Fatigue set in at the end of the day. Walking through the front door, she was greeted with a rich floral fragrance. Ignoring the gorgeous bouquet, Carrie Ann plopped her purse and box of chocolates beside the clear crystal vase.
Kicking out of her flats, she turned on some music, grabbed a glass of red wine, settled into her favorite overstuffed chair, and dug into her little brown bag of dinner-to-go. With each passing minute, the melody faded to background noise. Carrie Ann attempted to ignore the red roses staring her in the face. Hostility grew with each bite of lemongrass chicken. Half way through one of her favorite meals, she stood, slamming her fork and bowl on the kitchen counter.
Her nails clicked against the cold granite. She couldn’t decide who she was madder at, Summer or herself for allowing him to get under her skin. Fuck! Fuckity-fuck! Hormonal outburst kicked into full swing, pacing with punishing strides, stomping on the wood floor.
Reaching for the chocolates, she tore open the box, sinking her teeth into the caramel filled square of dark chocolate. Frustration loomed over her like a black cloud…a black cloud during a Summer downpour.
She needed an out.
Without so much as one rational thought, she grabbed her phone.
“Hello.”
“Hey,” she choked a bit, swallowing the sweet treat. “Sorry, I was just taking a bite of chocolate.”
“I was hoping you’d see them before the weekend.” A smile colored Jason’s voice. An unmistakable question hid within his statement.
“Luckily, Sara spotted them on my desk this morning and brought them with her to the Villa. They’re delicious. Thank you.” She kept her tone smooth, not overly coy, but just enough of an indication.
“It’s my pleasure. Have you had a chance to look at your schedule?” he paused. “Maybe go to dinner tomorrow night?”
Tommy would be upset if she backed out of the premier. However, the last thing she wanted to endure was the sight of a piece of arm candy attached to Summer’s side, while she watched from the sidelines—dateless—looking like a lonely idiot.
Desperate times lead to desperate measures.
“Actually, I have an extra ticket to a movie premier tomorrow night.” She stumbled through her words. “I need a friend to go with me. Are you interested?”
Jason fell quiet on the other end of the line. “Friends, huh?”
“Friends,” she remarked casually. Glaring at the flowers, Carrie Ann added out of pure spite, “Friends…date…maybe.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Even with a warm measure of charm pouring from Jason’s voice, she didn’t feel the slightest tingle of interest. Not one zing. Guilt reared its ugly and unflattering head. Make it clear…friends only! Her typically poised date routine morphed into a ramble. “Would it be too much to ask if we just keep it simple…for right now. See how things go? I’ll be consumed for the next week, and honestly, I get so bogged down, all of my energy—”
“Carrie Ann, I totally understand. I’d love to go. I promise to keep my hands to myself and I won’t expect you to move in with me until we’ve had at least two dates.” He chuckled. “I’ll arrange a car. What time would you like me to pick you up? I’m assuming that’s okay?”
She had to laugh at his sarcasm. “That would be great. Six o’clock?”
“Six it is.”
*
A-listers arrived by car, feeding the frenzy of flashing lights and screeches of exhilaration from fans, press and paparazzi. Carrie Ann and Jason arrived via a separate entrance and waited in a VIP holding room along with one hundred or so other attendees. The eager movie goers cared not so much about the movie, but about the irresistible sensation of channeling their inner-celebrity for an evening.
Not wanting to draw attention to her girls, Carrie Ann opted to conceal her cleavage wearing an edgy, silver sequin cropped mini paired with blue suede peep toe ankle boots. The platform bootie with stiletto heel added some serious inches to her average five foot five height next to Jason’s broad six-foot stature.
Their conversation flowed easily, chatting it up with other guests waiting for staff to usher them in groups down the Red Carpet, spreading out the excitement. Jason was polite, attentive, and very admiring, hitting all the fine-tuned points a date needed to make a good impression. The man had what Carrie Ann referred to as Player discipline, delving out compliments in moderation to ensure its success ratio. Starting with the traditional, “You look beautiful,” upon arrival and, “Your eyes light up when you talk about HAHF,” during the drive, followed by an intrigued, “What makes you so passionate about the Have a Heart Foundation?” while in the holding room.
Fortunately, the Cinema staff came with impeccable timing and arrived right on cue to save her from sharing a personal story of her mother’s death, a story she rarely shared.
Stepping into the lime light, Carrie Ann duly inspected Jason’s masculine frame. She couldn’t deny his strikingly handsome features. Dark hair layered seamlessly across his forehead, tie knotted to perfection at his throat, even his shoes exhibited a pristine shine. Caught staring, Jason smiled amiably, taking the opportunity to rest his hand on her lower back. As the corners of her lips began to turn upward, he gave another adjustment to his already perfect tie, pressing and primping with neatly manicured fingers. Her lip recoiled with a tiny flinch, bombarded with the sudden urge to muddle his hair or dislocate his tie.
They stopped several times, managing to get in a few selfies along the Red Carpet. Carrie Ann discreetly canvased the walkway, fully prepared to run into Summer at some point during the evening. The constant feeling of distraction wore on her nerves.
Hearing shrills of excitement erupt in the distance sent a cautionary warning ping to her chest as autograph seekers called out for Ryan and his co-star Jessy. She automatically teetered on her tip toes, stretching her neck in the direction of the strobe of photogs, but couldn’t see anything through the cluster of press.
Once inside the Cinema, the insanity hushed to a low roar and scent of buttered popcorn permeated the air. Carrie Ann and Jason settled into their assigned seats directly behind Shayla and John.
“Hey,” Shayla croaked, choking on her popcorn seeing Jason at her side.
Carrie Ann purposely failed to mention bringing Jason to the premier, fearing a long lecture from Shayla that surely would’ve pointed out the fact that she’d already mentioned having no interest in dating Jason. Which undoubtedly would’ve led to topics like childish behavior or you’re using your date to make him jealous or You need to come clean with him. Or a number of other rational statements that Carrie Ann had no interest in hearing. She simply didn’t want to endure the humiliation of watching Ryan Summer parade a gorgeous woman around in front of her all night.
“It’s a madhouse out there. You look amazing. Great dress,” Carrie Ann complimented, hoping to ease the look of dismay washing the color from Shayla’s cheeks. She leaned over the seat-back between them, passing out hugs to her favorite couple. “Hi John.”
“The crowd is crazy!” John agreed, pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek before extending a hand to Jason. “John Mathews.”
“Jason, Jason Calver. Nice to meet you.
“This is my wife, Shayla.”
Shayla squashed the bewilderment forged into the groove between her brows before greeting Jason. “Pleasure to meet you. Carrie Ann’s told me all about the Villa you found for the auction. I can’t wait to see it this weekend.”
John’s eyes beaded and a rogue smile filled his handsome face. The man had a gift for reading people and judging by the snarky gleam in his eye, he knew exactly why Carrie Ann had a man at her side. He glanced toward a group seated several rows in front of them. She followed his lazy gaze, skimming over the crowd. An unusual sensation of butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach, spying a head of thick sandy blond hair. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t help noticing Summer’s co-star, Jessy and her husband sat to the right of him, and Drew filled the seat to his left.