Page 36 of A Star is Scorned
“Food is a serious business,” he retorted, before leaning over and whispering in her ear. “Besides, what makes you think it’s merely the food that’s got me all worked up?”
The words made something warm and wet pool between her thighs. He couldn’t mean her? No, that was…indecent. Besides, she was not the kind of girl that Flynn Banks would go for—not outside this charade they were committed to. That’s all the words were: part of the game they played.
George gestured to a waiter lingering behind them. “Pedro, put them in Mr. Banks’s favorite booth.”
As Flynn led her into the room behind the register, Livvy clung to him tightly, horrified to discover that his whisperings had turned her knees to jelly. But he didn’t seem to care. He held her hand, steady and solid in his own, and brought her to a cozy wooden booth in the side room. He extended his arm, helping her slide onto the bench as she swept the fuller skirts of her chiffon gown beneath her.
Flynn crossed to the other side of the table and took his seat as their waiter laid a cloth napkin on Livvy’s lap. “Now, Pedro, this isn’t a fine dining establishment, let the lady have the authentic El Cholo experience.”
Pedro chuckled and nodded. He held out menus for both of them but Flynn waved him away. “Dos combination plates, the cheese enchilada,” he ordered. “And I’ll have a beer. Do you want a drink?”
Livvy shook her head. “No, water is fine, thank you.”
When Pedro walked away, she scanned the room, soaking inall the fine details, from the beautifully painted tile pattern that wound its way around the top of the room to the family photos framed and hung on the wall. A fire crackled in a hearth that split the room in two, and she relaxed, letting the warmth seep into her bones.
She turned back to Flynn and was surprised to see him grinning at her. “What are you smiling at?”
“You. Watching you take it all in. You’re beautiful when you’re curious.”
She blushed. “I’ve never seen any place like it. It’s so…homey.”
“That’s what I love about it too. None of that fake glamour or attempts to impress. Just good people making good food. There’s not a lot of folks who understand how special that is.”
Livvy rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that’s what you tell all the girls.”
Flynn smirked, his left eyebrow arching in a fashion that reminded her of his role inThe Fighting Swan. “I don’t bring other girls here. The type of girls I usually go for want champagne and a night on the town. You’re different, Livvy.”
“You mean provincial.” She was well read and her father had been well traveled. Flynn Banks was the son of an aristocrat. They did not inhabit the same universe.
“No one could ever describe you as provincial. I saw how you soaked in the Bach and the Stravinsky tonight. Everyone else was pretending to enjoy it because they think it makes them look smart. Hollywood’s full of philistines pretending to be dilettantes. But you’re the real deal. You actually appreciate the symphony. I can tell by the way every note hits a different part of your body or the slight smile that ghosts across your face when the strings get particularly melodic. You even try to hide your flinch when they hit notes that don’t belong. You can’t fake that.”
A strange sensation passed over her, some mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. She hadn’t realized he’d been watching her that closely. Until that last piece, the music had been so lovely, so moving that it had been impossible not to get swept up in it. “I love music. I always have. My parents used to take my sister and me to hear the local symphony. But I haven’t been out to see a live orchestra since—” Her voice caught as she was suddenly flooded with memories of her parents and the swirl of emotions that came with their loss.
“Since?” Flynn raised his eyebrows.
Livvy couldn’t give him that piece of herself. He hadn’t earned the right to it. And if he knew the truth… She didn’t know what would be worse: if he met her with disappointment or with pity. So, she swallowed back the rising tide of grief that threatened to overwhelm her. “Well, it’s been a very long time, anyway.”
Flynn looked as if he wanted to push her to say more, but their drinks arrived, and she sipped at her water, trying to banish the emotions that Flynn’s words had stirred in her. Flynn sipped at his beer, a brush of foam giving him a fake mustache. Livvy giggled, breaking the spell of the tension that had sprung up between them. “You look like Dash Howard.”
He scoffed and swept at his upper lip with the back of his hand. “Never insult me like that again.”
It only made her laugh harder. “I thought he was your best friend.”
“He is! But everyone knows that of the two of us, I’m the better looking one.”
She rolled her eyes at that. He was teasing, but there was still a hint of vanity there. Flynn Banks was a bit of a peacock. “Oh, I don’t know. I think he’s rather handsome. I’ve always preferred his pictures.”
Flynn narrowed his eyes at her. “You minx. That’s a lie and you know it. No one who learned how to sail a ship from watching my movies prefers Dash Howard.”
She threw back her head and laughed. He was so unexpected. So playful. Kind and funny.
“Would you rather be sitting here with Dash Howard right now?”
She bit her lip and pretended to think about it, and Flynn took another pull on his beer.
“Oh, c’mon, Livvy.”
“Well,” she teased, drawing out each word, “he is madly in love with his wife, so…”
