Page 63 of A Spy is Born

I’ve missed her but return the call. "Hey, doll," she says.

"Mary, what's up?"

“Troy Woods wants to meet you tomorrow.” The director of theStar Warsfilm. “Can you come by the office? Ten a.m.?"

"Of course. I'm excited to finally meet him.”

"He is thrilled you're on this project. He just got back from shooting in New Zealand, or he would have set this up earlier."

"Sure, I understand."

We hang up, and I clench the phone in my fist, feeling pretty darn good. I've got a great, hot boyfriend, a starring role in a huge film, and Temperance is taking care of my only problem without me.Life is good.

A small warning bell rings inside my head; often the clearest skies hold the most danger.

Julian takesme to a trendy place where paparazzi swarm, and we hold hands. It's fun, and the food is great. We cuddle in the booth and dance until my feet ache. "Come on," he whispers into my ear. "Let's go home."

The idea that we may one day share a home warms my drunk little heart. Could I really have everything? Why not?

His home is up in the hills, with a security gate. "When did you get this place?" I ask as the wooden gate trundles open for us.

"About four years ago, afterDuskcame out." Duskwas his first big heartthrob film. It grossed over a billion worldwide and cemented him as a star. “I’ve been renovating.”

“Wow, four years to renovate?”

“It’s a hell of a process, and I don’t recommend it.” He laughs at himself, and I reach out and run my hand over his shoulder, just wanting to touch him as he pulls onto his property.

"I'd love to get a place like this someday," I say.

He laughs again. "You haven't even seen it yet."

"That's my point! A driveway this long, this much land…"Hard to just stroll right in with that kind of security.

I look away as I think of Jack Axelrod's house. He had a driveway this long...

Julian’s home comes into view: a white, mid-century modern masterpiece. All clean lines with an absence of Hollywood excess. It takes my breath away. "Wow."

"You like it?"

"I love it." I look over at Julian, and he's smiling. There is pride in his expression but not ego. He is proud of the house itself—not that he can afford it.

Julian pulls around the circular drive, stopping at the front door. Climbing out, he comes around for my door, and I let him open it for me. Not because I'm some damsel who requires old-fashioned courtesies or who doesn’t have the strength to pry open a car door, but because I like the way he looks leaning in for my hand.

Julian enters a code into the lock at the front door. I glance away to give him privacy. Maybe one day I'll have that code. Or my own code. A shiver of want runs over me.I want him and this relationship. I want us to work.

He glances up at me as he swings the door in, giving me a shy smile.

The sound of a car engine in the drive pulls both of our attentions back out into the night. A marked police car rolls into view, closely followed by an unmarked sedan.

Julian straightens, his brows arching. The hair on the back of my neck rises.Oh no.

The passenger door of the unmarked vehicle opens and Julian moves to stand slightly in front of me…to protect me. But I can tell. I canjust tellthis is my fault.

I recognize the fedora first—it’s Mr. Cliché from the night I killed Jack Axelrod. Detective Jacobs. My throat goes dry, but I force my face to remain neutral as if I've never seen him before.

His eyes land on me, and he smiles, slow and pleased. “Hello officer," Julian says as the detective approaches. He's not worried. As a prominent, law-abiding citizen, why would he be?

"Mr. Styles, I'm Detective Jacobs.” Julian extends his hand, but Jacobs doesn’t take it. "I'd like you to come down to the station with me; we have some questions for you."

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