Page 15 of Art of Love
“Okay,” Hunter replied.
“As this is the first time that I’m doing something like this, I will be willing to offer the unsuccessful party a full reference that you can take with you to another company. Carla, my PA, will go over everything with you tomorrow at nine a.m. sharp. Please don’t be late. I want to get basics over and done with as soon as possible. Use the next two weeks as your induction and the crew as your resources. Also know this. You may be competing against each other, but you will be required to work together like you’re part of the crew.” He nodded and smiled like this really was the best idea in the world.
The door opened, and Carla came in. She smiled when she saw me. That woman was a tough cookie to crack, but she liked me.
“Hi, guys, sorry to interrupt. John, Giorgio is here to see you for the booking.”
“This day just keeps getting better and better.” John beamed rising to his feet. “You guys get to know each other. Hang around for a bit and explore the set for the new show. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
He looked so happy as he left us.
I watched him walking away from us looking like he was floating. I could imagine for him, this really must have seemed fair and like the best idea ever. But for me, no, not so much. Inside, I was screaming, begging him to stay and not leave just yet because my legs were shaking, and I couldn’t move.
When the door closed, awareness hit me tenfold.
Feeling Hunter’s eyes on me, I turned my head slowly, oh so slowly to look at him.
Our eyes locked, and my cheeks burned. My cheeks burned like I’d been standing too close to the fire on a superhot summer’s day, and again I had that choked-up stifling feeling.
Locked within his blue gaze, I didn’t know how I was supposed to react or what I was supposed to say.
At least he was doing better than me because he looked fine, and that kind of infuriated me. Maybe he was used to picking up women at a bar and taking them home, and I was just last night’s lay. On a damn Monday night. It was my own stupid fault. I got me into that trouble. Not him. Me.
“Well, as far as coincidences go, this is one hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?” he said tentatively.
I blinked, still not knowing what to say. Maybe I should just come right out and ask him if we really did sleep together. Maybe we didn’t, and it was a stupid night of drunken fun in other ways. That kind of would be not so bad. Bad but not too terrible, definitely not as bad as thinking I’d slept with a guy I’d be working with and competing against for the same job.
“You didn’t seem this quiet last night.” He smirked, still trying.
“Last night.... I wasn’t myself.” That was a start. It set the stage. Now to gear up and ask him what happened.
“No? What part of you wasn’t yourself?” He gave me a pensive stare.
“All of it. I was drunk, and I don’t normally...” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I didn’t judge people, but I had certain standards I lived by. One-night stands were not me. And damn it, for the last few years, I’d tried to be the perfect role model for Lana because at her age impressions mattered. Now look at me.
“Normally what?” he prodded, raising an eyebrow. “Go home with strange men and see how quickly they can undress you?”
My lips parted, and I sucked in a sharp breath.“Oh God,” I breathed.
“Yeah, it was kind of funny.”
“Funny?” Annoyance was taking over. “You think this is funny? I just told you I wasn’t myself. I don’t do one-night stands or sleep with men I just met.”
I felt like I was going to faint. That lightheaded feeling intensified when he started laughing.
“Stop laughing.” I grabbed my bag and stood. I couldn’t stay here and endure any more of this shit.
There were bigger problems to think about. This job was one of them.
“Okay, laughter over. I get you weren’t yourself.”
“That’s what I said. Also, how dare you? How very dare you? You saw how drunk I was, and yet you took me to your house and took advantage of me.” It just dawned on me that while this was my fault, he had to be some kind of creep, because what kind of man would do something like that?
My words must had hit a nerve because he suddenly looked thrown.
“Right, because it would have been better for me to leave you in the pub so that someone who really wanted to take advantage of you could have?”
“And you thought it was better if you took me home and took advantage. What kind of asshole are you? Why couldn’t you have asked me where I lived and sent me home?” Surely, that would have been the right thing to do.
