I hesitate for a moment, sensing her nervousness. “Yeah, I do. Her name’s Leslie Hart. The studio wanted a blonde.”
“Is she hot?” Brianna asks, then rolls her eyes a half-second later and snorts. “Stupid me, of course she is.”
She doesn’t even come close to you, darling.
Brianna has no idea how easily I’ve been replacing Leslie’s face with hers during the lines I’ve actually been able to pull off. “She’s not my type,” I say to put her at ease while giving her a direct, intense look.
You are.
Brianna ducks her head to hide her embarrassment. But when she looks back up, she’s chewing her lip thoughtfully. “Will there be love scenes?” she asks.
I freeze, taken off guard. Is my Brianna jealous? I’m not totally sure, but I think Miranda said there would be at least one. At the time I accepted the script, I didn’t give a fuck. I didn’t care one way or another.
“I haven't read that far in the script,” I say. “But I don't think it will be anything that’d push the movie too far. Someone said they’re aiming for PG-13 with this.”
The corner of Brianna’s lips draw down and I know she’s disappointed. I don't want her to feel that way, so I decide to change the subject.
“So, how was your day?” I ask smoothly, as if she never asked the question. “Vandenburgh finally cut you some slack after I stepped in for you?”
Bri seems to relax. Maybe just talking about the daily grind is reassuring to her. “He didn’t bother me much. But the rest of my day was awful. I had a guest walk in on me cleaning a room and claimed that he had a DND sign on the door when he didn’t. He yelled at me to get out . . . kind of put a damper on my mood.”
Anger clenches my stomach. I’m pissed. No one yells at my Bunny. “What a douche.”
Brianna nods, scowling. “Just another irate asshole. He’s not the first and he won’t be the last.”
I tightly clench my wine glass. “You catch his name?”
Brianna screws up her pretty face for a moment. “Lance something. I think he’s part of your movie crew.”
Lance. Funny how we were just talking about the shithead.
Okay, now I don’t feel so bad about kicking you in the mouth.
I make a mental note to have a word with him and maybe reinforce it a little. “I’ll check later and see if he’s part of the crew,” I assure her.
Brianna shakes her head vigorously. “Don’t do that. It’s okay. Worse things have happened, trust me.”
I set my jaw, letting it drop for now. I pause, gesturing across the room to the small dinner table, which is set with candles, two plates, and covers to keep the contents warm. “Shall we?”
Brianna nods softly as I get up and help her out of her seat. I lead her over to the table, holding the chair out for her. When she’s seated, I refill her wine glass before revealing the lamb chops. “A little coffee shop manager happened to mention you like these.”
Brianna tries to scowl, but then she chuckles softly, shaking her head. “I swear, that girl…”
“If it helps, she didn’t volunteer it. I asked,” I tell her as I sit down.
We start eating, and while the lamb isn’t Michelin Star quality, I’ve had a lot worse. “So tell me more about yourself,” I ask her. “Where do you live? What do you like to do when you’re not here at the hotel?”
Brianna chews slowly, thinking about how she wants to answer, and I can see she’s got something she wants to hide. It’s probably because she doesn’t have much, but I don’t care about any of that. “I’ve got an apartment close to the university,” she finally says. “It’s convenient, I guess. As for free time, I don’t really have a lot of it. I’m either working here or in school. In the time I do have free, I’m either with Mindy or just trying to rest. You know, normal boring things.”
“Boring?” I ask wistfully. “With all the paparazzi I have to deal with, I’d love boring every once in a while. It would be nice, just for once, to be able to go somewhere without someone bringing up that damn video.”
“About that . . .” she says slowly. “How does it feel to know that everyone . . .” She pauses, struggling to find the words.
“Has seen my junk?” I finish for her.
She blushes, but she doesn’t hide her face. “Yeah,” she says.
I shrug. “I admit, it did bother me at first. But then I just said the hell with it. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I still hate that’s all people talk about, though.”
“Nothing at all,” Brianna mutters under her breath, but I hear it anyway.
I bring the wine glass to my lips, hiding my smile and pretending like I didn’t notice.
She asks a moment later, “I’ve been wondering. How long will you be in town? I think people will miss it when production shuts down.”
“Just the rest of the week, maybe a day or two more if they need reshoots,” I tell her. The disappointment that reflects in her eyes stings, though I don’t know why. We both know I’m here for a short time and it’s not like we really know each other. “I have to report to offseason workouts. It’s part of my contract. If I don’t show up to at least eighty percent of them, I get docked a million dollars.”
I don’t usually tell strangers about my financial details, but I feel at ease with Brianna.
She nods in understanding, and part of me starts doing the math on just how many days I could skip to have a few more boring days in this town, when she starts blushing furiously.
“What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking . . .” she says, her voice trailing off as she bites
