Page 83 of Lust and Little White Lies

"I just met him. It was on the subway on the way here."

"No way. He's British, lives in London, and they just finished filming the show's final season in Los Angeles last week."

"I'm serious. That's the guy. I swear it's him. He even introduced himself after he helped me get up when I fell. He said he was here visiting." I reflect on our encounter and realize why Graham was waiting for me to say something. He assumed I recognized his face or his name. That explains his disappointment when I didn't say anything.

"Okay, now you're freaking me out. You better tell me what happened, and don't you dare spare a single detail."

Laurel sits on her knees on the couch, hugging a pillow to her stomach as she eagerly listens to me tell her the story. She shakes her head at me when I finish.

"I can't believe you ran into Graham Stewart. And I can't believe you didn't get his phone number! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking he reminds me of Dane."

"That explains your brain fart. How many times do I have to tell you? You always get a hot guy's phone number and never give him yours."

"Fine. I get your point, but the guy wasn't my priority. I had someone else on my mind, so don't get all worked up about it."

"I'm just shocked you met Graham Stewart and didn't take advantage of the situation."

"I leave that shit for you," I bite back. "Anyway, enough of Graham Stewart. I'm sneaking out of here while I have the chance."

"That's probably a good idea. Be careful on your way home."

"I will." I hug Laurel goodbye and retrieve my outerwear and purse from the gallery closet. Now, I need to sneak past the living room without Troy seeing me.

With a last glance at Laurel, I slink down the gallery toward the living room doorway. Reaching it, I carefully peek into the room. Troy has his back to me, and he and Herb are sitting at the small table by the wet bar. Herb sees me and grins. Troy is oblivious as he concentrates on his next chess move. I smile back at Herb and wave that I'm leaving. He nods in acknowledgment. Then I tiptoe toward the front door.

I let out a nerve-wracked breath as I latch it behind me and lean against the wall. Mom will be pissed when she discovers I've left, but I'll deal with her later.

Safe from Troy, I walk to the subway station and catch the train back to the East Village. I sit by the sliding door, reflecting on the night's events. Then my thoughts flip to Dane.Why the hell won't he call me?I ask myself over and over.

Frustrated, I lean against the window, wondering where he is and what he's doing. Then the pity party starts, and I shrink into the seat, moisture filling my eyes.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dane

Dane checks the Google map on his cell phone, using it to navigate the streets in Manhattan. Flying into JFK airport from London two hours ago, he caught a taxi to his hotel in the Financial District to drop off his luggage and freshen up. Now, Dane's walking the four short blocks to Brittany's office. He debated whether to warn her he was here and decided against it. Although Rada kept insisting Brittany had been angry and hurt because of the circumstances and didn't actually hate him, he isn't a hundred percent convinced and figures surprise is his best defense.

According to his map, Brittany's office is on the next corner. Peering down the street, he sees it. Tall with a black facade, the building occupies the entire block. Dane reaches it and goes inside. He checks the directory, locating the suite number forExploremagazine.

His stomach churns when he takes the crowded elevator to Brittany's floor. Locating her suite, he hesitates in the corridorand berates himself for being so nervous. He's a grown man, for God's sake, and has been through much worse than this. Then again, that was business. This situation is personal, and Brittany's response to his sudden appearance will determine what comes next. Steeling himself for the worst, Dane steps into the lobby and approaches the woman sitting at the reception desk.

"May I help you?" the woman says politely.

"I'm here to see Brittany Walker." Dane shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks. The queasy feeling in his gut is growing, and he questions all over again whether he's making a mistake.

"Do you have an appointment?" Although the woman's voice is sweet, there's a firm undertone.

"No, I don't."

"Let me call her office and see if she's in. Could I have your name, please?"

"Dane Evans."

The woman's eyes widen as if she knows his name, and her cheeks flush. Recovering, she appears to study him. "I see. One moment, please." She picks up her phone and dials a number, her attention still on Dane.

He shifts his stance, feeling uncomfortable. The way the woman keeps scrutinizing him, she has to know who he is and his connection to Brittany.

---