“It’s better for the show if I avoid an affair with one of my actors, Whit. This has the potential to get extremely messy and you know it.”
“Whatever. You’ve spent years worrying about the show. The show is just fine. What about you? When will you start taking care of Elle?”
“Someday.” She offered a weak smile.
She retreated to her office, telling her friend she was swamped with scriptwriting. Everyone knew she was on a time crunch as filming began the following week. She’d managed to alter the first six episodes, and had completed episode seven, but she had over a dozen yet to complete. She had a team of writers to assist her, but being the perfectionist she was, she wasn’t ready to give them control when it came to the addition of David’s character. Rob had bristled at her possessive outlook on the season, but backed off eventually when Elle promised to step back slightly after episode ten, allowing the other writers to contribute to the storyline.
When she reached her office, she was surprised to see Luke waiting in a chair, studying his cell phone. He rose to his feet as she approached, his cocky smile returning to his square jaw. Aside from his flushed cheeks, his overall demeanor screamed of confidence—his broad shoulders, the one hand resting on his hip as he pushed the phone into his back pocket, and the way he stared at her as if she were a delectable dish he was dying to consume.
“Can I help you?” She didn’t mean to sound brusque, but she was starting to wonder if this was all a game—a game meant to mess with her head.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, closing the gap between them. She could smell his scent—woodsy and light, nothing too harsh. She liked that natural smell and was relieved he wasn’t one of those actors who covered themselves in the latest trendy scent. Luke leaned in, his nose tickling the skin of her ear. She shuddered.
“In private,” he whispered.
Elle turned to close the door. When it clicked shut, she pushed him against the cold wood, her finger pressed to his chest. She watched as he glanced down at her hand pressed against the button of his shirt. An uneven smile formed on his face.
“What are you doing?” she said. “Are you trying to make trouble?”
“I don’t understand—”
She narrowed her eyes and peered into his unapologetic stare. “Yes, you do.”
“According to my agent, this is perfectly acceptable. We’re adults.”
“Right,” she scoffed. “Is this a ploy? Because if it is, you don’t need to worry about that. Whitney’s already giving them the go-ahead, they’re drawing up your contract now. You don’t need to do this just to get the job.”
His hand squeezed hers tightly as his head moved slowly from side to side. “Not a ploy.”
“And I’m supposed to believe this why?” Elle tipped her chin toward Luke, but beneath it, her heart was racing so fast, she felt weak.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—not since we met last week.”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”
When Luke responded with a look of confusion, Elle continued. “I’m not blind. I saw the way you looked at Gina.” Her voice was faltering beneath her words. She sounded weak, attached . . . everything she didn’t want to appear to Luke Kingston.
“She is pretty cute . . .” He shrugged before taking her hand in his and lowering it to rest on her hip. “But she’s not who I want.”
Elle released her hand from his grip, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Silence hung in the air.
“I loved reading with her, I’m not gonna lie about that. But you’re the one I think about. Yours is the face that keeps me up at night.”
Still, Elle remained silent, not sure what to say.
“And what happens when this,” she said, motioning between their two bodies, “doesn’t work out? Your contract won’t be up for two seasons. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, Luke. Think this through.”
Elle didn’t do awkward. She didn’t want to avoid a member of her cast, let alone have to resist the urge to kill off his character. There would be table reads, and hundreds of takes during production. She needed to keep her work environment a safe one—one without conflict. Why couldn’t he understand that?
“One date.” He stepped closer, running his hand down her cheek. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his soft hands and forgetting all about the work environment that seemed to matter so much only seconds earlier.
“One night, you mean,” she replied, feeling she had nothing to lose. She was ready to lay her cards out on the table. If Luke was looking for a one-night stand, he’d need to look somewhere else.
“If that’s what you choose,” he corrected her. “But I’m not looking for that.”
“Neither am I.” It was the truth. It’d been quite some time since Elle had been in a romantic relationship, but she knew herself well. She was the type who grew attached. Casual flings were not her thing.
Luke took one more step toward Elle. Her breath caught as she awaited his next move. Leaning in, his lips brushed against hers, not in a kiss, but in a teasing motion, stirring something within her. Back and then forth, he moved his lips ever so slightly to tickle hers. Her chest rose and fell with each second. She longed for him to stop teasing her. Luke moved his feathery touches to her jaw and then to her neck, never kissing her, only touching her just enough to send shivers down her spine.
“Give me a chance, Elle. I’m not that guy, seriously.”
Despite the nagging feeling that this was, in fact, a mistake, Elle closed her eyes and whispered her answer, “One date.”
Luke stood tall and ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s all I’m asking for. Tonight?”
“What time?”
“Whenever you’re free.”
“You’re certainly making this easy.”
“I can’t help it.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, their chests pressed to one another. “This is what you do to me.”
“Seven o’clock?” Elle asked, avoiding the intimacy of their embrace as her heart pumped furiously inside her body.
“Perfect. There’s this wonderful restaurant . . . Angelini Osteria. Have you been?”
“I think so.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up.”
Elle scrunched her lips together before responding. “Actually, I’ll meet you there.”
Luke broke eye contact briefly. “That works too.”
He then placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, released her from his grasp, and walked out the office door. Elle, lost in thought, walked to her office chair, slumping down inside the comfort of the worn leather. Her skin tingled, her heart pounded, and her mind wandered. She was in trouble. Yep. Lots and lots of trouble.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Whitney screeched into the phone. Elle stood in her bra and panties, cell phone pressed to her ear as she held a black lace cocktail dress to her body. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, her bangs swept loosely across her forehead. Her makeup was completed, but she had no idea what to wear. She tilted her head, trying to envision what was appropriate for this date. She didn’t want to be overdressed or too sexy. But then again, not being sexy enough was not an option. Luke had made it clear he was attracted to her, that he couldn’t stop thinking about her . . . and despite her snarky attitude earlier that afternoon, the feelings were completely mutual. She wanted to be just the right amount of sexy.
“I’m fine,” she choked out, placing the black dress back in her closet, trading it for a strapless denim dress with a large brown leather belt.
“I can hear The White Album. You only listen to that when you’re freaking out. Talk to me, Elle.”