he’d love to, but he doesn’t even falter. His feet keep moving us toward the clearing where the pool is, as if he hasn’t heard me at all.

“It’s just through here.” He pushes back the same palm branches Dom shoved aside on our first trip to the pool. A crippling sting of regret whips through me. I should have insisted more strongly that Dom come with us.

What am I doing?Forging through the garden in the dark with a very drunk, very powerful man. His status in Hollywood blinded me to the fact that I really have no idea who he is as a person. No idea of what he’s capable of. And my stupidity has left me completely at his mercy out here, where no one else can hear us.

My heart starts thumping a warning sign when I register how far we are from the house. Dom won’t know whether I left with Quinton or took a ride back home. He’ll probably assume Quinton went to bed if I’ve left. I spin around, looking behind us again as we bounce down the path together, willing Dom’s silhouette to appear along the gravel inlay behind us.

But the path is empty.

Quinton walks a bit faster. “Just a little farther.” He seems to be sobering up as we close the space between us and the pool.

Chapter 62

We reach the pool in what feels like record time. When I came through the brush with Dom that first time, the view took my breath away. Now, arriving with Quinton, it looks beautiful as ever, but my impression of our surroundings has dampened. The aquarium light glowing behind the bar looks more gaudy, the setup overdone.

Quinton beelines for the bar, pulling a new glass from behind the thick stone wall of cupboards.

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