Page 39 of See You There
Luke studied her face for a second, but before he had an opportunity to ask another question, they had pulled into the parking lot, and Edgar was opening the door for Dahlia. A tall woman with glossy black hair, clad in a belted, sleeveless shirtdress, strode toward them, her hand extended. A bearded man with a small camera trailed behind her. The woman looked familiar, but Luke couldn’t place her.
“Lia! Diane Lebonet, withEntertainment Now!magazine. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She shook Dahlia’s hand.
Dahlia’s face shone with a bright smile as she introduced herself to the videographer. Diane looked curiously at Luke and then at Dahlia.
“Which Bloom are you? Luke or James?” The woman’s lips curled in delight. Her eyes sharpened like she’d sighted prey.
“Luke,” He said repressively, staring hard at the woman.
Luke swallowed a curse. He remembered her, now. They had met at a fundraiser several years before. When Luke refused to give her an interview for the magazine where she worked then, he’d found his personal life suddenly featured—in a less than pleasant way—all over the society pages. Headlines labeled him a ‘playboy’ and ‘billionaire-bachelor’ with extremely intrusive speculation about who would be the one to make him break his now infamous two-week rule.
His mother hadn’t been pleased, and neither had Luke. Not that he didn’t date a lot—his two-week rule—but the photos and captions made it appear that was all he was. They nevermentioned his professional successes, his pro-bono work, or the mentor programs he took part in. They all deftly painted him as a younger version of his father.
His anger must have shown on his face, because the reporter’s expression dropped. “Of course, I didn’t expect to see you with Lia today.” Her intonation made it a question. She was clearly fishing for gossip.
“Mr. Bloom is my lawyer.”
“I see.” Her gaze grew speculative. “I didn’t realize you’d changed from criminal defense.”
Luke gave her a cool smile. “Are you in need of representation?”
The reporter’s expression faltered. “No.” She turned toward Dahlia. “We should get started. I thought we could wander through one of the gardens, and then sit at the benches by the Chihuly fountain. They’ve roped off a section for us.”
“Sounds perfect,” Dahlia said.
Diane led the way up the steps and through the main building, asking a series of casual questions. When they reached the reserved garden, the cameraman helped them attach their microphones.
The questions Diane asked were similar to the two other interviews Luke had watched, though the tone was more conversational, as if Diane and Dahlia were old friends. The videographer alternately filmed them from behind and would then run ahead to get footage of them approaching.
Luke followed close enough to hear the questions and responses, but not so close as to crowd the women or appear in any shot. The sun scorched down on them, and while he was sweating to death in his suit, it impressed him that neither woman let on they were uncomfortable.
To distract himself from his discomfort, Luke watched Dahlia strolling in front of him. The heat caused the little hairson her nape to stick to her glistening skin. His eyes trailed lower to her hips, swaying gently in the lemon dress, the loose skirt brushing against her thighs.
Luke had a sudden urge to press his lips against her neck, put his hands on her waist, and pull her back against him. His body tightened, and he reached up to loosen his tie.Knock it off!He told himself, willing his body to behave.
“You’ve lived in Atlanta since filming began?” Diane asked, breaking through his fantasy.
“Yes, I’ve been renting a townhouse. I love it here!”
“You grew up on a farm, right? Do you miss the country?”
Luke’s ears perked up. He hadn’t heard anything about Dahlia’s early life.
Her shoulders tensed.
“Not a farm. Just a tiny town. I’m more of a city girl.”
“What do the people back home think about your success?”
Dahlia stumbled on her heels. “They are very proud. My grandmother always said I’d end up on stage.”
Luke frowned. There was an odd, tight quality to Dahlia’s voice. The group wound their way through the plants, stopping at the large, blue, Chihuly-sculpted fountain.
Diane conferred with her cameraman for a minute, discussing the best angle for the photos and the shots she wanted to get. Dahlia walked to the bench and rested her hand on the back. Luke’s brows bunched at the hectic color on her cheeks.
Even Diane seemed to notice. “Are you all right, Lia?”
Dahlia smiled. “I’m fine. I think the heat is getting to me.”
