

### PRINCESS SUITE

### Once Upon a Desire

### By Jen McConnel

PRINCESS SUITE

By Jen McConnel

Published by Jen McConnel

Smashwords Edition, 2nd edition

Copyright 2018

Cover Design Brightfish Press

This book originally appeared under the pen name "Charity Hillis" in 2015.

License Statement:

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Copyright

A Note from the Author

More from the Once Upon a Desire Series
CHAPTER ONE

Carter hated flying. There was something about being trapped inside a metal cylinder for hours, shooting over mountains, lakes, and other death traps just waiting to happen that terrified him.

But that didn't matter to his manager; Davis always insisted that he fly everywhere, even if it would have been possible to drive. California to New York really would have been a hellish road trip, though, so Carter kept his mouth shut and his hands clenched on the wide armrests in first class as he made his way to La Guardia.

He'd halfheartedly suggested getting a rental truck and driving his stuff to Manhattan himself, but Davis had dismissed the idea immediately.

"Oh, 'cause you'd do so well stopping at crappy little rest areas and posing with random families on vacation." The manager had shaken his head firmly. "No reason to bring everything with you yet, anyway; you don't want the press getting wind of it, right?"

"What's it going to matter if they know I'm moving to New York now, or in six months?"

"In six months, God willing, you'll have made such a splash on Broadway that everyone will expect you to move." Davis jabbed his chest. "If they knew you were moving now, not just passing through and playing on the stage for a bit of fun, how long do you think it would take for the vultures to start circling? Driving a moving truck across the country smells an awful lot like running away from Hollywood, Carter."

_But I am running away_ , Carter thought, staring out the window as the plane began its initial descent. He swallowed the rest of his complimentary whiskey and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the way his stomach lurched as the plane slowly lost altitude.

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

Carter opened one eye as the flight attendant leaned over him to collect his glass, her hand brushing deliberately against his arm as she pulled back. Maryanne or Marianne, she'd said her name was. He swallowed the bile in his throat and flashed her his million dollar smile. "I'm doing just fine," he said, slipping into the role of a happy, successful movie star with ease. "But you've been good to me." He winked at her, and she smiled at him sappily.

"I'm sure people ask you this all the time," she began, studying his face. "But—"

"Yup," Carter purred. "I'm him."

Her grin stretched wider. "I thought so. Oh, my gosh, my roommate is going to flip when I tell her. Can I, um, would it be awful of me to ask for your autograph?"

Carter reached over and plucked the pen from her apron pocket, and she flushed. With a flourish, he scrawled his name across the tiny napkin sitting on the tray table in front of him, and then he presented both the napkin and the pen to the woman like some knight errant offering a favor to his lady fair. _How many years has it been since I played a part like that? I didn't really like the tights, but I still remember all the moves,_ he thought as he smiled at the flight attendant.

She gushed her thanks and backed away toward the cockpit, and he ran a hand through his hair, wondering idly if the gray at his temples would make people treat him like a has-been. His manager had assured him that his hair was still an asset, but Carter wasn't entirely sure he believed him. Still, the flight attendant hadn't seemed to mind.

Carter risked another glance out the window. Buildings were looming dangerously close, and he reflexively shut his eyes again, dropping the comfortable mask he always wore with the fans. _At least she distracted me,_ he thought as the wheels finally ground down on the runway. _That wasn't as bad as it usually is._ Still, he drew in a shuddering breath before he got off the plane, but the minute he walked into the airport, he plastered his usual smile across his face. He wore it like some celebrities wore their sunglasses; his fan smile was his disguise, his armor, no matter what else was going on around him.

He hadn't been sure if there'd be any reporters at the airport or not, but he was seasoned enough to be ready for them at any moment. The only person who seemed to notice him, however, was his manager, checking his cell phone constantly and waiting at baggage claim. Davis had flown out the day before to get everything squared away for Carter's arrival, although Carter wished he would have had company on the flight instead. The only thing worse than flying was flying alone.

Davis slipped his phone into his pocket as Carter approached. "You made good time. Let's go."

"Where did you book me again?" Carter asked, grabbing his roller bag off the carousel and striding toward the exit.

"Regal Towers."

"Never heard of it."

Davis shrugged and pointed to the black car with tinted windows idling by the curb. "It was the only penthouse in your price range."

Carter winced. "I don't need a penthouse," he said as he handed his bag to the man who was waiting by the open trunk of the car.

"Yes you do. It's the look of the thing. Doesn't matter if the hotel is shabby or not; Carter Edwards is a big star, remember? And big stars stay in the penthouse."

Carter rolled his eyes. "Right. Hollywood stars," he reminded Davis. "Broadway nobodies barely make the rent."

Davis held the door for him, and then slid into the backseat after Carter. "Stop being so negative. New York is a great scene, and the perfect place for a career reboot. Look at what happened with Moyra."

Carter winced and looked out the window. "Thanks for the reminder." Talking about his ex was painful, especially after she'd left their failing marriage behind to become a hit on Broadway while his own career had floundered.

"Look, I'm just saying there are worse ways to cash in on your name. Or did you want me to look at some of those adult film offers?"

Carter glanced at the man, expecting a punchline, but Davis wore a serious expression. "No, thanks."

Davis looked disappointed. "They pay pretty well, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, Davis."

"Then Broadway it is."

Carter sank back into his seat with a sigh. "You don't suppose Moyra will think I'm just copying her?"

Davis shrugged. "So what? You didn't worry about that when you two were married. Why start now?"

_Because divorce makes you feel like you have to ask permission just to keep breathing,_ Carter thought, but he just shrugged at his manager. "Being silly, I guess."

"Yeah, you are. Stop worrying about Moyra, and focus on blowing everybody away at your auditions this week."

Carter nodded, trying to look confident, but he was dreading the auditions. _Reading for a part in front of a camera is one thing,_ he thought, staring out the window as the car made its way into the city. _But facing an auditorium full of people is something else entirely._

CHAPTER TWO

Lynne rushed around the corner, carrying a tall floral arrangement with both hands. The pager at her waist beeped insistently, but she ignored it. She managed to press the elevator button with her elbow, but once inside, she had to set the flowers down in order to reach the access card dangling from a pull cord at her waist. Swiping it against the keypad, Lynne typed in the code for the Princess Suite. Only hotel managers, elite guests, and carefully screened members of the staff had that code; the penthouse was a world unto itself, a world most of the hotel guests didn't even know existed, and Lynne knew the rock stars and celebrities who stayed in the Princess Suite paid good money for that little slice of anonymity. _Well, they will, at least_ , she reminded herself. There hadn't been any guests in the suite since the remodel, but that was about to change.

The elevator doors slid open silently, and scooping up her flowers, Lynne hurried down the hall. Carter Edwards was due to arrive any minute, and Lynne's pulse accelerated at the thought of even one petal being out of place in the Princess Suite by the time the movie star checked in. Her boss had made it clear to her that a lot was riding on this visit; if Carter Edwards felt properly pampered during his stay, there was a chance that he might endorse the aging hotel, and after the price tag on the recent renovations, Lynne knew they desperately needed the visibility boost that Edwards could provide. Panting, she used a different code for the keyless entry to the penthouse, and the door opened inward on oiled hinges.

She paused at the threshold, eyeing the plush white carpet for a moment before she slipped off her shoes and crept into the suite in her stocking feet. _No need to mention that to housekeeping,_ she thought, walking carefully to the breakfast table dwarfed by a wall of windows looking down on Manhattan. _Besides, they'd have to vacuum again if I left shoe prints on that floor, and we don't have time for that._ Setting down the flowers on the petite table, Lynne risked a glance down at the city below.

The view was breathtaking, and Lynne paused to drink it in. She'd only been made shift manager a few months before, and there hadn't been a reason for her to be in the Princess Suite since she'd gained access to it. Sunlight cut across the skyscrapers, and everything was bathed in a pale golden light. _I'll bet it's even more magical after dark,_ she thought, her eyes skimming the familiar tip of the Chrysler Building in the distance. Other hotels might have had more desirable locations and swankier style, but Lynne thought it would be hard to beat the view from the Princess Suite.

Even though she could have stood there all day, gawking at the city, Lynne dragged her eyes away and hurried back to the door of the penthouse. Her promotion may have meant she had access to the suite and the celebrities who were hopefully going to make Regal Towers their home away from home, but it also meant she had to act like she wasn't awed by the opulence of the penthouse and its guests. That was proving to be a challenge, especially since she'd heard that Edwards was going to be the first guest she was in charge of, but Lynne wasn't about to risk her job chasing adolescent fantasies and movie stars.

She slipped her shoes back on and glanced into the room, her eyes skimming every nook and cranny one last time to make sure everything was ready for their special guest. The suite looked elegantly perfect, and Lynne closed the door behind her with a sigh. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to be a guest at Regal, rather than a manager, to enjoy some of the opulence without worrying about the rules. _I wonder if I'll ever be able to enjoy ANY hotel stay now,_ she thought as she hurried to the elevator. _Or do I know too much about what goes on behind the scenes?_

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes and tip her head back, but she resisted the urge to sit down on the plush settee in front of the gold elevator doors. One of the first things she'd learned when she started work years ago as a check-in clerk was that the hotel had security cameras scattered everywhere, and although they were ostensibly there for the safety of the guests, Lynne had known a handful of employees who were fired over things that couldn't possibly have been seen without the aid of the cameras. She rolled her shoulders and straightened up as the elevator doors opened, a professional smile plastered on her face.

When she got back to the front desk, she surveyed the lobby with a critical eye. The money that the owners had poured into renovating the penthouse hadn't stretched very far in the rest of the hotel, but Lynne had made sure the old carpet in the lobby had been steam cleaned before she went home the previous night, and the stately wooden registration desk had been freshly polished. Still, if she looked too closely, Lynne could see the places where the carpet had worn thin, strategically hidden beneath furniture that got rearranged every so often, and she knew there were a number of dents marring the top of the antique desk, but there wasn't anything she could do about all that.

_Things I can't change,_ she thought, her fingers skimming over the silver bracelet she always wore. The words to the serenity prayer were engraved on the inside, against her skin, and Lynne must have recited them a million times since she got sober seven years ago.

Turning around, her eyes landed on Carly, one of the check-in staff. She had a pink and brown scarf tied around her head like a headband, completely at odds with the sleek black suit she was wearing. Lynne shook her head. Regal Towers required their employees to wear uniforms, but there wasn't anything in the official set of policies dictating hair. Still, Lynne crossed to the registration desk and cleared her throat.

Carly looked up and grinned. "You're already done getting the Princess Suite ready?"

Lynne nodded, trying not to let herself be derailed. "He'll be here any minute. Carly—"

The woman sighed and smiled dreamily. "What will he be like in person, do you think?"

"I haven't really thought about it," Lynne answered honestly. Sure, she loved Carter Edwards's movies as much as the next woman, but ever since his manager booked him at Regal, she'd been too preoccupied with making things perfect for the movie star's stay to worry about what it would be like to meet him. She focused on Carly again. "Do you think you could take that scarf off before he gets here?"

Carly raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

Lynne nodded, trying to look firm. "It doesn't really give off a ritzy vibe, if you know what I mean."

Carly tossed her wavy hair defiantly. "Why should I care? I'm wearing the new uniform, even though black makes me look like a vampire; isn't that enough?"

Lynne sighed. "I just want everything to be perfect for this visit."

"Lynne, Edwards won't be the only celebrity who'll stay here. We don't have to bend over and kiss his ass just to get a good review of the hotel."

Lynne bit her lower lip. "But he's the first big name we've had since the remodel. We need this. We need to do whatever it takes to keep him happy, ass kissing included. Hell, I'd be willing to _lick_ his ass if that's what it takes."

Someone cleared his throat, and Lynne froze. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing whoever was standing behind her to not be Carter Edwards.

She turned around and met a familiar pair of emerald green eyes, sparkling with amusement. Lynne exhaled sharply. _How long has he been standing there?_ Sticking out her hand, she tried to keep the quaver out of her voice. "Welcome to Regal Towers, Mr. Edwards."

He gave her the blinding smile that had made him one of the sexiest men of the decade according to every celebrity magazine. "Thank you. Sorry I'm a bit early."

She shook her head and hurried to the computer, her fingers tapping the keys rapidly as she checked him in. "Not a problem. I trust you had a good flight?"

He shrugged, leaning casually against the counter, and Lynne noticed that his collared shirt was undone at the top, showing a triangle of perfectly tanned skin. She pulled her eyes back to the computer as fast as she could.

"Can't complain," Edwards was saying. "That's a pretty scarf," he added, and Lynne's eyes swung up in time to notice Carly inching around the counter, a sappy look on her face.

"Thank you so much, Carter," she gushed before giggling nervously. "I mean, Mr. Edwards. It's such a pleasure to meet you!"

Lynne rolled her eyes. "Carly, can you finish this up? I'll show Mr. Edwards to his room."

Carly stopped, her hand hovering in midair as if she'd been about to grab the movie star, and a small pout slipped onto her face. Lynne glared at her, and Carly shook herself, moving back behind the counter and forcing a smile. "Of course," she chirped. "Not a problem."

Edwards leaned forward and winked at Carly. "You sure you wouldn't do some ass kissing if I asked you to?" He asked with an impish smile that somehow made his words both charming and suggestive.

The girl giggled like an idiot, and Lynne clenched her teeth. _God, he'd heard everything._ Forcing a professional smile, she came around the counter and handed Edwards his key. "I'll ride up with you to show you the codes," she offered, turning away from the reception desk. _And when I get back down, I'll tell Carly to shape up or stay home this week,_ she thought.

After a moment, Edwards followed her, and a second man she hadn't noticed got into the elevator with them. She eyed him for a moment, wondering what part of the celebrity entourage he filled.

He must have felt his eyes on her, because he turned and offered her a toothy smile. "I'm Davis Capelli, Carter's manager." He reached for her hand and gave her a too- vigorous shake. "And you are?"

"Lynne Sanderson," she said, resisting the urge to wipe her hand on her skirt once he'd released her. Capelli's hand was sweaty, and he reeked of cologne, but Lynne kept her smile polite and professional. "I'm shift manager here at Regal Towers."

"Wonderful, wonderful," Capelli said, not meeting her eyes.

She cleared her throat. "There's a passcode to the Princess Suite, both for the elevator and the door to the suite," she explained, focusing on the movie star and trying not to notice the way her throat was suddenly dry. "So there's no chance of any other hotel guests accidentally winding up there and disturbing your privacy." She swiped her card and typed in the code, aware that Edwards was watching her closely. "We change the code every week, too, and no one but the guest and a few elite members of staff have access to the top floor." She glanced up, meeting his startling green eyes, and for a moment she almost forgot what she was going to say. "Um," she said, struggling to get her thoughts together, "are you staying more than a week?"

Edwards shrugged. "We'll have to see how things go," he said, his lips curving into a hint of a smile.

Was Lynne imagining things, or had she heard a double meaning behind his words? She shook her head. _Stop acting like a star-struck little girl,_ she admonished herself. _He's just a guest. Just like any other guest._ She glanced at Edwards out of the corner of her eye. _A guest with billions of dollars and a face that's been on more magazine covers than I can count._

"What are your plans in New York?" She asked, struggling to maintain a detached, professional demeanor.

Edwards opened his mouth, but before he could respond, the elevator doors swung open, and Capelli headed down the hall. "Come on, Carter," he said, jerking his hand toward the Princess Suite. "Tight schedule."

The movie star looked at Lynne, and for a second she couldn't figure out what he wanted. "My key?" He asked, holding out his hand.

"Oh!" Lynne fumbled with the key and handed it to him. An electric current raced up her arm from the brief contact with him, and Lynne jerked her hand back as if she'd been scorched. "I'll have someone bring up your luggage," she said, fumbling for something, anything, to say.

Capelli shoved a five dollar bill in her hand. "That'll be fine, Laura. The car's at the curb." Putting his hand on Edwards' shoulder, he steered the celebrity toward the Princess Suite.

"It's Lynne," Lynne said softly, but neither man looked back at her. Shaking her head, she closed the elevator doors, her fingers turning her bracelet around her wrist furiously. _God, I hope I didn't totally screw that up,_ she thought, her shoulders slumping as she replayed the interchange in her mind. _Maybe I better send up a bottle of champagne, just as another welcome gesture,_ she decided, her mind racing. _I'll do whatever it takes to get Edwards to endorse us,_ she thought as the elevator doors opened once more. _Ass kissing included._

### CHAPTER THREE

Carter slumped in a chair at the bistro table, picking idly at the lilies in the vase in front of him. "Do I have to?"

"For the last time, yes. Stop acting like such a baby," Davis said, pocketing his phone and glaring at Carter. "It'll be good for your image."

Carter had known his ex-wife had been making all the right waves with her Broadway production of _Guys and Dolls_ , but he hadn't really considered the fact that he'd have to see her if he wanted to make a go of the stage himself. Sure, he had figured they might bump into each other at some event or another, but Davis had bought a pair of front row tickets for Moyra's performance that night, citing it as the perfect "see and be seen" for Carter.

_It sounds like my version of hell,_ Carter thought, staring listlessly at the flowers.

His manager clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Cheer up, Carter. You're a professional; it shouldn't be hard to act like you're proud of her, right?"

Carter shook his head. "Right. Easiest thing I can think of." He sighed. "Do I really have to do this?"

Before Davis could say anything, there was a tentative knock at the door to the suite. Pushing out of the chair, Carter hurried to open it, thankful for the interruption.

The no-nonsense manager, the one who'd checked him in the previous afternoon, stood there, holding a vase of fresh flowers in one hand while reaching for the door with her other. "Oh," she said, peering around the floral arrangement. "I'm sorry, Mr. Edwards. I didn't know you were here." Shifting from foot to foot, she glanced at the flowers. "I'll come back later. I'm sorry to disturb you." She turned to leave, but Carter held the door wide, a smile plastered on his face.

"That's quite all right. Don't let me get in the way of any freshening you wanted to do. Please," he added, glancing over his shoulder at Davis, "come in."

She hesitated for a moment on the threshold, but finally, she stepped into the suite. "Housekeeping forgot to change out the flowers," she said apologetically. "I thought I could swap them out before you came back."

He had been out that afternoon, which was probably why he'd missed the housekeeping staff, but he and Davis had just returned from his first audition a few moments before the woman---what was her name?—showed up. "Don't worry about a thing. Take the time you need," he said, hoping that Davis would drop their earlier conversation about him making an appearance at Moyra's show that night.

No such luck. As soon as the woman—Lynne, that was it!--was inside the suite, Davis started in again. "You have to start somewhere."

Carter shoved his hands in his pockets. "I _am_ starting. I thought the auditions went well today."

Davis shook his head, ignoring the hotel manager as she leaned around him to swap the vase of flowers on the table with the one she'd been carrying. "Don't change the subject. She got here first, and now you're on her turf. You've got to make nice; you don't want the directors to think there's some unprofessional drama there, do you?"

Carter shook his head, and Davis looked triumphant.

"Going to her show is a goodwill gesture, to her and the entire rotten industry. Trust me, Carter, you're more likely to land your own show if the theatre community knows you don't hold grudges. Moyra's their darling of the month, so it's time to suck it up and be a man. Besides, there's an after party tonight, and I want you there shaking hands and oozing charm. Those people are your ticket to a show of your own."

Carter made one last appeal. "You really expect me to sit through my ex's stupid musical by myself?"

Davis snorted. "You can take a date, if you want. Who can you call on short notice?"

"There's Lola," Carter said, thinking of the fashion model he'd met on the set of his last movie.

Davis shook his head immediately. "Too much drama. You need to keep this simple, Carter."

"Okay," Carter exhaled sharply. "What about Kate?"

"And risk her having another public breakdown? Hell, no."

"Fine," Carter threw up his hands, exasperated. "Why don't I just hire an escort?"

Davis rubbed his chin. "Not a bad idea."

Carter's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

"You don't need any entanglements, Carter. A professional could be just the thing."

Carter tried to backpedal. "I was joking, Davis. I don't need to hire a hooker."

"No," Davis agreed thoughtfully. "Just somebody pretty to wear on your arm. What about her?" He jerked his thumb at the hotel manager, who had been silently straightening pillows and adjusting the curtains the entire time. She looked up, startled, and Carter realized that she must have been listening intently to their conversation.

"What?" She said, crossing her arms in front of her chest nervously. "I'm not—I don't—" she sputtered, unable to finish the sentence.

Davis sashayed over to her. "Laura, baby. We know you're not that type of girl," he said smoothly, turning on the charm.

She glared at him. "It's Lynne. And you're damn right I'm not—" she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, Carter noticed that they were almost lavender. _I wonder if she's wearing contacts,_ he thought, his eyes skimming her face _._ She tried again. "I'm sorry, Mr. Capelli, but that kind of thing is _not_ part of my job description."

Carter could tell she was angry, but she was trying so hard not to piss either of them off. _She's a professional, at least_ , he thought, his eyes traveling down her body. Despite the bulky suit coat she wore, he thought he saw a hint of some curves hiding under her hotel uniform, and he studied her, considering, but then he shook his head. "She doesn't want to, Davis." _The only thing worse than facing Moyra would be doing it with a woman who has to be talked into being seen with me._

"Hear me out," his manager began, dividing his look between Lynne and Carter. "You need a date, correct?"

Carter nodded, his stomach sinking at his manager's calculating expression. "If you're going to force me to go to this thing."

Davis ignored him and looked at Lynne. "And I'm guessing that you need a celebrity endorsement from your distinguished guest for this shabby little hotel. Am I right?" He cocked an eyebrow, and Lynne's jaw tightened.

After a moment, she gave a curt nod, and Capelli clapped his hands.

"Bingo. We've got something you want, and you've got something we want."

Lynne glared at him. "I'm _not_ an escort."

Carter shook his head. "Davis, this is ridiculous."

The manager just grinned. "Tell you what," he said, sidling up to Lynne. "You make yourself available to my boy here for a few nights out on the town, and I guarantee he'll give this hotel the best review you've ever had."

She bit her lip, obviously torn, and Carter realized there was something charming about her. He swallowed, actually considering Davis's suggestion. Lynne glanced at him, and then she frowned. "If I do this," she began, "we both know going into it that there will be no kissing...or anything else," she said, waving her hand vaguely. "Right?"

Carter glared at his manager. "Seriously, Davis? This is the best you can do for me? She doesn't even like me!"

Davis grinned. "Which makes this all the more perfect. Remember, Carter, you don't need anything messy...nothing the press can sink their teeth into. Besides, she's pretty enough."

Lynne snorted. "I'm so glad I pass inspection," she said, acid in her voice.

Davis ignored her tone. "So, we've got a deal?"

Lynne hesitated, and then she glanced at Carter. "I guess I'm game if he is."

Before Carter could speak, Davis grabbed her hand and gave it a rough shake. "Wonderful. You'll be going to a show with him tonight, and the after party later." He eyed her drab hotel uniform. "You do have something better to wear, I hope?"

Lynne rolled her eyes. "I think I know how to dress myself."

"Still," Davis said, tipping his head to one side, "you might want to go shopping. Wherever he goes," he said, jerking his thumb at Carter, "cameras are sure to follow." He pulled out his wallet and handed her three crisp hundred dollar bills. "Get a blow out or something," he said, waving the money in her face.

Lynne clamped her teeth shut and crossed her arms, refusing to take the money. "Seriously?"

Carter kind of liked how feisty she sounded, but he realized he was about to lose his date if he didn't step in. "Whatever you want," he said, plucking the money from his manager's hand and offering it to her with his most charming smile. "I want you to feel beautiful tonight."

Lynne studied him. "No," she said slowly, "you want me to _look_ beautiful." She sighed, glancing down at her clothes before she took the money from him. Her fingers skimmed his palm, and Carter bit back a shiver at the unexpected contact.

Lynne cleared her throat and looked away. "How formal are we talking?"

Carter shrugged. "Suit coat for me," he finally offered. "So maybe something simple, like a cocktail dress?"

"Something understated," Davis chimed in. Lynne and Carter both gave him a look before Lynne pocketed the money and headed for the door.

"I'll figure it out. Um," she hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at Carter. "Should I meet you there?"

Davis answered before Carter could even open his mouth. "Of course not! Part of the whole point is to make sure you're seen arriving together. Be in the hotel lobby at six. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "you can't tell anybody about this. I'll have a confidentiality agreement drawn up for you to sign tonight."

Lynne blanched. "I'll be outside the hotel," she said, slipping out the door and closing it softly behind her before either man could respond.

When she was gone, Carter raised an eyebrow at his manager. "You seriously think this will work?"

Davis grinned. "You needed a date, I found you a date. Don't say I never give you anything."

Carter shook his head, his glance trailing to the door. "I don't know. She doesn't seem that interested."

"Which makes her all the more perfect. You don't need entanglements, Carter; you just need a second wind career-wise."

Carter sighed. "Is the confidentiality agreement really necessary?"

Davis nodded firmly. "You don't want her selling you out to the tabloids, do you? Think how that would sound: 'Carter Edwards has to Hire a Date.'"

Carter shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but the words stung. "Fair enough." _Am I losing my edge?_

His manager turned away. "Look at it this way; now you can schmooze with Moyra without looking like some love struck fool. At least she's pretty enough," Davis added as an afterthought.

"Yeah," Carter said softly, remembering her violet eyes. He hadn't really noticed Lynne when he checked into the hotel, but now that he'd had time to study her face, he realized she was more than simply "pretty enough". And maybe, after she'd spent some time with him, her brittle demeanor would soften a bit. Carter smiled, wondering what it might take to get Lynne to drop her professional act and be a real date. Despite himself, he almost started to look forward to the evening.
CHAPTER FOUR

Lynne pressed her back against the rear wall of the elevator and closed her eyes. _Did that really just happen?_ Her hands strayed to the pocket of her coat, but the money was still there.

Her eyes popped open. "Oh, my God, I'm going out with Carter Edwards!" Sure, it was just a business arrangement, but Lynne couldn't help being a little bit excited. She'd loved his movies ever since his breakout role in that corny action movie a decade ago, and she always saw his films in the theaters instead of waiting to rent them, even the ones that were too ridiculous or gory. She'd never gone so far as to join his fan club or anything silly like that, but Lynne always clicked on any online headlines that included the movie star's name. Every woman she knew was in love with him, and she was the one he'd be spending time with while he was in town.

_Nobody will believe it,_ she thought as the elevator doors slid open, depositing her to the lobby. Her smile faded as she walked across the reception area. _Not that I can tell anybody._ It wasn't just the confidentiality agreement that bound her, she realized: if her boss found out what she was doing, Lynne was sure she'd wind up out of a job. Regal Towers had a strict non-fraternization policy between hotel staff and guests, and Lynne didn't think that her excuse of getting Edwards to endorse the hotel was going to fly if the owners caught wind of her bizarre agreement with the movie star.

She bit her lip and glanced around the lobby nervously. _I should have insisted on meeting him there tonight_ , she thought, trying to figure out where she could wait for him that wouldn't be too conspicuous. _That was really stupid of me._

Someone tapped her shoulder and Lynne whirled around guiltily. Carly was standing there, a confused expression on her face.

"Why are you so jumpy all of a sudden?"

Lynne shrugged, smoothing her coat and tugging on the hem. "Too much caffeine, I guess."

Carly rolled her eyes. "No such thing. But anyway, I just wanted to check in with you before I take my break."

Lynne nodded, pushing her mind away from her impending date with Edwards. "Fine. Be back in an hour."

Carly nodded, but then she hesitated. "Did you—did you see him today?"

"See who?"

"You know," Carly dropped her voice. "Carter!"

Lynne flinched. "We can't talk about him staying here, Carly. You know that."

Carly bobbed her head apologetically. "I know, I know. I was just wondering if you'd seen him today."

Lynne debated lying, but she didn't see the point. "I was just swapping out the flowers in the Princess Suite. He was there."

Carly clapped her hands together, but Lynne gave her a hard look. "Okay," the girl said, a giddy smile on her face. "Just wondering. I, um, I guess I'll take my break now."

Lynne nodded, but her stomach was jumping around as she thought about what would happen if anyone found out about her agreement with Edwards. _God, why did I agree to do this? The endorsement won't be worth anything if I lose my job over it._

She spent the rest of her shift worrying, and she'd almost convinced herself that she should go back up to the penthouse and tell the movie star that she'd reconsidered, but she didn't know what she'd say if her boss asked her why she'd made the trip to the Princess Suite twice in one day. _Damn those security cameras_ , she thought.

Even though she knew she shouldn't go out with Edwards, at the end of her shift her feet led her to a huge department store a few blocks away, and soon she was trying on an armful of dresses in the small changing room. There wasn't a mirror in the dressing room, so each time she slipped on a new dress, Lynne had to step into the rear of the store to check her reflection in the three-way mirror taking up the back wall.

She eyed herself critically, trying to figure out which look would go best with a celebrity. Lynne shook her head wryly. _If I'm going to go through with this, I've got to stop thinking like a star struck fan. It's business, that's all_.

She tugged on the neckline of a lacy black dress and studied her reflection. Despite years of running, her body had never let go of its curves, and the dress hugged her in all the right places. It was fancier than anything she owned, and while it wasn't the type of dress she'd usually go for at all, she reminded herself that she didn't usually have to dress to be seen.

Remembering what Davis had said, she frowned. Would the paparazzi really show up to a Broadway play, just because Carter Edwards was there? "I never should have agreed to this," Lynne said to her reflection, feeling her stomach clench with sudden paranoia.

A salesclerk materialized at her side as if she'd sensed that she was about to lose the sale. "You look stunning," the woman gushed, reaching for Lynne's shoulders and forcing her to turn around. "Just look at how the dress accentuates your body!"

Lynne looked over her shoulder, taking in the way the dress clung. The lacy hem stopped just above her knees, revealing legs that were sleek and toned, and Lynne sighed. She knew she looked good, but now that she'd started to worry, she was having a hard time recapturing her earlier excitement. "Thanks," she told the clerk without any enthusiasm. "It's for a show."

The woman nodded. "You'll be perfect in that. How are you going to wear your hair?"

Lynne shrugged. "Down, I guess." She never really bothered much with her mane of dark hair; it was too thick to style quickly, and she'd learned through trial and error that a loose bun at the nape of her neck was her fastest option when she was getting ready for work. Still, Davis's suggestion of a blow-out surfaced in her mind, and she wondered what she'd look like if she took that kind of time with her hair.

The clerk studied Lynne's face, and then she nodded slowly. "And smoky eye makeup would be just the thing."

Lynne glanced back at the mirror. She rarely wore makeup, but she thought she could pull off the look the clerk was talking about. "Thanks," she said, checking her watch. "I better go if I'm going to get ready in time." She hurried back to the dressing room and changed back into her work clothes, hanging the dress carefully on its hanger before heading up to the register. She winced at the price of the dress, but she forked over some of Davis's cash and tried to push away her impulse to put the dress back and find something cheaper. The clerk had to call a manager over to check the bills, and Lynne stood there, shifting uncomfortably on her feet, while they conferred. _God, I hadn't thought about that,_ she thought as the clerk finally handed her the dress bag and her change. _They probably think I'm some mobster's girlfriend._

Embarrassed, she headed away from the register, clutching her purchase tightly. She didn't have time to make it all the way to her apartment in Bay Ridge and back to the hotel before the fake date; on a good day, the round trip took her close to two hours. _I really didn't think this one through,_ she realized. _Where am I supposed to get ready?_ Lynne hesitated, but then she decided to stop at the makeup counter in the department store.

Carrying her bag, Lynne consulted the map near the escalator and headed to the third floor, where she took the sales clerk's advice and asked the makeup artist to do her eyes. When she checked her reflection in the small hand mirror the woman handed to her, Lynne did a double take. The silver eyeshadow made her eyes look even brighter than usual, their lavender glow enhanced to something approaching lilac. Lynne knew she wouldn't have been able to pull that look off on her own, and she smiled at her reflection as she tipped the makeup artist. Checking her watch one more time, Lynne hurried to the restroom to change.

_This would be so much easier if I could just go back to Regal and change in the staff lounge,_ she thought, struggling to get the dress zipped up without touching the flimsy stall walls. _At least I'm already wearing pantyhose from work!_

She shoved her uniform into the garment bag and stepped out of the stall, giving herself the once-over in the horizontal mirror. Her shoes were plain, the practical black flats she wore for work, but the dress and makeup made her look chic and glamorous, even with the boring shoes. _But my hair's all wrong,_ she thought, studying the bun. Bending over, she shook her long dark hair out before tossing her head back and standing up again. "Better," she told her reflection with a half-smile. "Now, let's get this over with."

Her stomach churned as she walked back to the hotel. Glancing around the street, Lynne stood awkwardly off to the side of the main entrance, trying not to look at anyone who walked by. She hoped Edwards came down soon; she didn't want to risk explaining to one of the other employees why she was all dressed up and loitering outside Regal Towers.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait long; Edwards pushed through the revolving door and glanced around the sidewalk. His eyes skimmed over Lynne, not seeing her, but then he looked again, and he flashed the smile that made millions of moviegoers fall in love with him. Her heart fluttered at the thought of spending an entire evening with him, but Lynne forced herself to take a deep breath. _This is just business_ , she reminded herself firmly. _Don't be a star struck idiot._

Lynne swallowed nervously as she walked up to Edwards. "You look lovely," he told her, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

Lynne flushed at the unexpected feeling of his breath against her skin. "Thank you," she finally managed to say.

Without another word, he held out his arm to her, his eyes still locked on her face, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. A shiver coursed up her spine at the contact, but she tried to ignore the sensation. _This isn't a date,_ she reminded herself firmly. _None of this is real._

"Let's get this over with," she said, her voice breathy despite her best intentions.

She'd wanted to annoy him enough that he'd stop staring at her like that, but Edwards only chuckled. "Not what my dates usually tell me," he teased, leading her to the waiting sedan at the curb.

Lynne felt heat race up her torso at his suggestive tone, but she forced herself to ignore the sensation. "Remember, this isn't a date. It's business," she said, repeating her thoughts out loud.

He paused, but then he nodded, opening the door of the car for her. "I know. But that doesn't mean it has to suck, right?"

Lynne considered his question, and then she shook her head. "I guess not." She lingered uncertainly on the sidewalk for a moment. "Thank you," she offered as she finally slid into the car, setting the garment bag at her feet.

Edwards slipped in after her, nodding briefly to the driver. "Of course." He paused, studying her face. "You really aren't one of my fans, are you?"

She bit her lip, wondering if it would be worse to lie to him or tell him the truth. _What would he say if he knew that I've seen all of his films at least twice?_ There was no reason to tell him that, or to tell him that she'd been as giddy as Carly when her boss told her that he would be the first guest in the Princess Suite who was entirely her responsibility. "Not a big movie person," she lied, hoping she sounded bored and disinterested.

Edwards chuckled as the car pulled smoothly into traffic. "Me neither, anymore. That's why I'm in New York; trying to give my career a jumpstart on the stage." He glanced at her, his green eyes piercing. "But I guess you heard that upstairs earlier."

Lynne shrugged, working hard to keep her expression neutral. "I wasn't paying attention," she lied again, even though she'd heard every word.

"You're good at your job, that's for sure," he said, leaning back against the leather seat of the car. "Lucky for me, I guess," he added under his breath.

She bit her lip. "Speaking of jobs," she began, unsure of how to bring up the confidentiality agreement, "don't I have to sign something?"

He slapped his forehead with his hand. "I left it sitting up in the suite." Edwards glanced at his watch. "We don't really have time to turn around in this traffic. Do you just want to sign it after?"

Lynne felt her cheeks flush at the idea of going back to his hotel room with him after the show. "I can come by tomorrow on my shift," she finally managed to say.

Edwards flashed her another smile. "Good. We just won't mention this to Davis; he'd tell me I was an idiot to trust you, but somehow I don't think you'll be calling the papers between now and then, right?"

Lynne shook her head. "Of course not! I'd never do anything like that."

He studied her for a moment. "I don't think you will," he said slowly, as if he was seeing her for the first time. "But you'd be surprised what people will do for a few minutes of fame."

Lynne looked away. "Let's just focus on tonight. Who's Moyra?"

He snorted. "So you were listening. Moyra Ransom, my ex-wife."

Lynne vaguely remembered the tabloid explosion when they'd split up; everyone thought they were Hollywood's golden couple, destined to be together forever, but it had turned sour sometime the previous year. She hadn't connected the name with his ex, and she bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she offered, putting her hand on his knee impulsively. "Divorce is never fun."

He eyed her critically. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

She hesitated, wondering how much she should tell him. _If this was a real date, I'd never bring up divorce in the first place._ Lynne glanced at the movie star beside her, and suppressed a thrill of delight when she realized he was watching her intently. _But this isn't a real date_ , she reminded herself firmly, pulling her hand away. "Yeah," she finally said, deciding there was no harm in sharing a little bit about her personal life. "Mine was a mess." The words sounded light, but it had taken Lynne years to be able to even think about the divorce without completely losing it.

Edwards studied her, but Lynne couldn't read his expression. "How long were you together?"

"Just three years. Well," she amended, "married for three. We'd been dating about a year and a half before we eloped." Reflexively, Lynne reached for the silver cuff around her wrist, and his eyes followed her movement, but to her relief, he didn't ask about it.

"You had it worse than me," he said. "Moyra and I had only been together two years, total."

Lynne nodded. "I remember." She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth; she'd just admitted to reading the tabloids.

Edwards raised an eyebrow. "You said you weren't a fan?"

Lynne laughed self-consciously. "Hard to miss the gossip rags, even if I wanted to."

He seemed to accept her answer. "It was...rough," he admitted. "Nowhere to hide."

"I can't imagine what that must have been like," she said. "I thought facing my mother after the fact was the worst thing I'd ever done; in my family, divorce just isn't an option."

"That's hard." He paused. "Any kids?"

Lynne shook her head. "No, thank goodness. That would have been even more awful to sort out."

"Me, neither, but you probably knew that already." He gave her a half smile, and Lynne couldn't help the answering grin that crept onto her face.

"Did you ever want kids?" She paused, biting her lip. "I'm sorry. That was a personal question."

To her surprise, Edwards threw back his head and laughed. "You're kidding, right? Lynne, you're my date. You're allowed to ask personal questions."

"It's not a date," she grumbled, struggling to ignore the way her heart sped up when he said her name. "Remember? This is about business."

He shook his head. "I wish you'd quit saying that." Emerald eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, Lynne felt breathless.

_What would it be like to really date him?_ "But it's the truth," she finally managed to say, her eyes never leaving his.

"True. But wouldn't you rather just pretend you could enjoy yourself, even a little?"

His voice was silky, and Lynne felt a little unbalanced. She bit her lip nervously. "I guess," she said slowly.

He rewarded her with a genuine smile. "Good. Stop thinking of this as business. And call me Carter, for God's sake. None of this 'Mr. Edwards' stuff." He raised an eyebrow. "Got it?"

Lynne, nodded, feeling her resolve begin to unravel. "Okay...Carter," she said, enjoying the way his name felt in her mouth.

Carter gave her a charming smile. "I don't usually have to convince women to be seen with me. You're...different." He swept his eyes over her face, lingering for a moment on her mouth, and Lynne resisted the urge to bite her lower lip again.

"Maybe I'll be good for your ego," she said, trying to sound as if his attention hadn't filled her stomach with butterflies.

He leaned across the seat toward her. "Maybe you will," he said, studying her face. "When's the last time you let yourself have a little fun?

Lynne shook her head, uncomfortably aware of just how close Carter was to her. "I can't remember," she admitted, meeting his gaze.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you've earned it."

To her surprise, tears welled up in her eyes at his words. Lynne blinked rapidly, hoping he hadn't noticed. "Yeah, well, we can't all play all the time." He had no way of knowing just how hard she'd had to work, and there was no reason for her to dump her demons in his lap, even if he was probably the most attractive man she'd ever seen.

Instead of reacting to her barb, Carter paused a moment before reaching a hand toward her face as if he was going to stroke her cheek.

Lynne pulled back before he could touch her, and looked out the window, her heart racing as she struggled to get a grip on her emotions. _What have I gotten myself into?_
CHAPTER FIVE

_Damn._ Carter shook himself and looked away from Lynne. He wasn't supposed to be attracted to her; she was his pity date, not some starlet waiting to be seduced. He glanced at her again, but she was still looking out the window. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but an honest conversation about divorce sure wasn't on the list. He hadn't really talked to anyone about Moyra; when the tabloids had already told the story, what was the sense in adding fuel to the fire by admitting that she'd left him, or that he'd flaked out on a contract because of it? _Who would have thought a total stranger would understand exactly what I've been through?_

Carter shook his head. He still didn't think Davis's suggestion was the best idea, but he wasn't ready to face Moyra alone, and since his manager had nixed his other suggestions for a date, he was stuck with Lynne. At least, that's what he'd been trying to remind himself ever since he came down from his room and saw her, dressed in that clingy black number, hovering nervously by the hotel entrance.

He risked another glance at her, his eyes skimming over her legs and up the dress that hugged her body in all the right places. His heart started to beat faster as he studied her form, but when his mind began spinning a fantasy about what she'd look like without the dress on, he shut himself down immediately. _You heard her,_ he admonished himself. _This is just business._

The car pulled up in front of the swanky bistro Davis had recommended, and Carter schooled his features in anticipation of getting out of the car, pulling on the casual half-smile that had made him famous. When he turned to Lynne, he realized her eyes were trained on him. _How long has she been watching?_

Reminding himself that he didn't care, he smiled at her. "Ready?"

Lynne gestured to the window. "This isn't Broadway."

"No, but it's customary to eat first. You know, dinner and a show?"

Lynne rolled her eyes. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

_God, was he really that awful to spend time with?_ Carter sighed. "You have to eat, right?"

She crossed her arms and leveled her gaze at him.

Carter leaned across her to open the curb-side door. "I'll take that as a yes." His arm brushed against her thigh, and even through his coat, he felt a pulse of heat from the contact. Lynne sucked in her breath, and Carter repressed a satisfied chuckle. _I guess she's not as rigid as she looks,_ he thought, tilting his head closer to Lynne's face for a moment before he slowly pulled back.

She didn't say anything, just scrambled out of the car like she'd been burned, and Carter had a genuine smile on his face as he slid across the seat after her.

There weren't any reporters waiting on the curb, but Carter didn't let himself relax. He tried to make small talk with Lynne while they waited for their meal, but she answered him with monosyllables and sharp glances, so Carter finally gave up. _You'd think she'd be happy to be out with a celebrity,_ he thought grouchily as they finished their food in silence.

Before they could leave, a couple of college-aged girls approached the table. One was giggling, but the other flipped her hair over her shoulder and tried to look confident. Carter greeted them with a smile, signing the notebooks they held out with a flourish, and he waved at them as they retreated, staring at his autograph like it was the best thing that had happened to them all week.

When he turned back around, Lynne was studying him. "Doesn't it ever get old?"

Carter pretended not to understand. "What, dining in New York? Something I always look forward to."

Lynne shook her head. "Never mind," she said, setting her napkin down and pushing her chair back. "Are you ready to go?"

Wordlessly, he paid the check and offered her his arm, and after a beat, she plastered a smile on her face and took it. Carter wished he could tell her that he hated signing autographs almost as much as he hated flying; he was dyslexic, and he'd been known to misspell his name more times than he cared to count. But after that genuine moment in the car earlier, Carter didn't want to drop his guard around Lynne. Sure, it would be nice to have someone he could actually talk to, but that wasn't why he was in New York. _Besides,_ he thought as they walked arm in arm toward Time Square, _She's made it perfectly clear that she's not interested in anything but business._

They walked to the theatre in silence, but Carter grabbed the door and held it open for Lynne, even as she reached for it herself. She glanced at him, and her demeanor seemed to soften.

"Thank you," she finally said, giving him a small smile.

Carter grinned at her for a moment, and then schooled his features. _What's wrong with me? It's not like I can't make women fall for me at the drop of a hat...so why does that little smile from her feel like I won first prize?_

A few people gestured to him in the lobby, and he heard the undecided whispers as they tried to figure out if he really was who he looked like, but Carter ignored them. Smoothly, he handed the usher his tickets, and then he gestured for Lynne to walk ahead of him. His eyes strayed to her hips, and he gave himself a mental shake.

When they were seated, Lynne looked around the theatre with interest. "I'd heard this revival is pretty good, but I hadn't made time to see it yet."

Carter shrugged. "It's been getting rave reviews," he admitted with a twinge of jealousy. _Leave it to Moyra to make a splash without even trying._

Lynne seemed to read his uncharitable thoughts, and she glanced at the play bill in her lap. "Which part is she playing?"

"The lead, who else?" Carter didn't really like musicals, and he hadn't paid attention when Davis had briefed him on Moyra's character that afternoon.

Lynne flipped open her play bill. "There are two female leads in this show," she told him, her eyes skimming the cast list. "She's playing Sarah."

"Good to know," Carter said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"I always thought Adelaide was a better role, personally," Lynne offered. "More personality."

Carter looked at her, and then he chuckled. "She never had much personality," he admitted quietly. He was gratified when Lynne smiled at him, her violet eyes dancing. _Maybe this won't be such a bad show after all._

When the curtain lifted, he tried to focus on the stage, but within minutes, he'd given up. Musicals might as well have been a form of torture as far as he was concerned, and just because Davis had forced him to go to the show, that didn't mean he needed to actually pay attention. But despite his thoughts on musicals in general, he noticed that Lynne was watching the stage with rapt attention, and he smiled when he caught her unconsciously mouthing the words to the songs.

Even though he knew he shouldn't, he couldn't keep himself from fantasizing just a little bit about what it would be like to lean over and brush his lips against her temple in the semi-dark of the theatre. Her skin would feel soft against his mouth, he was sure, and he had a feeling that he wouldn't smell anything but Lynne: she didn't strike him as the type to pour on a lot of perfume, which was fine with him. He'd actually always thought low-maintenance women were sexier than anyone gave them credit for, but he had to admit that he loved the way she'd done her makeup; he hadn't remembered her eyes looking quite so bright when he'd seen her earlier up in the penthouse.

The lights in the theatre came up suddenly, and Carter shook himself out of his daydream. He smiled brightly at Lynne. "Intermission already?"

She nodded. "I'll be right back...if that's okay?"

"Of course! Just don't sneak out and leave me here," he teased, lowering his voice. "I don't think I can stand the second act without you."

She rolled her eyes, but he could still see a faint flush creeping up her cheeks before she slipped out of her seat and joined the crowd in the aisle. Carter chuckled to himself and leaned back, tipping his head up to study the ornate ceiling of the theatre.

"Edwards, is that you?" A voice broke him out of his reverie, and Carter inwardly groaned. He'd been enjoying being anonymous with Lynne, but he stood up and grinned at the man like he was thrilled to see him. Wracking his memory, Carter shook the guy's hand, still smiling, but he couldn't remember his name. _He's a director; I know that much. Did I already audition for him, or is he on the schedule later this week?_

"Nice to see you," he bluffed with the smile.

The director pushed his thick glasses up his nose. "Likewise. I must say, we were all impressed by your reading this afternoon."

Shifting through the auditions he'd been to that day, Carter finally placed the guy. "That's good to hear, Mr. Spinelli. It's been a long time since I've done anything on the stage; I was worried I'd be too rusty."

Spinelli shook his head. "Not at all, not at all. I'm sure you'll find a show that's a perfect fit. Have you considered going for any of the more avant-garde productions?"

Carter shrugged. "I don't know. Davis has been keeping his ear to the ground, though. Did you have any suggestions?"

The director adjusted his glasses again. "No, nothing comes to mind, but I know that having a big name like Carter Edwards could make a little experimental show a success. You might consider checking off-Broadway and see if anything appeals, too."

_And waste my time on a show that won't deliver a paycheck? No, thanks._ Carter forced a smile. "I'll consider it." He waved to Spinelli, and he wondered fleetingly if the conversation had been the director's way of letting him know he didn't get the part. His chest clenched at the thought; even though he hadn't really been invested in any of his auditions that far, he didn't want to wash out before he'd even begun, and the quick interchange with Spinelli had rattled him.

Lynne came back to her seat, and she cast a curious look at his face. "What happened?"

He pulled himself together and gave her a casual shrug. "Just bored, that's all."

She looked like she was about to say something, but then she clicked her mouth shut and flipped open her playbill. For a moment, Carter wanted to tell her the doubts he was having about his ability to give his career a facelift, but luckily, the orchestra started up before he could speak, and Lynne lifted her face to the stage with a smile. _She's actually enjoying the show,_ Carter thought, watching her for a moment before he turned his gaze back to the performance. Throughout the second act, though, he paid more attention to Lynne, listening for her reactions and sometimes deliberately brushing his arm against hers on their shared armrest. Every time he touched her, Carter felt a delicious shiver course through him that had nothing to do with the play. _Maybe I can convince her that this shouldn't just be about business._ Carter grinned as that dangerous thought went through his mind, and he glanced sideways at Lynne again. This time, she was staring back at him, and their eyes locked for a moment before she pulled her attention back to the stage. It was hard to tell in the dark theatre, but Carter thought he saw a blush staining her cheeks, and he smiled to himself, wondering what it would take to start something real with the woman beside him.
CHAPTER SIX

Lynne wasn't sure what to make of Edwards. She thought she'd almost seen a glimmer of a real person a couple of times that evening, but the glimpses were gone before she could react, so Lynne brushed them aside and told herself to stop worrying if he was fake or genuine. _This isn't a date_ , she reminded herself for the umpteenth time as she sat beside him in the dark theatre, resisting the urge to hum along to _Guys and Dolls_.

Still, when her arm accidentally brushed against his during the second act, Lynne felt a delicious shiver slip through her body. _The sex appeal is real_ , she finally decided, pulling her hand back and keeping it in her lap for the rest of the play. _He couldn't fake that. But that doesn't mean I have to react._

By the time the curtain dropped, Lynne had almost managed to shut down the part of her mind that was attracted to Edwards's charm. She stood as soon as the lights came back up, and was surprised when she felt a firm tug on her hand. Tingles raced up her arm and she pulled away before shooting a curious glance at Carter.

He gestured to the aisle crammed with people. "Might as well sit for a little bit; no sense fighting the crowds."

Lynne knew he was right, but she had no idea what to say to pass the time. Reluctantly, she sat back down beside him, angling her body slightly to face him. "Um," she began, "did you like the show?"

He snorted. "Musicals aren't really my thing, but it wasn't bad." He paused, his brow furrowing. "I better make sure Davis doesn't throw my hat in for any musicals," he added, lowering his voice.

Lynne shook her head. "Well, _I_ liked it. This show's always been one of my favorites."

Skeptical green eyes met her own. "Seriously?" He glanced at the velvet curtain obscuring the set before turning back to her. "Why?"

His gaze made her palms start to sweat, and Lynne swallowed. "It's got all the best songs."

Edwards raised an eyebrow. "You like the music? Not the romance?"

She laughed. "When you think about it, it really isn't that romantic; a couple of women try to get guys to change for them, but at the end, the men are still mobsters and the girls tag along for the ride."

He shook his head. "I thought women loved the bad boy."

Lynne rolled her eyes. "Not all women."

He studied her face. "So tell me," he said slowly, "what you'd consider romantic?"

Her pulse jumped. "None of your roles," she said tartly, even though she'd loved him in just about every movie he'd done. _No reason for him to know that,_ she reminded herself. _This is business, not pleasure._

"I think we've already established that you aren't my biggest fan. But I'm curious," he said, leaning forward slightly. "What's your brand of romance? Flowers and chocolate? Long walks on the beach?"

Lynne forced a laugh, even though she was having a hard time thinking straight the closer Edwards got to her face. "I don't know. I've always thought the Statue of Liberty was a pretty romantic spot."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "We are talking about _romance_ , right? Not, I don't know, sites of historical interest?"

"You can see the whole city from out there, especially if you go up into her crown, but it's a spot a lot of people miss, since it takes time to catch the ferry to get out to her island."

Edwards studied her. "So it's the view, or the Statue herself that does it for you?"

"Both," she admitted, warming to her subject. "Did you know she was originally designed as a lighthouse in Egypt?"

He shook his head incredulously. "Really?"

She nodded. "That was Bartholdi's original design, but the project ran out of money, so he looked for a new home for her." Lynne paused, noticing the strange look Edwards was giving her. "What?"

"I don't meet many people like you," he said slowly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He stood up abruptly. "Never mind. Let's get out of here. We still have to put in an appearance at the after party." He gestured to the now-clear aisle, and Lynne reluctantly turned away. She wanted to ask him what he meant by the last comment, but part of her wasn't sure she really wanted to know. _What kind of people would a celebrity be used to?_ _Pretty, wealthy, fascinating?_ Lynne bit her lip. _I'm not really any of those things,_ she thought as she headed up the aisle in front of Edwards. She gave herself a shake. "It shouldn't matter," she reminded herself firmly.

"Sorry, what was that?" Edwards was right behind her, and Lynne swallowed. She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud.

"Nothing," she said cheerily. "Now, where's the after party?"

He consulted his phone. "There's a private club around the corner. Looks like that's where we're supposed to be."

Lynne hesitated. "Is this dress okay? I didn't realize the party would be formal."

His eyes traveled slowly over her frame, making Lynne uncomfortably aware of the attention he was paying to every inch of her. "You look delicious," he finally said, his green eyes bright.

She crossed her arms, hoping he couldn't see the way her pulse had started jumping at her throat. "That's not an answer, but it'll have to do."

He walked up the aisle toward her and deliberately slid his hand around her waist. Even through the dress, Lynne felt the heat of his touch, and she tried to pull away. Edwards tightened his grip gently. "Remember," he said, his face hovering dangerously close to hers, "you need to act like my date. At least pretend to like me."

After a moment, she nodded, unable to take her eyes away from his smoldering gaze. For a moment, they stood frozen, his lips dangerously closer to hers, and Lynne wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He seemed to read the thought in her eyes, because he brought his face closer. Lynne parted her lips, trying to decide if she was a fool for wanting this or not, and she closed her eyes reflexively.

Instead of the pressure she'd expected on her mouth, Lynne felt a feather-light touch on her cheek. Her eyes sprang open in time to see Carter pull away with a half-smile. "That's good," he said quietly. "If you can pull that off at the party, you might even convince me."

He stepped away from her, and before Lynne could sort through her tangled emotions, he casually wrapped his hand around hers. With a gentle tug, he led her out of the theatre, and Lynne followed, torn between the urge to melt into his arms and smack him for teasing her like that. _Just because he oozes charm doesn't mean I have to fall for him,_ she reminded herself, but some of her earlier resolve had vanished in the wake of their almost-kiss.

She studied Carter out of the corner of her eye. It was hard to tell what was an act and what was reality with him, but it felt like the kiss might have been the real thing, if it had happened. _But maybe this is all just a game to him?_ The thought gave Lynne a strange sinking sensation in her stomach, and she was feeling subdued when they reached the after party.
CHAPTER SEVEN

Carter was enjoying the feeling of Lynne's hand in his more than he cared to admit. _If I could choose how I'd spend the evening,_ he thought, _there's nothing I'd like more than to just wander around New York with her._ It would have been a reprieve from facing Moyra, but that wasn't the only reason Carter let his mind spin a mini-fantasy about sightseeing with Lynne. Even thought they'd only spent a few hours together, he couldn't shake the sensation that she would never expect him to be anything but himself...in fact, she'd probably be angry with him if he wasn't genuine. Carter cracked a smile and glanced in her direction, but Lynne's eyes were hooded and she appeared lost in thought. Reminding himself that, for the time being at least, he was essentially on the clock, Carter tried to shift back into his confident persona. _I really shouldn't be thinking about Lynne right now,_ he reminded himself. _I should be worrying about seeing Moyra again._

The thought made him feel slightly sick, and he glanced down at Lynne. "Don't tell anybody, but sometimes, I really hate the whole celebrity thing."

"Is it hard? Having to be on like that all the time, I mean."

He considered telling her it was easy as pie, but for some reason, he didn't want to lie to her. It had been a long time since he'd had anyone he wanted to open up to, and even then, he was usually talking to people in the industry. Carter was in uncharted territory with Lynne, and he realized that he didn't want to say anything that would make her dislike him. _Probably not time to dump all my skeletons on her,_ he decided. "It's gotten easier over time," he said truthfully, although it was only a half-truth. It seemed to get both easier and harder, and Carter was getting secretly sick of all the trappings that came with a famous face.

"I know what you mean." She laughed self-consciously when he raised his eyebrow. "I mean, I know I'm not famous, but the having to be on all the time, having to keep a smile on your face, that's the same thing I do every day at Regal."

"How long have you been there?"

"About seven years. At first, I really struggled with it, juggling the stress of the job with the smile and willingness to bend over backwards for our guests, but like you said, it's easier the longer I do it."

"What did you do before?"

Lynne hesitated. "I was in retail."

Carter had the sense there was more to it that she didn't feel comfortable sharing, and although his curiosity was up, he didn't press her. "I never did retail, but I delivered papers when I was a kid."

Lynne laughed. "People still did that when you were growing up?"

He struck his chest as if he were wounded. "Are you saying I'm old?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I'm not that much younger than you, so if you're old, what does that make me?"

"How old are you?" He hadn't really tried to peg her before, but with that rich dark hair and her fit, curvy body, she could easily be in her late twenties.

"Thirty-eight," she said shyly. "And you just turned forty-five, right?"

He grinned at her. "So you do read the tabloids!"

She blushed. "Maybe once in a while."

"I knew it. You're secretly my biggest fan," he teased, watching her face for her reaction.

She rolled her eyes, but he thought he saw a smile playing around her lips.

When they got to the club, Carter flashed his standard smile at the doorman. "Hope we're not too late."

The doorman glanced at his phone. "Name?"

Carter felt his smile falter, but he plastered it back on before Lynne or the doorman could notice. "Edwards. Carter Edwards."

The guy scanned his phone for a moment, tapping the screen a few times, but then he shook his head. "Not on the list," he said simply, turning away from Carter without a second glance.

Carter clenched his jaw. _This seriously isn't happening, is it?_ He tapped the doorman on the shoulder. "I'm sure there's been a mistake. Could I speak to Moyra?"

"Look, buddy, I'm sure you mean well, but this is a private party, and like I said, you aren't on the list. There are plenty of other places in town; why don't you go find one?"

Carter tensed, and for a moment, he considered punching the obnoxious doorman, but then he felt Lynne tug on his arm. Struggling to get a grip on the surge of anger and embarrassment that was still boiling in his chest, he glanced down at her. _There goes any chance of impressing her,_ he thought. _Now she knows I'm just a washed-up has been._

Lynne met his gaze without flinching. She gestured over the doorman's bulky shoulders into the dark club. "Isn't that her?"

He glanced up, surprised to spot Moyra hugging somebody just inside the threshold. Ignoring the bouncer, he cupped his hand to his mouth and yelled, "Hey! Firecracker!"

The doorman advanced toward him, but Carter kept his eyes fixed on his wife. She'd jerked like she'd been slapped when he shouted the old nickname, and he saw her recognize him. For a moment, she paused, and Carter suddenly wondered if she'd take some kind of sadistic pleasure in pretending not to hear and letting the doorman turn him away, but then she walked toward them, a bright smile on her face.

"Firecracker?" Lynne muttered beside him.

He shrugged and lowered his voice. "The red hair is natural," he offered by way of an explanation.

Moyra reached the doorman just as he grabbed Carter's arm. "Darling!" She glided forward, her arms out, and Carter knew he had to play along. He gripped her hands and air kissed her cheek as she did the same, even though his stomach tightened at her touch. "It's been too long."

The doorman stepped back, his shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Miss Ransom. I didn't realize he was a friend."

Moyra's laugh was like breaking glass to Carter, but he forced himself to chuckle. "No harm done," he offered jovially as Moyra led him into the club. He glanced over his shoulder to find Lynne trailing him, and his chest constricted at the hurt expression on her face. _She has to be able to tell how fake this all is,_ he thought, letting go of Moyra as soon as they were inside the dark club.

She raised a perfect eyebrow. "This is a surprise," she said. Anyone watching would have thought she was thrilled to see him, but Carter knew her too well; her smile didn't reach her eyes, and neither did his.

"I just got into town," he said smoothly, "and of course I had to come see you. You were excellent!"

A tall man in a charcoal suit coat slid his hand around Moyra's waist and grinned at her with a possessive expression. "I've been telling her that for months, haven't I, darling?"

She leaned into him, and Carter hated himself for the surge of angry jealousy that shot through him. Reflexively, he reached behind him for Lynne, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward. Casually, he draped his hand over her shoulders, ignoring the way she tensed at his touch. _I'll make it up to her later_ , he promised himself.

Moyra's eyes traveled over his date with interest, and Carter felt a little thrill at the muscle that jumped in his ex's cheek. _She's jealous,_ he realized, pulling Lynne even closer to him.

"Forgive me for being such an oaf," Moyra said with a laugh. "Carter, this Hendricks. My fiancé."

The world spun for a moment, and Carter couldn't think of anything to say. His mouth was suddenly dry, and when a waiter walked by at that moment carrying a tray loaded with drinks, Carter grabbed one. "Cheers, then," he said, holding the glass up to Moyra and her fiancé before he slammed it back.

Moyra was watching him with a knowing expression. "You forgot to get a drink for your date, Carter." She emphasized the word _date_ , and Carter realized he'd also forgotten to introduce Lynne. He turned to her, expecting annoyance, but he wasn't prepared for the force of the glare she directed at him.

"This is Lynne," he said, reminding himself that he wasn't there to make a fool of himself; Davis would kill him if he wasted the opportunity to schmooze just because Moyra had ripped his heart out five minutes after he got to her party. "Lynne, Moyra and Hendricks."

Lynne faked a smile and shook Moyra's hand. "The show was a lot of fun tonight," she said.

Moyra smiled. "Thank you, honey." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "You seem like you've got your hands full with that one," she said, tipping her head toward Carter. He resisted the urge to grab another drink, instead slapping an indulgent smile on his face.

Lynne glanced up at him and then back to Moyra. "I can handle it," she said, her tone dismissive.

Carter almost laughed at the stunned expression on his ex's face; she wasn't used to people who didn't fawn over her, and Lynne's demeanor clearly threw her off. But she recovered quickly, flashing Carter a bright smile before she curled her fingers around Hendrick's arm. "It's so good of you both to come, but if you'll excuse me, I have to greet my other guests."

Another waiter passed by as Moyra and Hendricks sauntered off into the crowd, and this time, Carter grabbed a pair of glasses. "Here," he said, handing one to Lynne with a fake smile in case Moyra was still watching. "Might as well enjoy ourselves."

Instead of taking the drink, Lynne crossed her arms. "No, thanks."

Carter debated offering it to her again, but then he shrugged. "More for me, I guess." In one long swallow, he drained the first glass, smoothly depositing it back on the waiter's tray before taking a gulp from the second. God, his nerves were shot. He'd known seeing Moyra would do a number on him, but he sure as hell hadn't expected to be forced to shake hands with her new boy-toy. _Fiancé_ , he corrected himself bitterly. Why hadn't Davis warned him?

He glanced at Lynne, already feeling the edge of his pain dulled a bit from the wine. "What did you think of my wife?"

"Not as good of an actress as I would have thought," she finally offered under her breath.

Carter let out a sharp laugh, and a few people around them turned their heads. He took a step closer and leaned down, bringing his mouth alongside Lynne's ear. "In the show, or just now?"

Instead of reacting to his closeness like she had earlier, Lynne took a step away and shrugged. "Both." She glanced around the crowd, her face unreadable. "How long do we have to stay?"

Surprised at her icy tone, Carter was at a loss for words for a moment. _Did I completely imagine the chemistry between us back at the theatre?_ "I thought you were having a good time."

A flash of emotion crossed her face, but it was gone before Carter could decipher it. "I'm tired, and I have to be at work early tomorrow. So let's just get this over with."

Carter shoved his hands into his pockets. "No one's forcing you to be here, you know."

Lynne turned her cold stare on him. "No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I must have misunderstood the arrangement, then." Whirling on her heel, she stalked away from him toward the door of the club.

_Is she seriously going to leave?_ Carter admired the gesture, but he was stunned when Lynne actually walked past the bouncer and out onto the street. He started to feel antsy, wondering if she was just trying to make a point, or if he should go after her. _But I haven't even talked to any of the people Davis wanted me to meet_ , he realized with an inward groan. _If I leave now, the whole evening will be a waste._ Still, he hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on the door, but Lynne didn't reappear, and finally, Carter straightened up and plastered an easy, casual smile on his face as he started to work the room. He grabbed another drink just so he'd have something to do with his hands, and even though he'd been schmoozing for years, he felt a pang of loneliness as he chatted with Broadway's finest on his own.

Not that he blamed Lynne for leaving; the whole evening had devolved into a painful farce, and Carter knew he shouldn't have tried the possessive act when he introduced her to Moyra, but his instincts took over. All he'd wanted to do was make Moyra jealous, like some ridiculous teenager, and Carter was pretty sure his behavior had pissed Lynne off. _I'll have to find some way to make it up to her,_ he thought as he migrated around the room, talking and laughing and not giving a damn about anyone he met. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so guilty, and he only hoped Lynne would give him a chance to apologize the next time he saw her.
CHAPTER EIGHT

Lynne stalked down the sidewalk, her eyes skimming the streets for a cab. She wasn't sure who she was angrier with: Carter for acting like an idiot, or herself for leaving him alone. When Moyra introduced Hendricks, Lynne had seen a flicker of pain in Carter's face before he pulled his mask back on, and she felt sorry for him. Meeting his ex was bad enough, but then to have to find out that she'd moved on? Lynne shuddered, thankful that she hadn't had a reason to bump into John since the divorce.

Her steps slowed, and for a moment, Lynne considered going back to the ridiculous party. She could imagine how wretched Carter was feeling, and she hated the thought of abandoning him to that herd of fake people, but then she remembered the way he slugged back the drinks. Lynne clenched her fingers and kept walking.

Just because she'd been sober for nearly seven years didn't mean it wasn't still an incredible test of will to be offered a drink. Lynne had almost said yes, and that scared her: usually, she was able to rationalize and talk herself out of any temptation, but for some reason, she'd found it harder to keep her walls up when Carter had offered her that glass. _What is it about him? I feel like I can't be with him for long periods of time without starting to forget myself._ Maybe it was the movie star aura he wore so casually, despite the chinks in his armor that Lynne had glimpsed throughout the evening. She shook her head and hailed a cab. _I can't fall for the glamor,_ she reminded herself. _It's not like anything could ever be real with him._

Spending the rest of the money Davis had shoved at her on the cab, Lynne enjoyed the relative luxury of being driven back to her small apartment in Brooklyn. She tipped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, trying to sift through the evening. When had she _really_ been with Carter, and when had she been with the movie star persona?

_Why does it even matter?_ She chastised herself as she got out of the cab. "It's not like this could ever be anything real," she muttered out loud. When she got up to the door of the converted Brownstown, she reached for her keys only to remember that she'd left them in the pocket of her suit...which was tucked in a bag in Carter's car. Lynne groaned and pressed the buzzer. She waited a moment, and then the speaker crackled to life.

"Who is it?" Her neighbor's voice sounded scratchy, and Lynne cringed, realizing that the woman had probably been asleep.

"Sorry, Mrs. Abbot. It's Lynne from upstairs."

There was a pause, and then the lock clicked. Lynne slipped into the foyer, past the apartment doors on the ground floor, and headed up the old staircase.

Mrs. Abbot met her on the second floor landing, her usually floral-covered form draped in a pale pink bathrobe. Lynne felt even more guilty than she had on the stoop.

"I'm sorry," she began as her neighbor handed Lynne the spare key to her apartment.

"No worries, darlin'," Mrs. Abbot said in her lilting accent. Even though Lynne knew Mrs. Abbot had left her childhood home of Barbados decades ago, every time her neighbor spoke, Lynne could almost imagine she'd been transported to the island.

Lynne smiled at her warmly. "I appreciate it," she said, "and I hope I didn't wake you."

Mrs. Abbot shrugged gently. "This is the first time in all these years that you've needed to, so I'm not minding." She eyed Lynne's fancy dress and makeup. "Were you out with a gentleman?"

Lynne snorted before she could stop herself. "Something like that," she finally said. She hoped her neighbor didn't press for details; she hadn't thought up any story to tell people who asked who she'd been out with.

To her relief, Mrs. Abbot didn't pry. She just smiled a slow, knowing smile. "Sometimes it's more fun when they aren't gentlemen all the time."

Lynne chuckled, thinking about Carter's green eyes and penetrating gaze. "Maybe you're right." She waved as she began to climb up to the third floor, and after a moment, she heard Mrs. Abbot's door click shut behind her. _It's just too bad I won't be able to find out what kind of guy he is,_ Lynne thought with regret. _I blew any chance of spending more time with him when I walked out tonight, deal or no deal._

When she got inside her apartment, Lynne kicked off her heels and padded into her cramped kitchen. She stared into the refrigerator for a moment before opening the freezer, but even the pint of double chocolate chip ice cream didn't seem appealing to her. She imagined she could still smell the champagne, and for a moment, she wondered what the bubbles would feel like against her throat. Shaking her head firmly, Lynne gave up on the kitchen.

Instead of going to bed and trying to sleep, Lynne changed out of the black lace dress and slipped on her comfortable, worn sweat pants. _I could probably still make it to the running group,_ she thought guiltily as she settled down on the meditation pillow that she kept tucked behind her T.V. After the divorce, after she got sober, she'd relied on exercise and meditation to help her clear her head and fight off the quiet compulsion to have just one more drink, but Lynne was tired of people after the evening with Carter, and as much as she loved the other crazies who ran with her in Central Park at midnight, she was too tired to trek all the way back across town just for a jog. Instead, she crossed her legs, sitting on the familiar meditation pillow, and closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing.

Slowly, the apartment slipped away, followed less slowly by Lynne's conflicted feelings about the fake date. She'd been meditating for a long time, and she didn't usually have any trouble letting go of the day and finding her sweet spot of silence and introspection, but Carter Edwards' crooked smile kept flitting through her mind. Lynne remembered how her body heated up from his closeness in the theatre, and she thought of the moments when she'd seen snatches of the real person behind the movie star veneer. _What would it be like to kiss him?_ Firmly, Lynne pulled her mind away from the handsome movie star. She felt a flicker of irritation as the constantly submerged impulse to have a drink flared up for a moment before it, too, faded away as her breathing grew deeper and her shoulders relaxed.

When she finally opened her eyes again, the scent of alcohol was gone from her nose, and Lynne felt calm and detached. All the irritation of the evening had fled, but even as she curled up on the futon and fell asleep, Lynne couldn't stop her mind from turning, once more, to a pair of brilliant green eyes.

***

Lynne had only been at work for two hours, but she was already on her third cup of coffee. Although her meditation practice had allowed her to sleep the previous night, all the nerves that had been soothed were ragged again by the time she got to Regal Towers, and Lynne threw herself into her work, fervently hoping she wouldn't run into Carter. Part of her knew she should apologize for leaving the way she did, but even with the endorsement hanging on the line, Lynne couldn't bring herself to seek out the movie star. _He probably hates me for ditching him like that,_ she told herself as she distractedly helped a large family that was checking out hail a cab for the airport. _I'd hate me, if I were him._

She was still brooding on that thought when Carly breezed in for her shift. When Lynne saw her, she stopped chewing on her lip and stared.

Carly laughed and tossed her head. "What do you think?"

Yesterday, when the girl had left her shift, her hair had been shoulder-length and blond. That morning, it was cut to a razor sharp A-line, the tips brushing against Carly's jaw. It wasn't the cut that made Lynne stop and stare, though.

Finally, she found her voice. "It's...different, that's for sure."

Carly tossed her fire-engine red hair and grinned. "Isn't it great? I feel so sophisticated."

Lynne bit back the comment that the color sort of reminded her of a clown's wig, and forced a smile. "What made you change it?"

Carly glanced around the lobby and lowered her voice. "Well, I figured I only have one chance for... _someone_ to notice me, and I didn't want to waste it! And it seems like he has a thing for redheads."

Lynne sighed. "He's a bit old, don't you think?" Carly was only three years out of college, a good two decades younger than Carter. _I just don't want her to do anything stupid,_ Lynne told herself, even though she felt a strange surge of jealousy at the thought of Carly hooking up with Carter.

The girl frowned. "He's not that old! Besides," she added with a wicked grin as she came behind the registration desk, "I'm sure he still knows how to have fun."

_He certainly knows how to drink like a fish,_ Lynne thought. Almost immediately, she felt ashamed for the uncharitable turn her thoughts had taken, and she missed what Carly said next. There was a pause while the girl waited for a response, and then Lynne shook her head. "Sorry, Carly, I guess I zoned out. What was it?"

Carly wrinkled her nose. "I asked if he's come down yet this morning."

Lynne shrugged. "I don't think so, but then again, I haven't been paying that much attention." _Liar,_ she scolded herself. _You've been watching the elevator like a hawk._

Carly leaned on the counter and sighed. "I hope he comes by while I'm here. Aren't his eyes sexy?"

Lynne's stomach tightened as she remembered the way those eyes had studied her the previous night, flirty and full of promise. "I'm going to deal with some paperwork," Lynne said abruptly, turning to the office tucked behind the registration desk. "You can handle things up here, right?"

"Of course! Do you want me to tell you if _he_ comes by?"

"It doesn't matter," Lynne said, hurrying into the solitude of the small office and shutting the door behind her. Burying her head in her hands, Lynne took a deep breath. She spent most of her shift in the back office, but Carter didn't come down. Carly was despondent when she left for the day, and Lynne had a sick, twisted feeling in her stomach when two more days passed without either of them catching a glimpse of the movie star.

Lynne spent a lot of time hiding in the back, but that didn't mean she wasn't constantly on the edge of her chair, hoping that Carter would come down to talk to her or something. _I can't keep thinking about him_ , she told herself firmly. _He'll find me or not if he still needs a date, and hopefully he won't be angry that I left like that._ Lynne forced herself to focus on the mass of papers waiting to be sorted and filed on the desk, but even the tedious work couldn't push Carter out of her mind entirely, and her heart leapt into her throat when there was a firm knock on the office door.

Carly poked her head around the corner, and Lynne exhaled sharply. "What do you need?"

"You just got a call. From the penthouse," she added meaningfully. "The guest said he needed to speak with you about something."

Lynne's heart started pounding, but she schooled her face and tried to look professional. "I hope there wasn't an issue with housekeeping or anything this morning," she said, grasping at the first thing that came to mind.

Carly was watching her enviously. "I could run up there and check, if you're busy."

Lynne shook her head. "Thanks, but I think I better handle this."

Carly sighed. "You'll tell me what he's wearing, though, right?"

Shaking her head, Lynne headed for the elevators, trying to ignore the way her pulse was racing. _I guess I'll know in a minute if he's mad or not,_ she thought as she rode to the top floor.

Outside the Princess Suite, Lynne paused for a moment. She closed her eyes, swallowing nervously as she touched the bracelet for strength. Then, pulling her shoulders back, she knocked.

The door opened almost immediately, and Carter looked at her, his face unreadable. "Can you come in for a minute?"

She nodded, her heart in her throat. _Did I completely botch the endorsement? Oh, god, he's going to have me fired. All he has to do is tell my boss I made a pass at him._ Her thoughts twisted around in her mind as she stepped into the suite. Glancing nervously around for Davis, she swallowed. "Is everything—is everything alright, Mr. Edwards?"

He frowned. "I thought we got past all that formal crap, Lynne."

She tried not to react to the sound of her name on his lips. "About the other night," she began cautiously.

Carter raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I'm—I'm sorry I ran off like that." She waited, but Carter didn't say anything. "I know it must have been hard for you to see her like that."

Carter rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, it was." He studied Lynne. "Why did you leave?"

Should she tell him the real reason? Lynne wasn't ashamed that she was a recovered alcoholic, but it wasn't something she usually went around broadcasting, either. She shrugged, embarrassed. "I guess the crowd was just too much for me," she finally offered.

Green eyes met hers. "Was it the crowd, or was it me?"

"Both," Lynne admitted. Before she could explain what she'd meant, Davis came out of the kitchenette, and Lynne jumped guiltily.

"There's our girl," he said, his cheer sounding fake to Lynne. "Did you have a good time the other night?"

She glanced swiftly at Carter, who shook his head. _He didn't tell his manager I dumped him?_ "Fine," she said as she searched for more to say. "The evening ended too early," she finally offered.

Davis waggled a finger at her. "You're not getting attached, now, are you Laura? Remember, this is business."

Lynne snapped her jaw shut and shook her head. Before she could correct the man again, Carter jumped in.

"Lynne, Davis needs you to sign that paperwork...if that's alright?" His eyes searched her face, but Lynne still couldn't read his expression.

She paused. "I guess it's fine by me. I wasn't sure you would still...need me." She'd been about to say "want me," but she caught herself just in time. If Carter hadn't told Davis how the night had ended, there was no reason for her to give him reason to question them. _Although I don't know why he didn't say anything,_ she thought, surreptitiously studying the movie star as he moved across the room to the small breakfast table.

"Just a standard nondisclosure," he said, pointing to a stack of papers on the table. "I also added the part about the hotel endorsement, and I've already signed."

Suddenly, Lynne was desperate to get him alone so she could ask him why on earth he still wanted her to be his date after she'd walked out on him, but Davis didn't show any sign of leaving. She swallowed her questions and nodded. "Of course. I'll just read it before I sign?"

Davis laughed. "Whatever you want, sweetheart." He clapped Carter on the shoulder and pulled him off to the side while Lynne sat down. Skimming the legalese quickly, she signed underneath Carter's illegible autograph.

As she set the pen down, Davis's phone rang, and he stepped out onto the balcony of the suite. Lynne looked up at Carter awkwardly, suddenly shy to be alone with him.

"I had your suit dry cleaned. It's hanging up by the door."

"Oh. Thank you," Lynne said, surprised that he'd taken the time to think of the pile of clothes she left in his car. She bit her lip, trying to figure out what to say, and Carter took a step closer.

"I was thinking," he began, his eyes never leaving her face, "maybe we could spend some time together tonight."

Lynne's throat went dry. "What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe, I don't know, sightseeing? I bet you don't get to play the tourist very often."

Lynne snorted. "I spend enough time trying to help tourists; why would I want to be one?"

Carter shrugged. "I don't know. New York seems like the city for it, you know?"

Lynne paused, her eyes glancing toward the nondisclosure agreement. "Is this an official date?"

Carter shook his head, his green eyes dancing. "Off the record."

"Why?" The word slipped out before Lynne could stop herself. She realized she somehow sounded both whiny and standoffish. "I mean, why do you want to spend more time with me after I bailed on you at the party?"

Carter searched her face, and then he shrugged again. "I don't get a chance to spend time with people I can really talk to very often," he said slowly. "But it seems like I can talk to you."

A ball of warmth unfurled in Lynne's stomach, and she fought the urge to blush. "I liked talking to you, too."

Carter smiled. "So it's a date?"

A thrill raced through her at the word, but Lynne shook her head firmly. " _Not_ a date."

"Fine. It's a sightseeing expedition. I'll meet you at Times Square around seven?"

Lynne nodded, trying to figure out what else to say, but Davis came back inside before she could think of anything.

"You've got another audition booked this afternoon." He glanced at Lynne and forced a smile. "We'll let you know when we need you again, sweetheart."

Lynne looked at Carter, and her feet almost melted when he winked at her.

"All right," she said, a slow smile creeping onto her face.

She was still smiling when she left the penthouse, and a stifled giggle escaped her lips as she waited for the elevator.

Who would have thought I'd get this excited about sightseeing?
CHAPTER NINE

Carter fiddled with his hotel key nervously, flipping it over and over in his hand. _Was it a mistake to invite Lynne out?_ He pocketed the key and strode to the elevator, trying to feign confidence. _She could have said no,_ he reminded himself, punching the button and resisting the urge to keep fidgeting. He checked his reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator, and he ran his hand through his hair, eyeing the gray self-consciously.

When the elevator doors opened in the lobby, however, there was no trace of the nervous man. Carter Edwards strode confidently through the hotel, not glancing at the reception desk as he went, even though he wanted to check and see if Lynne was still there or if she'd already left to meet him. On the street, a gust of warm air hit him, and Carter pulled out his sunglasses as much from habit as from the evening sunlight that was still reflecting off the tops of some of the buildings. He considered hailing a cab, but then he shook his head. _Davis keeps me too cooped up,_ he thought, lengthening his stride and setting off toward Times Square. _I'll have to talk to him about walking to some of my auditions; it feels good to stretch my legs._

By the time Carter reached the bustling tourist hub, he'd stopped worrying about Lynne and whether or not his impulse to spend more time with her was a mistake, but when he saw her standing in front of a pizza place, clutching her purse and trying unsuccessfully to avoid being jostled by the crowd, he felt a surge of anticipation pulse through him. She looked up as he crossed the busy intersection, and when her lavender eyes met his, Carter resisted the urge to check his hair one more time. _Why do I want to impress her so badly?_ He wondered as he sauntered over to Lynne, forcing himself to act casual.

She gestured at the mass of people. "I forgot how crazy it is down here. Remind me again why I agreed to play tourist with you?" One of her eyebrows lifted, but despite her words, Carter could sense her anticipation and excitement that almost matched his own. At least, he thought he could, but around Lynne, it was hard to know what was real and what was all in his head.

He grabbed her arm and steered her around the throng. "Live a little," he teased. "After all, this is New York. What kind of people would we be if we didn't at least pretend to fall under its spell?"

Lynne snorted, but Carter noticed that she didn't pull away from him, and his grip on her arm tightened slightly. "What did you have in mind?"

Carter hadn't really had anything planned; he'd been looking for an excuse to spend more time with Lynne, that was all. But his eyes fell on a sandwich board sign propped up on the corner beside an old restored trolley with a makeshift viewing deck on top, idling at the curb, and Carter started to smile. "What about that?" He tipped his head toward the sightseeing tour.

Lynne laughed. "Seriously? You want to drive around the city on a bus? We could just take public transit."

Carter slid his hand down and gave her fingertips a squeeze before he released her and reached for his wallet. "I bet you five bucks you'll have fun."

Lynne's eyes flashed with determination. "That's a lousy bet; what if I just lie and tell you it sucks, just to win?"

Carter shrugged. "I think you're scared to take my bet," he said, his eyes and his words holding a challenge that he didn't entirely understand.

Lynne locked gazes with him, and for a moment, the air around them felt hot and infused with energy. "You're on."

Grinning, Carter paid the fare and gestured to Lynne. "After you."

She paused for a moment, but then she pointed to the ladder leading to the half-full viewing deck. "Want the birds' eye view?"

Carter nodded, but as Lynne climbed the ladder in front of him, he wasn't thinking about the view of the city. He was more captivated by the view of her jeans clinging to her curves as she reached the top of the trolley. Lynne leaned on the railing and glanced down at him, and Carter shook himself. _This isn't a date_ , he reminded himself fiercely as he climbed up to join her. _Stop thinking with your hormones._

There were a few other people in the rows of seats lining the top of the trolley, but by comparison to the other tour buses Carter saw waiting along the curb, they were practically alone. Reaching for Lynne's hand, he pulled her to a bench at the front of the bus, facing the street. She let him lead her, but when they sat down, Lynne pulled her hand away, and Carter was surprised that he missed the feeling of her fingers against his palm. He leaned back in his seat, trying to act casual, but he couldn't help himself; he stretched an arm across the back of the bench and shifted deliberately, bringing himself close enough that Lynne could snuggle up against him if she wanted to without it seeming obvious.

She didn't, but Carter didn't drop his arm. "Haven't you been to New York before?" Lynne asked curiously.

Carter nodded. "I've worked on two projects that shot scenes here, but when I'm working, I don't get to do corny things like take a tour around the city."

"What is it like, when you're working? I mean, do you have a trailer or a makeup artists, or..." Lynne trailed off, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Sorry. I don't mean to sound like an idiot. I've just—I've never met a movie star."

Carter winced inwardly. He hadn't wanted to keep reminding her of what he was, but here they were, barely ten minutes into the evening, and it was like he'd hung a flashing neon sign around his neck. _Movie star: look but don't touch._ He paused, considering his answer. "It's different," he began honestly. "It depends on the budget of the film. Usually, I'm spending the day shooting the same scene over and over again, but yeah, sometimes there's a trailer, and there's usually a whole team of makeup artists for the cast." The trolley jerked away from the curb and merged into the frantic traffic around them, and Carter looked down at the street. "I kind of don't want to talk about work tonight," he finally said, sneaking a glance back at Lynne.

"Oh." She chewed on her lip for a moment. "What do you want to talk about then?"

"Tell me about yourself. Have you always been a New Yorker?"

She laughed and ducked her head. "Well, technically, I live in Brooklyn now, and that's not usually what people mean when they say 'New Yorker'."

"Where did you grow up?"

"New Jersey, across the river from Philadelphia. But I came to New York for college."

"NYU?"

Lynne nodded. "What about you? Didn't you drop out of school?"

Carter eyed her thoughtfully. "I thought you said you didn't read the tabloids."

Lynne flushed again, and Carter studied her face, feeling an answering warmth begin to creep through his belly. He leaned closer to her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face just for an excuse to touch her. Lavender eyes locked on his, and for a moment, Carter wondered what would happen if he leaned even closer and brought his lips to hers. Lynne inhaled sharply as if she could hear his thoughts, but before Carter could act on impulse, Lynne looked away, breaking the spell.

"Where," she began, clearing her throat, "where did you go to school?"

_Damn,_ Carter thought ruefully, sitting back in his seat. _I have to stop treating this like a date. She's clearly not interested!_ Out loud, he said, "I was at a community college in Montana, near where I grew up, but you're right, I dropped out my last semester because a movie was shooting at a ranch nearby, and I had schmoozed my way in as one of the extras. The associate producer liked me, and told me that if I ever came to Hollywood to look him up." Carter laughed, remembering how young he'd been. "I thought he meant right then, so I dropped everything and headed to California as soon as shooting stopped."

"That took guts," Lynne said, her tone admiring.

Carter shrugged, feeling that strange desire to be honest with Lynne again. "It took stupidity more than anything, but sometimes stupid pays off. I got lucky; the guy remembered me, and told me about a few auditions, and then I just happened to show up with the right face at the right time."

"You're more than just a pretty face. I mean," Lynne said, backtracking when she saw Carter's suggestive smile, "I mean, you can clearly act, too, or you wouldn't keep getting roles."

He raised an eyebrow. "This from someone who's never seen any of my films?"

"Right," Lynne opened her mouth to say something else, but then she clicked her teeth shut and looked away. "It's weird to see the city from up high like this."

Carter looked around. He'd been ignoring the voice of the tour guide that was coming over the loudspeakers at the front of the trolley, and while they'd talked, they'd meandered away from Times Square and were now passing the facades of famous department stores. The sun had truly set while they were talking, and the streets were lit by street lights and brake lights from the clump of cars that still filled the road. "It's almost like a movie," Carter said before he could help himself.

"What do you mean?"

He struggled to explain. "The lights, the sounds, the buildings, everything feels too 'New York' to be real. It's like one big film set, something out of the golden era when coming to the big apple was supposed to make all your dreams come true."

Lynne chuckled. "If you want the real New York, you aren't going to see it riding around on a bus."

Carter shrugged. "You're probably right." He paused, studying her face. "So does that mean I lost the bet?"

Lynne smiled, and to his surprise, she scooched a little closer to him on the bench. "Ask me when the evening is over," she said, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

CHAPTER TEN

Even though it had been days since the strange sightseeing trip with Carter, Lynne still had a hard time believing it had really happened. The tour had been corny, but she hadn't minded sitting and talking with Carter, and when the bus deposited them back in Times Square, she'd told him he'd won the bet. _But it wasn't the sightseeing that was fun_ , she admitted to herself as she hurried about her duties at Regal Towers. _It was the fact that Carter Edwards almost kissed me!_

"Oh, shut up," she muttered to herself, her cheeks heating at the memory. Unless she was totally misreading the movie star, it seemed like he might possibly be interested in her. _Not that anything can come of it,_ she reminded herself firmly. She was his employee, his pity date, nothing more. So why was she feeling alternately giddy and nauseous whenever she thought of Carter's green eyes?

Carly wasn't at the front desk when the call came down from the penthouse. Lynne was sure the girl would give her the third degree whenever she got back, but even the thought of lying to Carly didn't fill Lynne with dread. She headed up to the Princess Suite with a spring in her step, even though she kept trying to rein her emotions in.

Davis answered the door, but he was talking on his cell phone. He waved to Lynne and she came in, feeling a little deflated. _What, did you think Carter was waiting up here alone to sweep you off your feet? This is business, remember._ She glanced around the suite, noticing that it still looked virtually untouched. _Either the housekeeping staff is taking their job really seriously, or Carter's not a slob like some guys,_ she thought at she looked around. Her eyes landed on the guy in question as he came out of the bedroom, buttoning the last few buttons on his shirt as he walked, and Lynne's pulse jumped. She smiled at Carter shyly, and he grinned at her, but before either of them could say anything, Davis hung up the phone and strode across the room to the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch.

"That was Harold. There's a fundraiser this weekend out at the Hamptons. Some Broadway Cares thing or something; I didn't ask for details."

Carter rolled his eyes at Lynne. "I'm willing to bet I can't just send a check, right?"

Davis clapped him on the shoulder. "He's funny, I'll give him that. Isn't he a hoot, Laura?"

Lynne glanced at Carter and then shrugged, giving up once and for all on making Davis learn her name. "Whatever you say. Did you need anything?" She directed the question at Carter, but before he could speak, Davis jumped in.

"I'll need you to clear your schedule this weekend, and get a wax. You two will head out on Friday and come back Sunday after brunch." He scratched his head, calculating. "You'll probably need at least two changes of evening wear, plus something more casual. Is that a problem?"

Lynne stared at him for a minute. "You want me to go away with him overnight?"

"Over two nights," Davis corrected. "This will be a great opportunity for Carter to rub elbows with all the right people."

Carter glanced at her. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Lynne bit her lip. _I did say I'd be available to him,_ she tried to rationalize, _but I wasn't counting on any sleepovers._

Davis interrupted before she could get her thoughts in order. "Of course she wants to; she signed the contract, didn't she?"

Carter ignored his manager, his green eyes locked on Lynne. "She doesn't have to go, Davis. It's up to her."

"I'll go," Lynne squeaked, her pulse accelerating at the thought of spending the entire weekend with Carter. "I was off this weekend anyway."

"That's settled!" Davis clapped his hands together. "Make sure you pack enough clothes for the trip, Laura."

Carter must have noticed the glare Lynne leveled at the manager, because he leaned over and reached for her elbow. "I'll pick you up Friday morning," he said, steering her toward the door to the suite before she could lose her temper with Davis. "There's an outlet mall out there we can hit, if you're worried about having the right clothes."

Lynne shook her head. "It's just a beach. I'll be fine." _Just the playground of the rich and famous._ She swallowed nervously, taking a mental inventory of her closet with a feeling approaching panic.

Carter raised an eyebrow, and then he smiled. "You'll look stunning in anything," he said, lowering his voice just enough so that Davis couldn't hear.

Heat spread through Lynne's chest, and a sappy smile slipped onto her face before she caught herself and schooled her features back to a neutral expression. She gave Carter her address, and then before he could compliment her again, she slipped out the door of the suite and headed downstairs, her heart racing.

Carly was waiting for her the minute she stepped out of the elevator. "So?"

Lynne paused, feeling guilty. "So what?"

"What's he wearing? What did he want? What was he doing? Did he have a girl with him?"

The questions came rapid-fire, and Lynne tried to keep up. "He was wearing a white button down shirt, I think," she said, her mind racing. "And he just wanted to ask me to let housekeeping know that he wouldn't be here over the weekend in case they wanted to do a more thorough cleaning," she lied quickly.

Carly's face lit up. "Where's he going?"

"I don't know," Lynne said, the lie tasting sour in her mouth.

Carly wrinkled her nose in thought. "I bet he's going to the Hamptons," she finally declared.

Lynne's palms started to sweat. "Why would you think that?"

"It's still warm enough for the beach, and besides, he's a movie star: where else would he go for the weekend?"

"I don't know," Lynne said, trying to think of something that could distract Carly from the truth. "Maybe he's going to Boston," she said, picking the first city that came to mind.

Carly shook her head, a wide smile spreading across her face. "I bet he's going to the Hamptons. Maybe I could switch my schedule and head out there, too," she said, her eyes shining. "If I just happened to bump into him, do you think he'd take me to dinner?"

A panicky feeling filled Lynne's chest, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. "Carly, you don't even know if he's going to be there."

Carly pouted. "But if I can find someone to cover my shifts, can I have the weekend off?"

Lynne shrugged, trying to stay calm. "That's between you and whoever you can con into swapping with you."

Carly grinned. "Do you want to work this weekend?"

"I can't," Lynne said automatically, and then she kicked herself for the fast reply. _Shit. What am I going to say I'm doing?_

Luckily, Carly didn't ask. "I'll call around on my lunch break," she said. "Somebody might be able to take my shifts."

Lynne spent the rest of her shift feeling sick, but by the time she left for the evening, Carly hadn't found anyone to work for her, and Lynne tried to convince herself that it would be okay, but the thought of running into Carly over the weekend while she was with Carter left her stomach tied in knots for the whole train ride back to her apartment.

When she got home, Lynne transitioned into another kind of sick terror as she stood before her closet, trying to figure out what in the world to wear for a weekend in the Hamptons with a celebrity. Despite spending most of her life in or near New York City, she'd never had an excuse to go out to the famous beaches before, and the only things Lynne knew about the Hamptons came from pop culture and Hollywood. She studied her clothes critically, wondering if the glitz and glamor that she was imagining could possibly be real.

Just when she was starting to feel desperate, a knock at the door distracted her. Hurrying to the living room, Lynne peered through the dirty peephole before opening the door in surprise.

Her neighbor, Mrs. Abbot, stood there holding a tray of cookies. "I hope I'm not disturbin' you, darlin'."

Lynne stepped back and motioned to the woman to come in. "Not at all! I was just trying to figure out what to pack for this weekend." The words tumbled out before Lynne could check herself, and she bit her lip, hoping her neighbor wouldn't ask her any questions that she couldn't answer.

The woman smiled and set the cookies on the counter. "Then I guess I baked for nothing," she said with a laugh. "I was going to ask you to pick up my mail for the next week and water the plants, but if you'll be gone, too, there's no point."

Lynne instantly felt guilty. "I'll be back by Sunday," she said, "so after that, I'd be happy to. And you didn't need to make cookies," she added with a laugh.

Mrs. Abbot grinned. "I know, but it was a fine excuse for my mango spice cookies."

Impulsively, Lynne reached for the plate and popped a cookie into her mouth. "Oh my God, these are heaven. Thank you!"

Her neighbor laughed. "My pleasure, darlin'. And thank you for checking on things for me." She paused, her sharp eyes studying Lynne's face. "Are you going away with the gentleman who isn't quite such a gentleman?"

Lynne flushed. "That's one way to look at it," she admitted, suddenly realizing that her neighbor might see Carter pick her up in the morning. "When are you leaving?" She asked, hurrying to distract Mrs. Abbot.

"First thing tomorrow," she said. "I'm heading home to Barbados for a bit to visit my cousins. And where is your man taking you?"

Lynne debated lying, but she didn't really see the point. "The Hamptons."

Mrs. Abbot whistled. "He's a fancy man, then."

Lynne laughed. "Sort of. But I'm worried I'm not fancy enough for him," she said, the words surprising her as soon as she spoke.

Mrs. Abbot eyed her critically. "He better be worrying the same thing, darlin', for you're worth whatever gentleman you decide you want."

Lynne's cheeks heated up. "Thank you," she said, uncomfortable with the praise. "But I really don't know what I'm supposed to wear for a trip like this."

Her neighbor's eyes brightened. "You stay put," she said, hurrying to the door. "I might know just the thing."

Startled, Lynne didn't protest, and Mrs. Abbot was back in a few minutes, her arms loaded with fabric. "Now, let's see what you like." She spread the fabric out on Lynne's kitchen counter, and Lynne realized her neighbor had brought an armful of dresses.

"These are beautiful!" She said, fingering the bright fabric. "But I really can't borrow your clothes," she added, reigning herself back in.

"These belonged to my daughter, but she left them behind when she went to California. Said she didn't want to look too much like the islands," Mrs. Abbot said with a derisive snort. "They're just gathering dust in the closet. If you see anything you want, it's all yours."

Lynne hadn't gotten to know Mrs. Abbot's daughter very well, but she had a vague memory that the girl had a similar body type to her, and her hands strayed back to the bright fabric without conscious thought. "They're all beautiful," she said honestly, picking up a long orange dress with pink flowers and green leaves splashed across it. The combination should have looked garish, but instead the dress reminded Lynne of a summer sunset, and she held it up to her body without thinking.

Mrs. Abbot clucked her tongue in approval. "That one would be so pretty with your dark hair. And maybe take this one, too," she said, reaching for a white dress with gold along the hem. "With the right earrings, you could wear that on a yacht!"

"I don't think we're going on a yacht," Lynne said, although it hadn't occurred to her until that moment. _Oh, God, who am I fooling? I can't schmooze with the kind of people who hang out in the Hamptons._

Her neighbor read the doubt on her face, and Mrs. Abbot reached for Lynne's chin. "Now listen, darlin'," she said, pulling Lynne's face down to hers. "You are only worth as much as you believe. It makes no never mind if I think you're fit to be a queen; you have to think it, too, or you'll never have the chance to be happy."

Unexpected tears flooded Lynne's eyes, and she nodded at her neighbor. "It's hard to think I'm worth much," she finally managed to say, struggling to get a grip on her runaway emotions. "The divorce—"

"Psh," Mrs. Abbot hissed. "Divorce is nothing but a second chance at love. But you have to take that chance," she said, her eyes serious.

Lynne tried to correct her. "I'm not in love," she said quickly. "I mean, I hardly know him." Inwardly, Lynne cringed, wondering what her neighbor would think about her now that she'd admitted she was going away with someone she barely knew, but Mrs. Abbot just smiled a slow, secret smile.

"Then let yourself have a little fun, darlin', and enjoy a bit of a vacation without worrying so much."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Carter made it through two more auditions, but he didn't really pay much attention to them. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with Lynne far more than he wanted to admit, and he was having a hard time caring about his work. Davis gave him a lecture about not losing focus on the way back to the hotel after the second audition, but Carter barely heard him.

After his manager had gone back to his own hotel room, Carter packed a small suitcase, excitement mounting. He'd considered taking a private car for the weekend, but at the last minute, he decided he'd treat it like a real vacation: Davis wasn't going to be along for the ride, and if he got to escape with Lynne for a few days, he was sure as hell going to make the most of the drive, even if he had to start schmoozing as soon as they got to the beach.

Even though Carter hated flying, he loved driving fast, flashy cars: it was one of the few luxuries he was happy to throw money at, although he'd sold his Aston Martin to help cover the costs of the divorce. It didn't take much effort to find a vintage rental company in Manhattan, and Friday morning, Carter couldn't stop smiling when he pulled up to the curb outside the address Lynne had given him.

He thought about honking the horn, but then he decided that he should probably act like a gentleman and go up to the door. Before he could squeeze into a spot, however, the door to the brownstone opened and Lynne stepped onto the porch. She was already dressed for the beach in a green and black patterned dress that skimmed the tops of her feet, and Carter couldn't keep himself from staring. Sure, she'd looked gorgeous in the black lace number the first night, but now she looked like some kind of beach goddess, complete with an oversized pair of white sunglasses and a rattan purse at her side. Carter stared at her, taking in every inch of her, and the urge to jump out of the car and kiss her crept into his mind. _Easy, boy_ , he cautioned himself. _Don't rush into anything stupid._

Lynne pulled the door shut behind her, and Carter noticed that she was also carrying a small roller suitcase. "Good morning," he called with a smile as he left the car idling, deciding not to worry that it was double parked, and hurried up to grab her bag.

"Morning. Where'd you get the wheels?"

Carter couldn't help grinning like a kid. "We Do Rentals. I figured we might as well do this weekend in style."

Lynne laughed. "There's nothing quite like a vintage T-Bird, that's for sure."

Carter reached for her suitcase and raised an eyebrow. "You know cars?"

"I know that one; I had one just like it in high school, except mine was yellow."

Carter didn't try to hide his delight. "I knew I picked the right one this morning. What ever happened to yours?"

Lynne followed him to the curb and opened the passenger door. "I rolled it the summer after graduation. The poor thing was pretty near totaled, and I don't think I've ever seen my folks so mad."

Carter stowed her bag in the trunk and got back behind the wheel. "I promise I won't flip this one." He pulled away from the curb, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. _She seems so different today; I wonder what's making her finally relax._ "If I were a gentleman, I'd ask if you mind if we put the top down."

Lynne pulled her hair back into a pony tail and laughed. "If you were a gentleman, you'd already have it down."

Carter chuckled. "Girl after my own heart. Let's drive!"

Much to Carter's delight, Lynne didn't ask him to slow down once during the drive, and she never blanched as he took hairpin curves at speeds that used to make Moyra cringe. Despite the weekend traffic, they made it to the beach in under two hours.

Davis had handled the arrangements for the weekend, and when Carter pulled up to an elegant beach house, he double checked the address on his phone before punching in his manager's number. _I can't believe he'd rent an entire beach house just for the two of us._

Davis answered the phone with his customary bluntness, and Carter didn't waste time on small talk. "It's a house. Is that the right place?"

Lynne looked at him curiously, and he shrugged when Davis confirmed it.

Hanging up the phone, he turned the key in the ignition. "He says the key's under the welcome mat, and the whole place is ours for the weekend."

Above her sunglasses, Lynne's eyebrows lifted. "We could fit three families in that house."

"That's Davis; he tends to subscribe to the 'go big or go home' philosophy of living."

Lynne followed him up the boardwalk path. "And what about you? I'd have thought that would be standard for a movie star."

Carter shrugged, bending over to retrieve the key. "If it were up to me, I'd probably end up with a little one room shack on the beach."

"Hard to find something like that out here," Lynne quipped.

Carter nodded. "The Hamptons wouldn't be my first choice of beach. I like being able to stick my toes in the sand and not worry about anything; some of the beaches out on the West Coast are pretty spectacular. There's a lot of quiet space in Oregon."

He opened the door, and instead of the whiff of musty air he'd been expecting, he caught a scent of fresh flowers. _Davis hired a cleaning company, too? I don't think I even want to know how much this place is costing._ Motioning to Lynne to go in before him, he allowed his eyes to skim down her curves as she walked ahead of him into the beach house, a flicker of arousal taking him off guard for a moment.

"So, is Davis the reason you're staying in the Princess Suite?" Lynne asked, her eyes taking in the buff paint and white furnishings of the vast living room.

He shook himself, focusing on her words. "Yeah. I'd be happy just about anywhere, but Davis wants me to act like a big deal, and that means the penthouse."

Lynne took her sunglasses off and looked at him over her shoulder. "You are kind of a big deal, you know."

The words should have felt like a compliment, but Carter hated hearing them from her. "You know that's not true. I'm just a divorced nut grasping at one last chance before my career tanks for good." He tried to keep his tone light, but some of his unspoken fear must have seeped into his words, because Lynne studied him for a moment before replying.

"I think you're the only one who thinks you need a comeback; from where I stand, you seem like you're doing just fine." She swept her hand around the room and smiled. "Besides, I don't know any other divorced nuts who get to spend their weekends in a place like this." Her tone was light and teasing, and Carter felt a smile slipping back onto his face.

"Well, takes one to know one." As soon as he said it, he wondered if she'd be offended, and he was mentally kicking himself for ever opening her mouth when she giggled.

"Fair enough." She said, smiling up at him. "How about we leave all that behind for the weekend?"

"What, pretend our messed up pasts never happened?" He tried to scoff, but the idea appealed to him. _What would it be like if we'd just been two people who met, not a movie star and a concierge with mismatching sets of baggage?_

"Not exactly. But can't we just let go of everything from the city, at least for today?"

"I still have to work this weekend," he reminded her. "That's kind of the whole point."

"But you don't have to be on while we're here in this house," she said, her lavender eyes locked on his. "You don't have to be anything other than yourself while we're here."

He considered. "Does that mean you'll drop the professional act and let yourself have a little fun, too?"

Lynne crossed her arms. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if you want me to just be myself, can't I ask the same thing of you?" He felt like an ass for bringing it up; already, the light, easy energy he'd felt since he picked her up that morning was starting to congeal, and he realized that she was putting her walls back up. Carter hurried to explain himself. "I like being with you," he said honestly, not breaking eye contact with her, "and I feel like I can't be with the real you when I'm in celebrity mode and you're my escort."

"Would we even be having this conversation if I weren't somebody your manager hired?" The brutal honesty of the question stung him, but Carter thought he heard pain in Lynne's words, too.

"Would we have had a chance to meet otherwise? I don't know." He took a step closer toward her, tension crackling in the air. "But I do know you're like no one I've ever met, and right now, I don't care how we met. I'm just glad I get to spend the weekend with you."

Lynne bit her lip, and Carter felt his eyes pulled to the movement. He took another deliberate step forward, coming less than arms' length away from her. Once again he felt the urge to reach out and kiss her.

She inhaled sharply, as if she'd read his thoughts, and Carter met her eyes again. He knew he shouldn't push it; Lynne had more walls around her than anyone he'd ever met beside himself, and he didn't want her to get scared and shut him out completely. But he couldn't seem to control himself, and his arms reached toward her, stopping just shy of actually touching her waist. He stood there for a moment, willing her to close the distance between them, to want him as much as he was starting to want her, and after a beat, Lynne lowered her arms. She didn't step into his embrace like he'd hoped, but she did drop her fingertips into his raised palms, giving his hands a quick squeeze before she let go and took a careful step back.

"I don't think it's fair for either of us to pretend we aren't who we are."

Before he could tell her that he wasn't trying to pretend, he was just desperate to spend time with her without any constraints or baggage between them, she turned away and headed for the stairs. She kept her gaze carefully away from him, and her tone sounded so casual, it cut.

"I bet there are a ton of bedrooms in this place. Do you want first dibs, or can I pick?"

Carter swallowed his disappointment and forced his crooked grin. "Whatever you want. You scout around, and I'll go get the bags from the car."

He was almost outside when he thought he heard her whisper, "Thank you," but when he turned around, she'd already disappeared up the stairs, and he wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not. _Way to ruin the weekend,_ he scolded himself. _I guess I've just been imagining the chemistry between us; I never should have opened my big mouth._
CHAPTER TWELVE

Lynne took a deep breath, trying to kill the butterflies that were rioting in her stomach. She glanced out a round window off the landing, her eyes barely seeing the breathtaking view of the seashore visible from the house. Her mind kept replaying the morning, especially that moment when Carter had looked like he was going to embrace her, and her feet threatened to melt from the memory. "Get it together," she hissed as she shook herself and opened the door to the first bedroom she came to. _Just because you're away from Regal doesn't mean either of you can get away from who you are,_ she admonished herself, trying to pretend she'd made the right decision by ignoring Carter's offer. _There's no point pretending we could ever have anything real, no matter how much I want to,_ she thought sadly.

And despite herself, she _was_ starting to want it. It was easy to pretend that she was just doing her job when she interacted with Carter back in New York, but from the moment he'd pulled up to her curb in that cherry red convertible, Lynne had plunged hard and fast for the movie star downstairs. It wasn't just his good looks or the charm that she was starting to realize was more genuine than she'd thought; it was the way he drove with one hand, the other hanging casually out the window as the miles flew by, the way he smiled when she said something that took him off guard, and the way he looked at her like she was something any man would go crazy for. Even though she'd been trying to tell herself it was all an act, she'd realized that the man beneath the glamour was somebody she wanted to know better, somebody whose presence made her feel things she hadn't felt in years. _How the hell am I this attracted to him? We haven't even kissed._

As soon as the thought flitted through her mind, Lynne shook her head firmly. "No kissing," she reminded herself. "This is business, nothing more." But it was getting harder and harder to lie to herself, especially now that they were away from the city. Shaking her head, Lynne turned toward the first door on the landing, trying to distract herself by exploring the beautiful house.

The bedroom boasted a king bed covered in fluffy white bedding, flanked by windows that looked out on the ocean. It looked romantic, like the perfect spot to curl up on a honeymoon, and then come back to celebrate a golden anniversary, too. Lynne closed the door quickly. _There's no sense in those kind of fantasies,_ she chastised herself. The next door was a bathroom, and the door beyond that was a huge linen closet, nearly the size of Lynne's kitchen back home. At the back of the hallway, Lynne noticed another set of stairs, and she headed up them, awed at the size of the house.

The stairs ended in a loft-style room without a door. Three daybeds lined the walls, and the room was surrounded by windows. _It's like a light house,_ Lynne realized, scanning the panoramic view with a smile. Unlike the other rooms she'd peaked in, this one was painted pale yellow, and the bedding was blue instead of white. _I bet this is where the kids stay,_ Lynne thought, surveying the pristine space. _This house is big enough for three families, but it looks like there's only ever one here at a time. God, I would have loved to have grown up vacationing in a place like this._

"Did you get lost?" Carter's voice broke into her thoughts and she jumped, her skin prickling as it finally sank in that she'd be sharing the romantic house with Carter for two nights.

Trying to keep her tone light, she called out, "I'm up top!"

In a few moments, she heard Carter on the second floor, opening doors as if he were looking for her. "Seriously, where'd you go?"

She laughed. "There's a third floor. I'll sleep up here."

His head emerged into the loft, and he stepped into the room, effortlessly swinging her suitcase down in front of him. "You sure? The bathroom's on the second floor."

"This will be good. Besides, I figured you'd want the king bed."

Carter paused. "We could share it, you know." He gave her a cheesy wink, and Lynne laughed in relief, even as her chest tightened at the thought of sharing a bed with him. _Thank God he's willing to joke about it._

"Not likely," she said, still smiling in an effort to keep her words playful. "You've got work to do; you should be focused on that."

His eyes shuttered, and for a moment, Lynne felt a twist of guilt that she kept pushing him away, but she tried not to dwell on the thought. "Right," he said flatly. "Work."

"What's on the schedule, anyway? Davis said there was some kind of fundraiser?"

Carter nodded, his expression impossible to read. "There's something tonight, and my guess is I'll have to spend most of the day tomorrow schmoozing at the boat club." He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to ditch me again, right?"

Lynne flinched. "Not in my contract," she said, forcing a deliberately cool tone to match his. "I'm guessing Davis wants you to have a date for the whole weekend, or he wouldn't have told you to bring me along in the first place."

"Right. Well, we have a few hours until the thing tonight. You're on your own until then, I guess."

Before she could think of anything else to say, Carter turned and headed back downstairs, leaving Lynne alone in the bright room. Unexpected tears pricked her eyes, but she swiped her hand across her face, refusing to cry. _It's not like there could be anything real between us,_ she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. _It's better this way._ But she couldn't fight the feeling that she was making a big mistake.

***

There was no sign of Carter once Lynne pulled herself together and changed into her bathing suit, and she tried not to be disappointed as she stepped out onto the wide deck in front of the house. Tall wooden stairs led down to the beach, and a pair of beach chairs sat under the stairs as if they were waiting for her. Grabbing one, Lynne began the awkward descent down to the shore. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the salty air, and then her feet hit the sand and some of the tension that had taken up residence in her shoulders melted away.

Dragging the chair right up to the water's edge, Lynne sank into it gratefully, combing the sand with her toes. The sun was still high in the sky, even though she knew it was after noon, and Lynne closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth. Water lapped around her feet, and she exhaled slowly, feeling herself unwinding a little bit more. _This is the life,_ she thought, stretching her legs out in front of her. Even the tension with Carter and the fact that she was starting to feel things for him that she knew she shouldn't couldn't dampen the effect of the sun, surf, and sand surrounding her, and Lynne dozed for a bit, oddly content.

A dog barked down the beach, rousing Lynne from her nap, and she shaded her eyes with her hand to see where the sound had come from. A couple was walking toward her, hand in hand, with a boisterous black lab bounding ahead of them. Lynne laughed, watching the dog dart in and out of the surf, but her heart clenched when she spotted the woman's vibrant red hair.

_Oh my God, did Carly really come out here to stalk Carter?_ Even as the thought flicked through her mind, Lynne realized the redhead couldn't be Carly. The woman was too tall, too willowy, and besides, Carly didn't have a boyfriend or a dog, so far as Lynne knew. She exhaled in relief, but just then the couple came close enough that she could see the woman's face.

_Not Carly,_ she realized with a twinge of panic. _Moyra._
CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Carter had been to the Hamptons before, but he hadn't wanted to tell Lynne that. He and Moyra had rented a beach house that was alarmingly similar to the one Davis had booked the summer after they were married, and he remembered flashy parties, drinking all day, and some of the most spectacular sex he'd ever had. That had been the pinnacle of their relationship, he realized as he walked down the beach, his hands shoved in his pockets and his sunglasses obscuring his face. _I should have known it was too good to be true._

He'd always assumed that his marriage had fallen apart because he and Moyra burned each other out; they were both too passionate, too quick to fight, to spend large stretches of time together, and they'd never really taken the time to get to know each other beyond the public faces they both wore. It had never entered his mind that she might have been cheating on him, even though the tabloids had asked the question frequently. Now that he knew she was engaged, however, he'd started to wonder. _How would I even know?_ Carter thought darkly, ignoring the waves as he walked. _It's not like we ever really talked, even during the good days._ Carter shook his head, surprised at his next thought. _I've shown Lynne more of who I really am in a week than I ever felt like I could show Moyra in a year._

Lynne. God, he was tired of making an idiot of himself over her, but as much as he knew she wasn't interested, he couldn't quite shake her out of his thoughts. The idea of spending a weekend sleeping under the same roof as her was maddening, but he also felt a flicker of excitement: despite everything she'd said, he wasn't ready to give up, and the part of him that loved a challenge began making plans to sweep her off her feet, once and for all. _I can show her just how real we could be,_ he thought, turning around on the beach in excitement and heading back for the rental house. _Starting now._

When he got close enough to see the house, he noticed a small form sitting in a beach chair by the steps, and his pulse quickened. _No time like the present,_ he thought as he bee-lined for Lynne. _What woman doesn't want to be wooed at the beach?_

As he got closer, however, he realized that Lynne wasn't alone: there was another woman sitting next to her in a chair. His steps slowed when he recognized his ex-wife, and all his plans went straight out of his head. Forcing a smile, he sauntered up to the women, trying not to give into the gnawing sense of betrayal that he felt toward Lynne when he saw her sitting there chatting with Moyra.

"Well, aren't I lucky! Two lovely ladies on the beach today." He bent down and brushed his lips across Lynne's cheek before placing a proprietary hand on her shoulder.

Moyra's jaw clenched, and he repressed a sick surge of satisfaction, but she hid her jealousy well. "I was just getting to know your girl, Carter," she said, unfolding herself from the chair and brushing the sand off her hips. "Sounds like the two of you met in quite an interesting way."

Carter darted a glance at Lynne, and she gave him a fake smile. "I was telling her how we literally ran into each other at the hotel, sweetie. Your baggage cart left a dent in mine, I think."

Carter found himself nodding along. "It could have been disastrous," he intoned seriously, reaching for one of Lynne's hands and wrapping his fingers through hers. "Lucky for me you're so forgiving." _God, I hope she can forgive me for this little performance!_

Moyra pursed her lips. "He's always been a bit of an oaf, Lynne. Make sure you watch out or he'll actually do some damage."

Lynne stood up and slid her arm around Carter's waist. He could feel her fist clench behind his back, but he could also feel every inch of her through the tankini she was wearing, and he pulled her closer to him instinctively. "Oh, I'm not worried about that," Lynne said sweetly. "But thanks for the advice."

Moyra nodded. "I'm sure we'll see you both tonight. Everyone will be there." She paused as if she wanted to say something else, but then she gave a little wave and turned down the beach.

Lynne looked up at him, but she didn't step out of his embrace. "I hoped you wouldn't come back until she was gone. When she came up the beach—"

"It doesn't matter," Carter said, his nerves ragged. Seeing Moyra had pushed his earlier plans to woo Lynne slowly, to convince her he was worth it, right out of his mind, and he acted impulsively. Tightening his grip on Lynne, he pulled her more firmly against him, lifting a hand to cup the back of her head.

She bit her lip, but before she could argue, Carter pressed his mouth to hers.

The kiss was hot and deep, and his body took over before his mind had a chance to wonder if it was a good idea. Pulling Lynne against his chest, he exhaled raggedly against her mouth as he felt her lips part beneath his. Eagerly, he nipped her lower lip, sliding his hands down her back, his fingertips skimming the tops of her hips. He itched to cup her, to lift her up against him and let her feel the arousal he couldn't control anymore, but Lynne was already on her tip toes, practically climbing him with desperate need that matched his own. Carter tightened his grip and ground his hips against her, thrilled when she gasped against his mouth.

He wanted to pick her up, to lay her down, to make love to her right there on the beach in the middle of the afternoon, but finally, his brain took over again. _This isn't the way to win her,_ a little voice hissed in the back of his mind. _She's just going to think you're reacting to seeing Moyra._

Lynne felt the change in him, and instantly, the fire he'd felt in her was subdued. She pulled her mouth away from his and looked down, but she didn't step out of his embrace. "I," she began, and then she cleared her throat. "I really don't think—"

He held up a hand and traced her lips with one finger. "There's nothing to think about."

She looked up at him, and he resisted the impulse to drown himself in her lavender eyes. "No?"

"I want you," he said honestly. "God, I want you so much."

Instead of kissing him or smiling, she pulled away gently. "But for how long?"

"What do you mean?"

Lynne shook her head. "I don't want to be just another fling, Carter. I can't."

He stared at her, hurt. "Who's talking about a fling?"

She gave a forced laugh and turned away. "I've read the magazines, and I'm not stupid. The longest you've ever been with anyone was Moyra," she glanced back at him questioningly, "and I'm not entirely sure that kiss wasn't more about her than it was about me."

"This has nothing to do with her," he protested. "You're the one I want."

"Yes, but for how long?" She repeated sadly. "Carter, I'm not another flavor of the week."

He leaned back and studied her. "You really think that's how I am?"

She shrugged, her face blank. "All signs point to yes."

Her words stung, but instead of throwing up his hands and walking away, Carter persisted. "I can't tell you how long I'm going to want you," he said honestly. "But I can tell you that I've been thinking about you since we met. There's something here, Lynne, something real. Don't tell me you don't feel it."

To his surprise, her eyes welled up with tears. "Oh, I feel it alright. That's what worries me; what happens when whatever this is burns out for you? I'll still be feeling it long after you've moved on."

Her admission made his heart soar momentarily, but then the rest of her words sank in. "So that's it, huh? You're not even willing to give us a chance?"

Lynne took a step back, swiping at her eyes with her hand. "I don't think it would be a good idea for me."

Carter frowned. "Well, I want to see what we could have." Deliberately, he closed the distance, reaching a hand up to gently stroke her cheek. "When you're ready, I'll be waiting."

Lynne bit her lip, considering. "How can you be so sure it would work? Regal Towers isn't exactly Hollywood, and I'd have no idea how to act in your world."

"You're doing a good job of it already. And besides, my world isn't anything special. I'm just a guy, Lynne, and you're just a girl."

She smiled faintly. "I wouldn't say you're 'just' a guy. How many magazine covers have you been on?"

Carter shrugged. "Why does that even matter? Hollywood or Broadway, you're the one I want to be with."

To his surprise, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek, barely touching the corner of his mouth. "I'll think about it," she said softly, her breath warm on his skin.

Carter had to restrain himself from crushing her into his arms and claiming her mouth again, but he stuck his hands in his pockets and gave her a slow smile. "That's better than no."

She looked down as she stepped away, but Carter caught the faint blush that was creeping up her face, and he smiled wider. "I should go get ready for the thing tonight," she said, not meeting his eyes.

Carter leaned forward and laced his fingers through hers. Surprised, she looked up at him, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "We've still got a little time. Walk with me?"

She smiled up at him, and his heart melted. "Okay," she said slowly. "A walk sounds nice."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Lynne carefully put on a pair of gold dangly earrings and studied her face in the mirror. She'd decided to leave her windswept hair down without messing with it, and the light gold powder she'd dusted over her eyelids made her feel like a mermaid, all messy hair and sparkly eyes. Her dark hair still smelled like the ocean, and Lynne pulled a strand in front of her face and inhaled deeply, remembering the afternoon. She smoothed her hands over the white linen dress she'd borrowed from Mrs. Abbot with a smile.

Everything about the afternoon had been perfect. It sounded cliché, but there was something totally romantic about strolling along a beach hand in hand with a guy who made her stomach turn somersaults. _And he kissed me_ , she thought giddily, remembering the intensity of Carter's kiss and the answering heat that had threatened to consume her body. It might have been a big mistake, but Lynne was seriously considering Carter's suggestion that they should be together, and she was actually looking forward to the evening as if it were a real date.

"Knock, knock," Carter called from the hallway, tapping on the bathroom door. "All set?"

Lynne glanced at the mirror one last time, and then she opened the door.

Carter stood there, leaning casually against the wall opposite the bathroom, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, hands tucked into his khakis. His eyes brightened when he saw Lynne, sweeping up and down her body before coming back to rest on her face. He grinned and held out his arm to her.

"Shall we, my lady?"

She stifled a giggle and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "You look nice like that," she said. "Relaxed."

"I am relaxed. In fact, I feel better than I have in years." He let go of her arm on the stairs. "You look amazing. Like some kind of beach goddess."

Lynne flushed, her fingers reaching for her bracelet but only meeting skin: she'd forgotten that she'd taken it off so it wouldn't clash with the gold jewelry, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of panic. _What if something triggers me tonight?_ After a moment, she realized Carter was looking at her expectantly, and she remembered that he'd just complimented her.

"Thank you," she said, hesitating for a moment. "Could I ask you a favor tonight?"

"Anything."

She bit her lip, debating. Finally, she said, "It would really help me if you didn't drink anything tonight."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you worried I've got a problem or something? I promise, that time at the club was an isolated instance."

Lynne flushed at his incredulous tone. "Never mind, it's nothing," she said backpedaling. _I never should have said anything._

Carter studied her face. "Not nothing, or else you wouldn't have asked." He paused. "Is there a reason?"

"Can we drop it? I'm sorry I said anything. Really, it's fine." Lynne stepped around him and headed for the front door, but Carter reached out and caught her hand before she could open it.

He gave her a gentle tug, pulling her around to face him. Green eyes pierced her soul, and Lynne blinked, suddenly feeling exposed. "I won't drink tonight," he said quietly, "and you don't have to tell me why if you don't want to."

Lynne took a deep breath. "Thank you," she finally said, steeling herself to be honest. "I'm in AA."

He didn't flinch, and his expression didn't shift to pity or loathing, two looks Lynne had gotten from her various family members shortly after she started the steps. In fact, his expression didn't change at all as he lifted her hand to his face and pressed his lips against her palm. Lynne sucked in her breath at the unexpected intimacy, and Carter smiled.

"Thank you for telling me," he said, his tone solemn. "Is there anything else you need before we head out?"

Relief washed over Lynne. _He doesn't think I'm some freak who can't control myself,_ she thought. _No one I've ever told has reacted this normally._ She shook her head. "I'm ready if you are."

He gave her his movie star wink. "I was born ready!"

***

The evening was perfect. Carter's charm seemed effortless, even as he schmoozed the night away, and Lynne enjoyed talking with the theatre crowd more than she'd expected. Carter kept her glass full of seltzer water and cranberry juice, and no one offered her a drink all night. Even the fact that Moyra and Hendricks were there couldn't dampen Lynne's mood, and as she and Carter headed out close to midnight, she felt cheerfully wound up.

"Let's walk back," she said, tugging his hand and leading him down to the beach.

Carter chuckled. "Might as well. The car will still be there in the morning." He glanced down at her. "Maybe we could go for a drive down the coast tomorrow."

"That sounds perfect." Lynne bent down and unstrapped her gold sandals. Swinging the shoes casually in one hand, she let go of Carter's hand and lifted her skirt, keeping the hem out of the sand. "Everything sounds perfect right now."

Carter tipped his head back, studying the night sky. "Moon's going to be full tomorrow or the next day," he commented, pointing at the glowing orb hovering near the ocean.

"That must be why I'm feeling so crazy," Lynne said with a laugh, twirling an impulsive circle in the sand.

"Tell me how you're feeling," Carter said, his voice smooth and deep.

"Like I could float or fly. I feel like nothing has ever been as perfect as this moment." She paused. "I haven't felt this way in seven years."

"Since your divorce?"

She shook her head. "Since I got sober. This is the way I remember alcohol used to make me feel, on the good nights."

Carter stuck his hands in his pockets. "I think you're really brave."

Lynne stopped twirling and looked at him. "How do you mean?"

"It takes a lot of guts to know when you have a problem. I think the fact that you owned it, joined AA and stuck with it, I think that's brave."

Lynne paused, considering. "I've never thought about it that way. At the time, it felt like I had no choice." She hesitated, but then she walked over to Carter. "I'll tell you what was brave," she said, standing close enough that she could smell his earthy scent. She swept her eyes up to his face and found him watching her intently.

"What?" He asked, his voice a throaty whisper.

Lynne leaned forward, skimming her lips against his for a moment before she pulled away. "That."

Carter reached for her, and this time, she didn't hesitate. She melted into his embrace, feeling a delicious thrill at the sensation of his body pressed against hers. Linking her arms around his neck, she tipped her head back, and this time, when he kissed her, she forget to worry that he might get tired of her one day. As she kissed him back, hungrily, his hands began to slide down her body, his skilled fingers tracing her flesh through the thin linen dress. She shivered, thrilling at his touch, and Carter smiled against her mouth.

"Shall we take this back to the house?"

A wicked, wonderful thought flickered through Lynne's mind, and she stepped away with a grin. "I'd rather swim," she said, intoxicated by the freedom she felt now that she'd finally allowed herself to act on the pull she felt to Carter.

His eyes glinted in the starlight. "I didn't bring a suit," he said, his lips curving up slightly.

Feeling bold, Lynne walked down to the water's edge. She turned away from Carter, and before she could second-guess herself, she shimmied out of her dress. Looking back over her shoulder, she grinned. "Neither did I."

Turning back to the water, she started to wade into the surf. _This would be sexier if we went skinny dipping_ , she thought, but she kept her bra and panties on, her type-A personality convincing her that as long as she was wearing something, she wasn't in danger of totally losing control with Carter.

But a little voice deep in her mind knew it was already too late.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

_She's going to make me insane,_ Carter thought, tossing and turning alone in the massive bed while Lynne slept in the room above him. It wasn't hard to imagine her, stretched out on the bed in the dark, her hair pooling around her face. Carter groaned with longing.

The evening had been better than he'd hoped; for the first time in a long while, he hadn't minded the schmoozing. Lynne made it bearable, and he'd actually had a surprising amount of fun at the fundraiser. He'd barely noticed Moyra, and when he and Lynne had headed back to the beach house for the night, his heart had felt light. Then, when Lynne had stripped off her dress and waded into the water, he'd thought he'd died and gone to heaven.

He exhaled sharply, remembering the feeling of her slippery body pressed against his. The swim had been hot; hotter than he'd even imagined, but despite the intensity, when they got back to the house, Lynne had kissed him gently, whispered "Good night," and slipped up the stairs to her room in a very definitive way. Carter rolled over onto his side, trying to stop thinking about how much he wanted to be in bed with Lynne.

It wasn't just that she was effortlessly sexy, when she let herself relax. He respected her drive, and he meant what he'd said the previous night: he really respected the fact that she was self-aware enough to own her problems and take the steps toward recovery. Carter had known too many people who struggled with addiction since he hit Hollywood, but he could count on one hand the number of those people who had gotten help. _She's something special_ , he thought, remembering the way her face lit up in the moonlight.

Carter heard a step on the stairs, and he held his breath for a moment, waiting for Lynne to open the bedroom door. Another creak followed the first, and Carter's excitement turned to disappointment when he realized she was walking past his room and down the stairs. _I should get up and see what she's doing,_ he thought, but part of him wondered if maybe she needed a little bit of space. Still, he didn't want to give her time to second-guess things, and finally Carter decided to go see what she was up to. He swung his feet out of the bed, uncomfortably aware that he was still aroused, and as he slipped on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, he spent a few minutes trying to get his body under control.

When he could face Lynne without jumping her or looking like a lovesick fool, Carter headed down the stairs. To his surprise, however, the beach house was empty. _Did I imagine it? She's probably still asleep._ With a sigh, Carter gave up on sleep and headed to the kitchen to brew a pot of strong coffee.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and Carter sat down heavily at one of the barstools in the kitchen, staring out the window while he waited for his coffee to brew. _I haven't seen this side of the morning since my last film,_ he thought wistfully. He'd always been a bit of a night owl, but given enough coffee, he actually seemed to thrive on the crazy filming schedule most directors required. It had been six months since he'd been working, though, and in that time, he'd allowed himself to get lazy and sleep in later and later. _I wonder what the rehearsal schedule will look like for a show_ , he thought idly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. _That is, if I can manage to land something._

He was on his second cup when he spotted Lynne walking briskly up the path from the beach. Carter didn't try to hide the smile that crept onto his face when he spotted her, dark hair pulled back into a thick pony tail, an exhilarated smile on her face. He met her at the door and offered her a steaming mug.

She grinned at him in surprise. "I hope I didn't wake you. I haven't made time for running lately, and I didn't want to miss the chance for a good beach run."

"I didn't realize you ran."

She took a sip of coffee and followed him into the living room. "Yeah. Started about seven years ago; it was the first thing I tried to keep my mind off of everything that was going wrong back then." She tucked her feet up underneath her on the sofa, and Carter slid onto the cushion beside her, unable to resist the urge to be close to her.

"Do you like it, or is it just a good habit?"

"Love it." She grinned. "You'll probably think I'm crazy, but I actually run most nights at midnight with a group through Central Park."

Carter shook his head. "That sounds like my idea of hell."

"Then I guess I won't invite you to train with me." Lynne paused, taking another swallow of her coffee. "Do you do any sports or anything?"

He pretended to be offended. "You can't tell that I work out?"

Lynne bit her lip. "Not what I meant. I mean, obviously, you do something to look that good—" she trailed off, a faint red tinge creeping up her neck.

Carter leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. "Are you trying to give me a compliment?"

Her bright eyes locked on his, and she nodded slowly. "Does that surprise you?"

He closed the distance and kissed her gently. "You continue to surprise me. But yes, in answer to your question, I work with a personal trainer most days, although I've sort of let that slide since coming to New York."

"You're planning on being here awhile, though, right?"

He nodded, his brow slightly furrowed. "If I can land a role, yeah, I'm planning to make the move at least semi-permanent. Davis thinks I can spend a year or two on Broadway, and then waltz back to Hollywood with even more appeal, but now that I've been away from that whole scene, I'm starting to reconsider."

Lynne studied his face. "Reconsider movies, or acting in general?"

Carter paused. "Movies, I think. I've loved acting for as long as I can remember; I don't think I'm ready to give it up entirely just yet."

"You're lucky to have a job you love that you're so good at. I've never really thought about doing what I want."

He looked at Lynne intently. "What do you want?"

She fiddled with her coffee cup. "I'm not sure. There really hasn't been an opportunity to find out, you know? I got married right after grad school, and I didn't work at first."

"Why not?"

"John didn't want me to." Lynne's voice was soft, and she wouldn't meet Carter's gaze. "He wanted me home to cook him dinner, which I honestly liked doing, but he also didn't want me to have any kind of social life outside of him." She hesitated, glancing up at Carter. "That's when the drinking got bad. If I wasn't going to go out and do anything, at least it made me feel _something_ , you know?"

Carter nodded, clenching his fist. "Your ex sounds like a real cave man."

Lynne shrugged. "Not really. I think he just wanted some imaginary kind of marriage that doesn't exist anymore, if it ever did. I was too young to realize that wasn't what I wanted."

"Did you get the job at Regal after your divorce?"

Lynne nodded. "The bills had to get paid somehow, and I was happy to find work that paid pretty well. That first year on my own was really rough: I'd never had to take care of myself like that, and to top it off, I was trying to manage my addiction." She forced a laugh. "Luckily, I got a rent controlled apartment in Brooklyn before those went extinct, or I don't know what I would have done."

Carter reached out and took the coffee cup from her. He set it on the end table, and then he turned back to Lynne and clasped both her hands. "So what would you do if you could choose anything in the world?"

Lynne hesitated. "I studied history in school," she finally admitted. "But I don't know what you can do with that, other than teach."

"So teach. I bet you could get certified."

She shook her head. "I don't really want to teach," she said thoughtfully. "I wish I could work for the New York Historical Society or something. I think it would be awesome to be in charge of one of the landmarks in the city, giving tours and stuff like that."

Carter's eyes brightened. "That sounds like a great job. Why don't you apply for something like that?"

Lynne laughed. "I did look into it, years ago. It's not really a job: most of the work seemed to be volunteer, and volunteering isn't going to pay the rent."

Before Carter could think of a response, Lynne stood up and stretched.

"I need to shower and get the sand out of my hair. Are we still going for a drive today?"

Carter nodded, dropping their serious conversation. "I'll shower after you, if that's okay."

She smiled. "I'll make it quick." After a moment's hesitation, Lynne leaned down and kissed him gently. Carter felt his toes curl, and he forced himself to match her pace rather than grabbing her and flinging her down on the sofa like he wanted to do.

Too soon, Lynne pulled away, her cheeks slightly flushed. She headed for the stairs, glancing back at him once in a way that made him remember their moonlit swim all over again, and then she hurried out of sight, leaving Carter pulsing with anticipation as he struggled to get a grip on his thoughts. _What is she doing to me?_ His eyes followed her up the stairs as his heart started to beat harder.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The weekend was over too soon for Lynne, and when Carter dropped her off at her apartment on Sunday afternoon, she almost invited him up. They'd been dancing around each other in a strange mating tango all weekend, and although Lynne wanted to grab him by the collar and make love to him just about every minute she was with him, she was holding herself back. Even though she knew she was already way too invested, she kept telling herself that if she didn't sleep with Carter, her heart wouldn't be as badly shattered when their relationship eventually came to an end.

Still, she'd nearly lost control on their last night at the beach house, and she was wound up with unfulfilled desire by the time they got back to New York.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Carter said as he set her suitcase down on the sidewalk outside her brownstone.

_Tomorrow. Work._ Lynne groaned inwardly. It was going to be so hard to go back to acting casual around Carter, but she'd have to do it, at least when she was at Regal. "Tomorrow," she echoed faintly. Leaning over, she gave him a slow, sweet kiss that left her wanting more when she pulled away. "Tomorrow we're both back to our professional selves, right?"

Carter chuckled. "I won't jump you in the elevator at the hotel, if that's what you're worried about." He put his face against hers and whispered, "not that I won't want to every second."

Need pulsed in her stomach, but Lynne forced herself to step away. "It would be a lot easier if you got a different hotel," she offered honestly. "I'm worried about what my boss would say."

"Hopefully, if some of these auditions go well, I'll be looking for something more permanent than a hotel, anyway." Was she imagining it, or were Carter's eyes filled with meaning when he said the word "permanent"? Lynne shook her head. _Stop reading so much into this_ , she cautioned herself. She waved as she went inside, and a tiny part of her was thrilled that Carter was still leaning against the T-Bird, looking in her direction, even after the door swung shut behind her.

Lynne leaned against the banister in the entryway and exhaled slowly. The weekend had been the most perfect thing she'd ever experienced, but now that she was back in her real life, it was hard to hold onto the freedom she'd felt in the Hamptons. "I don't know why I let anything get started," she grumbled to herself as she headed for the top floor. "It's just going to fall apart now that we're back to reality." Although she knew she should listen to her voice of reason, Lynne couldn't shake the desperate wish that Carter could somehow be a part of her reality, not just her fantasies.

***

The next morning at work, Lynne felt sluggish and fuzzy. Carly must have sensed that she didn't want to talk, because the usually chatty girl left Lynne alone, escaping on an errand for a guest as soon as she had the chance. Lynne couldn't focus on anything, and when Carter called down from the Princess Suite to "speak with the shift manager", she simultaneously felt like a giddy schoolgirl and a fugitive.

Carter was waiting at the door to the suite when Lynne knocked, and as soon as he shut the door behind her, he pulled her into an embrace. Lynne melted against him, some of the tension of the morning leaving her body as soon as she felt Carter's strong arms around her.

"God, I've missed you and it hasn't even been a day," he murmured into her hair.

Lynne smiled. "I've missed you, too," she answered honestly. "But I really shouldn't see you here, especially not while I'm at work."

"I know," he said. "But I have a surprise. Are you free tonight?"

Lynne nodded hesitantly. "For a real date, or a fake date?"

Carter grinned. "Haven't you realized by now that every time I'm with you, it's real?"

Her throat constricted and she nearly melted. After a moment, she found her voice. "Do I need to dress up again?"

He shook his head. "No, this will be a lot more casual." He glanced out the window, and Lynne followed his gaze, startled to see Davis standing on the balcony, talking on his phone with his back to them. Instinctively, Lynne stepped away from Carter, her palms suddenly slick. Despite her nerves, Carter reached for her hand. "I'll meet you at the Lexington Avenue station tonight at seven."

"The one on 59th?"

Carter nodded. "Okay?"

Lynne wanted to ask him what he was planning, but before she could speak, Davis came back inside, glaring at his phone. "You've got another audition in fifteen minutes," he said apologetically. "I tried to get them to put it off to tomorrow to give you a chance to prepare, but they were insistent. We better move." Davis blinked at her for a moment, as if he was surprised that she there. "What did you need, sweetheart?"

"I was asking her who was on the cleaning crew this weekend. This place is cleaner than I imagined, and I wanted to know who to tip."

Davis shrugged. "Your money, not mine." He paused, and Lynne realized he was staring at her. "That should be all, sweetheart. We'll let you know the next time we'll need you for a date, okay?"

She glanced at Carter, and he gave her a small, secret smile. She nodded at Davis, trying to keep her demeanor professional. "You know where to reach me."

Davis just nodded, practically shoving her out the door to the suite. She stood there for a moment before she got her bearings and headed back to the elevator, struggling to ignore the butterflies who were rioting in her stomach.

Even though Carly hadn't been around when Lynne took the call from Carter, the girl pounced on her as soon as she got to the lobby. "Well?" She asked, sotto voice.

"Hmm?"

"Lynne!" Carly whined. "You went up to the Princess Suite! What did he want? Was he eating? God, I bet he has chocolate cake for breakfast."

Lynne stared at her. "Where did that idea even come from?"

Carly tossed her flaming hair. "That's what I'd do if I were rich and famous," she said. "But seriously, what did he want?"

"Um, he wanted to thank the cleaning crew for the extra work this weekend," Lynne said, using the same excuse Carter had.

Carly's face fell. "That's...boring."

"What were you expecting, Carly?"

The girl paused. "I don't know. If this were a movie," she said dreamily, "I bet he'd fall in love with one of us."

Lynne's skin tingled at the memory of Carter's embrace. "But it's not a movie," she said firmly, not sure if she was trying to convince Carly or herself.

Carly pouted. "A girl can dream, can't she?"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The audition was a disaster. Carter didn't know why Davis had even bothered making him go; it was a revival of _The Glass Menagerie_ , for God's sake, and the only part that was even remotely close to Carter's age was the crazy mother. Still, Carter went and read for the son, trying to keep a straight face as he played opposite a woman who was barely out of college. _If nothing else, maybe I can impress the director with my professionalism,_ Carter thought, determined to give it an effort even though he knew there was no earthly way anyone would consider him for that iconic role.

It was pretty clear that Davis was scrounging the bottom of the barrel with his audition offerings; despite Carter's instructions, he'd tripped over his feet at an audition for a new musical his first week in New York, and he'd read for roles in comedies, tragedies, and everything in between. _The only thing I haven't tried for is Shakespeare,_ Carter thought wryly as he headed to the subway station to meet Lynne. _Although I doubt anyone's keen to cast me as Hamlet again._ Early in his career, he'd played the brooding star in a made-for-T.V. adaptation of the long play, and all he remembered about that role was how hard it had been to memorize his lines. He just couldn't wrap his mouth around the wordy dialogue. Carter shook his head. _Probably a good thing there haven't been any Shakespearean auditions yet,_ he thought sullenly.

Pulling his thoughts away from the auditions, Carter headed down to the subway. This would be his first time seeing Lynne privately since the weekend, and he was a little worried that all her old walls would be back in place now that they were back in the city. _I just have to take it nice and easy with her_ , he reminded himself. _I need to prove that I'm not going anywhere._

He glanced at the clock over the platform and frowned. Lynne was ten minutes late, and she'd struck him as the kind of person who was always on time. _Maybe she changed her mind,_ he thought, his throat tightening. "Stop mopping," he muttered to himself as he scanned the platform again. "She can't just walk away from what we have," he said, desperate to convince himself.

He'd started to worry that something had happened to her by the time he spotted Lynne on the stairs. Relief washed over him, and he hurried over to her with a grin. "I almost thought you weren't coming," he said, wondering if she'd push him away if he tried to hug her.

"Things were hectic wrapping up the shift. Sorry I'm late." She stood on her toes and brushed her lips against his cheek, and Carter felt his earlier tension melt away as he wrapped his arms around her. He smiled down into her face, surprised at how quickly he relaxed with her.

She looked up at him shyly, biting her lip, and Carter couldn't help himself. He lowered his face to hers, giving her a slow kiss. When he broke away, they were both smiling, and Lynne exhaled loudly.

"I almost didn't come," she finally admitted. "I wasn't sure you'd still want this."

Carter caressed the side of her face with one hand, looking deep into her eyes. "Lynne, I will want you whether we're in Manhattan or the Hamptons, or some cheap little Midwestern town. Which, after the audition today, might be my best option."

Lynne's eyebrows pulled together. "It didn't go well?"

"Not the right part for me; I'm way too old for the role I read for." He stepped back and reached for her hand. Lynne wrapped her fingers around his with a smile.

"The right part will come along," she said, sounding more confident than he felt. "Now, what did you want to do, now that you've escaped from Davis?"

Carter laughed, the awful audition forgotten. "I told you, it's a surprise."

"And this surprise requires the subway? I thought movie stars always used private cars." She teased, her eyes bright.

He gave her a tug and led her to the edge of the platform and into a half-full subway car. "Sometimes, you have to ride with the little people." He said it with a pompous accent, hoping that Lynne would laugh, that she wouldn't think he was being serious.

She grinned, and he felt a million pounds lighter. "Is that what you're doing with me? Slumming?" Her tone was flippant as they settled into a pair of seats under the window, but the words cut.

"Don't," he said softly, leaning over her. "Don't talk about yourself that way." He locked eyes with her for a moment, and his heart accelerated. _Does she have any idea how beautiful she is?_

She cleared her throat, and he realized he'd been staring at her. He brushed his lips against her cheek and sat back, pointing to the dark walls of the subway as they raced past. "Have you ever been on this train?"

If she thought it was an odd question, she didn't let on. "Probably. The station is the same one I use to get to and from work, but I take the R train."

Carter relaxed slightly. "Good. It suddenly occurred to me to be worried that you'd figure out where we're going."

Lynne studied the route map on the wall of the subway car. "The Brooklyn Bridge?"

He shook his head. "You'll just have to wait."

She smiled at him before shaking her head. "I don't know how you had time to come up with a surprise, between the weekend and your auditions."

"It's easy to find the time for you. Besides," he confessed, "I actually got this idea from an audition."

Lynne raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to make me sing and dance, are you?"

He chuckled, idly caressing her hand. "Sounds like hell for both of us."

"Have you auditioned for any roles that you actually want?"

Carter paused, considering. "Not really. I want to be working again, and I want that work to continue to be acting, but if I'm being honest, none of the shows I've read for so far are really me."

Lynne squeezed his hand gently. "What will do you if you don't find a show you want?"

"You mean, if I'm not good enough?"

She shook her head. "That's not what I said. I think you're great, and if you really want to be a Broadway star, you will. You've never really had a bad role."

Carter stared at her, a smile creeping onto his face. "I thought you weren't a big movie person."

She flushed. "I may have stretched the truth there."

He leaned forward, grinning. "So how many of my films have you seen?"

She bit her lip, and then she admitted, "All of them...and I've seen most of them twice."

Carter threw his head back and laughed. "So that cool, unimpressed woman I met that first day was just an act?"

"I didn't want to feed your ego," she tried to defend herself, but she was starting to smile. "I thought movie stars are all egomaniacs, and I figured you didn't need any more stroking"

Carter raised an eyebrow and brought his mouth alongside her ear. "I would never say no if you wanted to stroke me," he murmured, feeling a little thrill when her breath caught at his suggestion. Slowly, he pulled back and studied her face, wondering what was going on in her mind.

Their eyes locked and held, and Carter felt desire course through him the longer he stared into Lynne's lavender eyes. _Does she realize how much I want her?_ He wondered again. Tipping his face toward her, he leaned forward slightly, letting his breath intermingle with hers. His heart started to race, wondering if she'd let him kiss her again, but before his lips could find hers, the train jerked and he tipped forward, smacking his forehead against Lynne's face. She pulled back in surprise, rubbing her head, but to Carter's delight, she chuckled.

"Is that really how you seduce women, Mr. Edwards?"

He grinned. "I have to keep you on your toes, don't I?"

"A week ago, you couldn't even remember my name. I'd say you're keeping me on my toes, all right."

He held up his hands defensively. "I hadn't really met you, remember. You'd just checked me in and given me the room key. Besides," he added impulsively, "I'm never at my best after a flight."

"You don't like flying?" She sounded surprised, and he almost wished he hadn't told her. _I don't want to keep anything from her,_ he realized, _even this._ He swallowed his self-consciousness.

"Never have."

"I've always liked it, but I guess that's because I haven't had to fly as much as you."

He really didn't want to talk about flying, but he was curious. "How often do you fly?"

"Only a couple of times, really. I flew to Arizona when my grandmother passed away years ago, and John and I flew down to Cancun for our honeymoon."

"Kind of an odd place for a honeymoon; weren't there a lot of college kids partying?"

She shrugged. "It was a vacation. And the water was beautiful."

"Speaking of beautiful," Carter said, tapping the window behind them, "look."

The train had slowed down, and it was as if they'd stepped back in time. Mosaic tiles covered the walls, and high above the vaulted ceiling, panes of clear glass arched over the subway station in a delicate skylight completely at odds with the sleek, utilitarian train car.

Lynne gasped. "What is this place?"

Carter grinned, feeling totally satisfied with her response. "It's a ghost station. I heard about it at one of my auditions this week, and I thought you'd want to see it."

She stared out the window, rapt, as the train began to turn around, giving the few people who had stayed on the car a three hundred and sixty degree tour of the cavernous space.

"This is beautiful," she said, her eyes skimming the walls to the skylight. "I didn't even know this was here."

Carter silently congratulated himself for surprising her. "I thought a history nerd like you would know all of the city's secret spots."

She shook her head, reading the tile above the stairs that led down to the old platform. "City Hall. I didn't even know there used to be a City Hall station."

"That was what the guy at the audition said. I overheard him chatting with a couple of the girls who were there, and when he described it, I knew I had to show you."

Lynne gave him a brilliant smile. "Thank you. This is so, so cool."

His grin stretched wider. "That's not all," he told her, pulling her to her feet with a mounting sense of anticipation as the train left the beautiful station behind. "This is our stop."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lynne relished the feeling of Carter's strong hand wrapped around her fingers, and she followed him from the train eagerly. _I can't believe that he still seems like he's interested in me,_ she thought in wonder as she stood beside him in the mostly deserted subway station one stop up from the fairy tale that was the abandoned City Hall station. _I don't think I could have imagined something like this in my wildest dreams._ She was happier than she cared to admit to be holding his hand, but when she headed for the stairs that led up from the subway, he tugged her back.

Confused, Lynne looked up at him. "I thought you said this was our stop?"

He nodded, his crooked smile stretching wide. "It is. But we aren't going up."

Lynne gestured around the platform. "There's nothing down here but rats."

"I promised you a surprise, didn't I?" Carter glanced around, draping his arm across her shoulders and leaning closer. "Look casual. We don't want anyone to know what we're up to."

" _I_ don't even know what we're up to."

The last of the travelers around them climbed the stairs, and Carter grinned at her. "Ready?"

"For what?" Lynne looked around at the deserted station and shivered. "It's kind of creepy down here."

"I'll protect you." He pulled out his phone and pressed the power button before grabbing Lynne's hand again with his other hand. "This way!"

He pulled her toward the subway tunnel, and Lynne shook her head. "Are you crazy? The next train will be along in a few minutes."

Carter gave her a rakish wink. "Then we just have to hurry." When he saw that she wasn't appeased, he stepped closer to her. "I promise it's safe, and I promise it'll be worth it. Trust me, okay?"

Lynne paused. _Do I trust him?_ She was surprised at how quickly the "yes" bubbled up from her heart. _But I barely know him,_ she tried to argue with herself. Still, she couldn't' deny it: she realized that she was willing to go just about anywhere with Carter, and that thought set her heart racing. _It can't be love this fast, can it?_ Trying to sort through her tangled emotions, she let him tug her down the subway tunnel, walking on the narrow maintenance platform that hugged the wall once they were away from the station. Even with the glow from Carter's phone, the tunnel was dark and creepy, like something out of a horror movie, and Lynne walked a little faster, hanging onto Carter's hand the whole time.

Yellow emergency lights pierced the darkness as they walked, but they didn't make Lynne feel any better. "We could get in a lot of trouble for this," she said, hating the way her voice sounded shaky in the cavernous space.

"Relax," Carter told her. "We're good. And besides, we're almost there."

Before Lynne had a chance to ask where "there" was, they rounded a bend and suddenly, the tunnel was brighter than before. An idea occurred to her, and she smiled. "Are we going back to that station?" She asked, growing excited.

Carter just chuckled. "Sort of, but that's not our stop."

Totally confused, Lynne let him pull her along. Even though she was dying to stop at the City Hall station and study the beautiful architecture, she hurried through it, matching Carter's fast pace. She barely had a chance to take in any more details than she'd already seen from the train, and then they were back in the tunnel, leaving the wide glass skylights behind.

Carter slowed his pace. "This is what we're down here for," he said, gesturing ahead into the darkness.

Lynne blinked, and then she noticed something on the wall under one of the emergency lights. Taking a closer look, she turned to Carter. "Graffiti?"

He grinned. "It's a street art gallery. Totally illegal, and sort of secret."

"How did you find out about it?"

"I told you; I heard at an audition. One of the younger actors knows one of the artists down here, and I listened while he bragged about how nobody knows this is here." He studied her face. "Do you like it?"

Lynne's eyes skimmed the wall of the tunnel beside her. "It's definitely different," she said slowly.

Carter's face fell. "I thought it would be right up your alley; little known New York and all that."

"No, it is," Lynne hurried to assure him. "It just isn't what I was expecting." _Nothing about you is what I was expecting._

Carter dropped her hand and headed deeper into the tunnel. "It's crazy to think about putting in this kind of effort on something that barely anybody will see."

"Maybe they just do it for the thrill," Lynne said, her eyes tracing the swirls of paint. "Get arrested if you get caught down here and all that."

Carter pointed to a particularly intricate design. "That's more than just thumbing a nose at authority," he said softly. "That's art."

"Not everyone needs an audience." The minute the words left her mouth, she realized he might think she was talking about him. "I don't mean—"

"No, you're right," Carter said, looking down at her. "Art can be art just for art's sake," he said slowly. "But that doesn't pay the bills."

"Is that all acting is to you? A way to pay the bills?"

Carter paused, and Lynne could tell he was seriously considering the question. "No," he said finally, "although lately that's what it felt like."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Lynne said. "I mean, it's a career, the same as any other."

"But it isn't just a career," he said slowly. "I'd like to think I have a little bit of talent, that I'm not just punching a clock. And besides," he added, his eyes connecting with hers, "don't we all end up doing things we're talented in?"

Lynne snorted. "I wouldn't say I have a talent for hotel management. That's not exactly an art form, you know."

He shook his head. "I'd disagree. There's an art to interacting with people, an art to making them like you," he took a step toward her, studying her face. "And I'd say that's something you're very good at."

"You make it sound like I'm trying to be fake or something," Lynne said, suddenly aware of how close he was standing to her. Her pulse sped up and she leaned toward him slightly, eager for his touch.

"No," Carter said, leaning closer. "You aren't fake." He lifted his hand and reached for a strand of her dark hair, pushing it gently behind her ear. "You aren't fake at all."

Her breath caught, and Lynne licked her lips nervously, mesmerized by Carter's intense expression. _I've definitely fallen,_ she thought as she brought her lips closer to his. _It's too late to keep my distance._

This time, when their lips met, Lynne didn't hold anything back. She kissed Carter with all the longing she had, tasting his mouth while he returned her kisses with an intensity that thrilled her. The last rational corner of her mind shut down when Carter slid his hands underneath her shirt, and Lynne forgot about the empty subway tunnel and the next train. Carter caressed her skin, sending shivers through Lynne's body, and she clung to him like she was drowning. She thought he murmured her name against her mouth, and, feeling bold, Lynne pulled away, trailing kisses down his collarbone while her fingers skimmed over Carter's torso. Before she could reach his belt, however, a loud voice echoed down the tunnel, and a bright light hit Lynne in the eyes, blinding her for a moment.

"Who's down here?"

Lynne tensed to run, but Carter grabbed her hand. "I've got this," he promised, his voice little more than a whisper. Then, louder, he said, "Good evening, officer!"

"What are you doing?" She hissed. "Shouldn't we try to hide or something?"

It was too dark to tell for sure, but Lynne could have sworn she saw him roll his eyes. _There's not really anywhere to hide,_ she realized, feeling stupid. Carter took a few steps down the tunnel, in the direction of the police officer who'd interrupted them.

"Hands where I can see them!" The man barked, reaching for something at his waist.

Lynne let out a frightened gasp and let go of Carter's hand. Lifting her palms in the air, she started to babble. "We're sorry, officer, but we must have gotten off at the wrong stop—"

Carter stepped in front of her, keeping his hands in his pocket. "How are you tonight, officer?"

The man glared at him. "Look, wise guy, I don't know what you think you're doing down here, but hands where I can see them."

Casually, Carter lifted his hands. "Is that better?"

"Much. Hurry up and get out of there before the next train comes through."

Carter headed toward him with Lynne following close behind. She bit her lower lip, trying to figure out if she'd ever heard if people just got a fine for walking in the subway, or if she was about to get arrested. _At least we hadn't managed to get our clothes off; than it would indecent exposure, too!_ A hysterical giggle threatened to spill out of her mouth, but Lynne clamped her teeth shut and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. As they reached the old City Hall station, Carter glanced over his shoulder and winked at her. _Relax_ , he mouthed before turning back to the officer.

A train rushed through the station, filling the tunnel with a gust of heat as it thundered by, and Lynne's heart started to pound when she realized how close they'd come to still being in the tunnel when the train came. Her knees shook just thinking about it, and she gulped a breath of air. _God, I haven't been thinking straight! We could have been killed._

Carter didn't seem phased, and Lynne noticed he was wearing the friendly half-smile she'd begun to recognize as his celebrity look, and she felt a flicker of trepidation. _Does he really think he can sweet talk his way out of this?_

The man reached for a walkie talkie at his belt. "Two trespassers in the City Hall tunnel. I'll meet you at the entrance."

Carter smiled at the officer. "Now, officer, I'm sure there's no need to make a fuss." He leaned forward conspiratorially and ran his hand through his hair. "We'd appreciate it if you would point us to the best route to get aboveground."

The officer snorted. "I'll do you one better, buddy. I'll escort you both all the way to the precinct."

Carter glanced over his shoulder at Lynne, a confused expression on his face. "Didn't Davis say he'd cleared this with the NYPD?"

Lynne had no idea what he was talking about, but she swallowed nervously and tried to play along. "I think so."

The movie star faced the officer again. "I'm so sorry for the mix-up, sir. I don't know if you've recognized me or not, but I'm Carter Edwards." He waited a beat, but the expression on the policeman's face didn't waver. Carter tried again. "We're doing a little scouting for a period film I'll be staring in. Old New York and all that." He paused, looking puzzled. "I'm sure my manager cleared it with your supervisors."

"I don't care who you are, or what you think you're doing down here, but you're under arrest."

Lynne shrank back into the shadows, but the man's eyes swiveled to her. "You, too, sweetheart."

Carter held his hands out in a placating gesture. "I assure you, that won't be necessary. If you don't mind, I'll just place a call through to my manager, and he can explain everything to you."

"You can make your one phone call when we're back to the station. Now, do I need to cuff you, or are you both ready to come with me?"

Lynne stepped forward, trying to ignore Carter's expression. "We'll come." She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "There's still time to straighten everything out, right Mr. Edwards?"

His eyes flickered for a moment when she used his last name, and Lynne hoped he realized she was just trying to add to his story. If he was really down there for some movie, it made more sense that she was an employee of some kind rather than...whatever she was. His girlfriend? _There hasn't really been time to talk about all that,_ she realized as she stared intently at Carter. _But I bet it'll be easier to talk our way out of this if we pretend we aren't involved_. He seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he smiled easily at her. "Right, Lynne. Did you get enough of a sense of it for the set design, though?"

_Set design? Good lord, I don't know anything about that._ "I think so," Lynne bluffed, looking deliberately around the vaulted ceiling of the abandoned station. "It'll be hard to recreate this, though," she added thoughtfully. "Maybe we should see about, um, filming on location."

He nodded like he was considering it. "As long as we get this mix up straightened out first."

The police officer looked annoyed. "Are you two finished?"

Carter nodded. "I think we have everything we need...officer?"

The man didn't give his name, just grunted and gestured toward a service door Lynne hadn't seen before. "Then let's move."

Her heart thumped erratically as they followed the policeman, but when Carter reached forward and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, she almost convinced herself that everything would be alright.
CHAPTER NINETEEN

Carter was more keyed up than he cared to admit, but he was doing his best to maintain his casual façade. He'd expected the cop to let them off the hook when he used the "scouting for a movie" line, and he was surprised that they were still being arrested. When the officer led them above ground to a waiting squad car, Carter felt Lynne tense beside him, and he wanted more than anything to reach over and grab her hand, to offer some kind of reassurance, but he didn't think it would help their case if he snuggled up with his so-called set designer in the back of the car. _At least she played along_ , he thought, remembering how puzzled he'd been when she called him "Mr. Edwards" down in the subway. For a minute, he'd thought he'd pissed her off, and he wouldn't blame her if that was the case: getting arrested wasn't the way he'd envisioned the evening would end.

Now that he thought of it, he hadn't really been sure how the evening would end, anyway. Sure, he'd wanted to bring her back to his room, or, better yet, to go back to her apartment with her, but until the kiss in the tunnel, he hadn't wanted to press his luck and scare her off. _Even if nothing had happened after, this was still the best date I've had since I can't remember when._ It had been a long time since he'd had a chance to spend real time with someone without the paparazzi trailing him, and for a moment, he was thankful that his career in Hollywood had dried up enough to send him to New York. Until he landed a show on Broadway, he was practically anonymous again, a sensation he hadn't had for twenty years. _Although I'm sure all the reporters I've been watching out for will crawl out of the woodwork the minute there's a mug shot,_ he thought sourly as the car pulled up to a police station.

Risking a glance at Lynne, Carter felt a knot of anxiety in his chest when he caught her frightened expression. This so wasn't what he'd planned when he'd decided to show her the abandoned subway stop. Shaking his head, he got out of the car, assuming the charming, unruffled demeanor he'd tried to use down in the tunnel. He could tell Lynne was trying to match his calm expression, but a muscle near her eye kept jumping, and Carter shook his head. _She's so real,_ he thought, fighting back the urge to stroke her cheek. _It's been a long time since I've met anyone like her._

The officer who'd picked them up ushered them into a small, smoky waiting room with blue plastic chairs. The door clicked ominously behind them, and Carter realized it had an automatic locking mechanism. He swallowed, turning a smile toward the officer. "Mind if I call my agent now so we can get everything straightened out?"

"Make it fast. I'll start processing your friend here first."

Lynne looked terrified as the man led her behind another door, and she shot a glance back at Carter just before the door swung shut behind her. His heart clenched, and he pulled out his cell phone as fast as he could and hit the speed dial for Davis.

His manager picked up on the first ring. "Where the hell are you? I'm sitting here at the restaurant waiting."

Carter exhaled. "I went out with Lynne. Look, Davis—"

"Carter," his manager hissed, "I've been trying to entertain Schultz and Jones for the past hour."

Carter paused. Schultz and Jones were a legendary director/producer team, and Davis had talked about trying to schedule a meeting with them. "I thought I was just having dinner with you to discuss our plans?" He said slowly.

"Plans changed; they were free, so of course I asked them to join us. But we're through the first round of drinks, and I can't stall much longer. You need to get down here. Now."

"Davis, I'm kind of tied up at the moment."

His manager snorted. "With that girl? Why are you wasting your time?"

Carter clenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"She's your escort, Carter. Not someone you sneak around with behind my back."

"She's not an escort," he said, surprised at how upset he felt. "She's...she's a break," he finally said, chickening out from trying to explain the complicated swirl of emotions he felt when he was with Lynne.

"Break's over. Time for you to get back to work."

"Davis, we got arrested."

There was silence on the line. Carter glanced up at the door where the cop had disappeared with Lynne and cleared his throat. "We were checking out that location I told you about for my new film," he said, raising his voice slightly.

He could practically hear Davis grinding his teeth. "Location?"

"The old subway station. You said you cleared it with the NYPD before we went down there."

Davis exhaled sharply. "You're asking me to call in that favor NOW? Over something that doesn't matter? Why can't you just pay bail?"

Carter dropped his voice. "Lynne doesn't need a record because of me. Fix this. Now."

"And what am I supposed to tell Schultz and Jones?"

Carter frowned. "Tell them I double booked myself, and ask if they'd like to come back to the penthouse later for drinks. And pick up the tab, too."

"What do I look like, an idiot? Of course I'll pick up the tab." He paused, and Carter held his breath. Finally, Davis said, "Which precinct are you at?"

Carter glanced up at the bare walls around him, looking for some kind of identification. "No idea. The one closest to City Hall, I guess."

"I'll make the call," Davis said gruffly before disconnecting. Carter glared at the phone for a minute, surprised that he'd had to argue with his manager, but then he put the phone back in his pocket and picked up a magazine. He flipped through the tattered pages, doing his best to look casual for the security camera he'd spotted in the corner, but his eyes didn't see anything. He wasn't sure how long it would take Davis to work his magic, but when he finally heard the sound of a phone ringing deeper inside the precinct, Lynne still hadn't reemerged.

A few minutes later, the officer came back into the waiting room alone. "You can go," he said gruffly, pushing the button to release the door behind Carter.

Carter paused. "Where's my set designer?"

The man glared at him. "Look, buddy, I don't know what kind of strings you pulled, but my supervisor only mentioned you. She stays."

"That's not fair; she was only down there because of me."

The officer raised his eyebrow. "You want to pay her bail? It's two thousand five hundred dollars."

Carter narrowed his eyes. "No, I don't want to pay her bail. I want her sent home, free and clear. You've heard from my manager; we were down there for a film I'm shooting."

"All I was told was that Mr. big man Carter Edwards was fine, but nobody said anything about your girl. So you can either pay her bail, or leave her here." He shrugged. "It's up to you."

Carter pulled out his wallet. "I assume you don't take credit card," he said, his tone icy.

The cop laughed. "Not hardly. Not even from you, Mr. Hollywood."

Carter glared at him. "Where's the nearest ATM?"

"There are two out on the street, but I doubt your bank will let you withdraw that much at once."

Carter smirked. "The perks of being a multi-million dollar client."

Without another word, he stalked out of the building and found the ATMs the officer had mentioned. He had to type in his pin three times before it worked; he was so mad his hands were shaking, but, just as he'd hoped, he was able to withdraw the full amount in one go. Pocketing the cash, he hurried back inside the precinct and found the officer waiting for him.

"Here," he said, thrusting the money at the man. "Now, where's Lynne?"

The officer grunted and went behind the other door again. For a few moments, nothing happened, and Carter started trying to figure out how much trouble he'd get in for going back there after her himself. Just when he was about to risk it, the door opened and Lynne came out. Her skin looked sallow, and her eyes were drawn. She didn't look at him, and Carter waited to say anything until they were back on the street in the humid night air.

"I'm sorry," he offered, pausing on the sidewalk and studying her face. "I had no idea that would happen."

She shrugged, but she still didn't look at him. "At least we're out of there now."

"Did they..." he trailed off, unsure. "Did they put you in a cell or anything?"

"No. They hadn't gotten to that part yet." She finally looked at him. "Davis was able to take care of everything?"

The trust in her face nearly cracked his heart in two. "Mostly," he said, deciding to be honest. "I paid your bail."

It took a minute for her to process what he'd said, but he saw the realization click in her eyes. "You mean I was still arrested? They won't delete the file or anything?"

Carter shook his head. "I feel terrible. I have no idea why they let me go, but the cop insisted that you'd already been booked, and that bail was the only way to get you out of there tonight."

She swallowed. "So I guess that means I've got a record?"

"I don't really know how all this works. I guess so."

Her face darkened. "But they didn't charge you, ultimately."

"Lynne—"

"Did you tell Davis we're together?" She demanded.

Carter wrinkled his forehead, confused. "Of course. I called and told him I'd taken you down there—"

She shook her head and took a step closer. "No," she said, "I meant did you tell him about—" she gestured to the space between them. "Us."

Carter hesitated. "I didn't think you wanted anyone to know," he finally said, cringing inwardly at the lie.

Lynne shook her head. "You're unbelievable." Tears welled up in her eyes, and Carter reached for her, but she took a step back.

"Lynne, I'm sorry. Let me fix this."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," she said, her voice sounding chirpy. "Just tell me how much I owe you."

"Nothing. This whole mess was my fault in the first place."

"What do I owe you?" Her tone was steely, and Carter realized she was ready to keep arguing all night.

He sighed. "Bail was twenty-five hundred. But you don't owe me anything," he added quickly when he saw the flicker of panic in her eyes at the sum. "Seriously. I'll call my lawyer in the morning, and we'll get everything worked out. You won't have a record to worry about." He wasn't sure if that was something a lawyer could do, but he tried to sound sure of himself. He hated the hard look that had come across her face when she realized that he'd walked out of the precinct with little more than the inconvenience, while she'd been fingerprinted and charged and God knows what else. He reached for her again, but she stepped away.

"I'm tired," she said abruptly. "I think I better head home."

"I can give you a ride. Davis should be sending a car."

Her jaw clenched. "No, thanks. I can manage."

Carter tried again, fighting the desperate fear that he was about to lose whatever progress he'd made in the Hamptons. "Lynne, don't walk away mad."

She gave him a forced smile. "Why would you think I'm mad, Mr. Edwards?"

He grimaced. "Don't do that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Edwards. Did you think we were becoming...friends, or something stupid like that?" Her tone was acidic, the words a punch to the gut.

"You're mad, and I get that, but please don't go away like this."

Lynne shook her head. "Since tonight wasn't an _official_ date, I don't think it should matter to you what I do." Turning on her heel, she began to walk away.

Carter reached for her, pulling her back around to face him. "Look, I've said I was sorry. What more do you want me to do?"

"You've done more than enough, considering I wouldn't have been down in the tunnels if it weren't for your stupid idea."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I thought you'd want to see it."

"It was illegal. And dangerous. If you'd been thinking at all, you would have left it when we rode through on the train, instead of dragging me into the tunnel to look at the stupid graffiti."

"I was trying to do something nice for you!"

"Don't bother!" She spat the words, her shoulders tense. "I'm just a business associate, _Mr. Edwards._ There's absolutely no reason for you to do anything for me."

The words were like a slap in the face, and Carter stared at Lynne for a moment, not knowing what to say. She took advantage of his silence and walked away. Just as he was making up his mind to go after her, a car with tinted windows pulled up at the curb, and Davis rolled down the back window.

"Get in. You've got work to do: Schultz and Jones were willing to come back to the suite, and they'll be there in half an hour. I hope you're ready to explain your disappearance without mentioning your arrest."

Carter looked at the car and then looked down the street, but Lynne had disappeared. His stomach felt like it was filled with lead, and he stood, frozen with indecision. _I can't lose her,_ he thought, his chest constricting at the idea. He glanced back at Davis, waiting for him. _I don't want to lose her,_ he told himself, _but what could I do tonight? Maybe she just needs some time to cool down._ Even though he wanted to go after her, to try and fix this thing once and for all, he didn't. With a sigh, Carter got into the car, ignoring the little voice in his mind that told him it was time to man up if Lynne meant anything to him at all. _I clearly don't mean anything to her,_ he thought, remembering her bitter words. Sinking back against his seat, he closed his eyes and did his best to ignore Davis's rambling lecture.
CHAPTER TWENTY

Mrs. Abbot was sitting out on the stoop of the brownstone talking animatedly on her cell phone when Lynne made it back to the neighborhood. Even though Lynne really didn't want to talk to anyone, she tried to smile at her neighbor as she went by. The woman motioned to Lynne to wait, and she quickly ended her phone conversation.

Smiling up at Lynne, she patted the stoop beside her. "Sit. It's a nice night for the neighborhood."

Lynne sighed. "I'd rather take a hot bath, thanks."

The woman frowned. "You're usually so bright, so friendly," she said, her lilting accent softening her words. "What's the problem tonight?"

Wearily, Lynne sat down on the step beside her neighbor. "Rough night," she said, burying her head in her hands.

Mrs. Abbot rubbed a gentle circle on her back. "My daughter's having a rough night, too."

Lynne lifted her face. "Was that who you were on the phone with?"

The woman nodded. "She calls when things are hard; I wish she'd call when she was happy, too."

"So California isn't going the way she wanted?"

Mrs. Abbot hesitated. "Yes and no," she finally said. "The job at the T.V. station is a good opportunity, considering she left home before she finished her journalism degree, but she's having more trouble with her heart."

Lynne felt her eyes tear up unexpectedly. "That's something I can totally understand."

Her neighbor studied her face. "Your new beaux isn't as charming as you thought?"

Lynne grimaced. "You could say that." She paused, wondering if she should just leave it alone, but then the words tumbled out. "He got me arrested tonight."

Mrs. Abbot's eyes went wide. "You need to stay away from him, sweetheart. That boy is bad news."

Unexpectedly, Lynne started to cry. "That's just the thing," she tried to explain, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I can't stay away from him even if I wanted to; he's—" She paused, checking herself. "He's somebody at work," she finally said, biting her lip and struggling to get her emotions in check.

Mrs. Abbot frowned. "Then maybe it's time for a new job. That's the same advice I gave my daughter tonight, and I'm saying it again to you."

Lynne shook her head sadly. "How am I going to get a new job now that I've got a record?"

Her neighbor was silent, confirming Lynne's worst fears. After a moment, Mrs. Abbot patted her knee. "I don't have the answer, darlin', but I will tell you this. Things have a way of working out, even when it seems dark and impossible."

Lynne shook her head. "Thanks," she offered, even though in her heart, she knew there was no way things could work out. As she headed inside, she realized it wasn't the arrest that was worrying her, even though it should have been: it was the fact that Carter hadn't been willing to stick his neck out for her. _When it really mattered,_ she thought sourly, turning the key and letting herself into her apartment, _he was just like I thought. A spoiled, selfish celebrity._

"Didn't the weekend mean anything?" She asked the empty air in her apartment, her fists clenched at her sides. Shaking her head, Lynne tried to convince herself once and for all that it was a good thing it was over: Carter Edwards would never have stayed with somebody like her for the long haul. _It's better that I know this now,_ she told herself. _At least I won't be as hurt as if we'd actually been together._

But Lynne couldn't fight the sense of mourning that threatened to swallow her whole, or the lingering thought that she could have actually had something real with Carter.

***

The next week passed in a blur. Lynne resisted the urge to call in sick, even though every morning it was a struggle to get out of her bed, and Carter must have realized she wouldn't want to talk, because there were no calls from the Princess Suite any time when Lynne was on shift. Carly was disappointed, and after a few days of silence, she stopped looking up eagerly whenever the elevator dinged, but Lynne remained hyper-aware of the comings and goings of each person who went through the lobby. After a week, she was a nervous wreck, even though she kept telling herself that she didn't really want to deal with Carter anyway.

When her boss crooked his finger and led her back to his office on Friday afternoon, Lynne felt an overwhelming sense of dread, even though she had no idea why she might be in trouble. Despite Carter, her work had been meticulous as always. _Carter. Can he possibly know about us?_ Lynne swallowed her nerves and sat down as Mr. Arken closed the door.

"How long have you been an employee here at Regal?" He said without preamble.

Lynne blanched. "A long time. Nearly seven years."

Mr. Arken nodded, studying her face. "And you have been shift manager for what, three months?"

Lynne nodded again, unsure of what to say.

"Have I ever been unclear, any time in the years you have been with us, about what your duties are?"

Lynne shook her head. "No." _Oh, God, somehow, he knows about what happened in the Hamptons._ She clenched her fingers, digging her nails into her palms to keep her hands from shaking.

"Then would you care to explain that to me?" Mr. Arken tossed a newspaper in front of Lynne, and she leaned forward.

Not a newspaper; a supermarket tabloid. And there, buried on page three, was a photo of her and Carter inches away from the kiss that never happened on the sightseeing tour. Lynne swallowed, her mind racing. _Maybe I can talk my way out of this,_ she thought. _Maybe he doesn't know everything._

"Mr. Edwards asked me to show him the sights," Lynne said, choosing her words carefully. "It was right after he became our guest here."

"Is that why you've been up and down to the Princess Suite constantly?"

Lynne's throat felt dry. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Arken tapped his computer. "I've been reviewing the security footage. You've gone up to the penthouse an awful lot since Mr. Edwards became our guest."

Lynne paused. "I was just doing my job. The flowers needed straightening, and there were a couple of times when Mr. Edwards's manager asked me to come up to discuss housekeeping."

Mr. Arken studied her and then he sighed. "I'm afraid that's not going to cut it, Lynne. You can clean out your locker today, and return your uniforms once they've been cleaned."

Lynne stared at him, flabbergasted. "You're firing me?"

Her boss nodded. "We have a very strict non-fraternization policy between staff and guests. You know that. It's in your contract. And this," he tapped the tabloid, "seems to indicate that you flagrantly broke that policy."

Lynne's jaw worked, but she couldn't come up with anything to say. _Even if I didn't kiss Carter that night,_ she realized as she stared down at the damning tabloid, _that doesn't change what happened this weekend._

Feeling all the fight go out of her, Lynne simply nodded to her boss. "May I—may I take this?" She gestured to the newspaper.

Mr. Arken raised his eyebrow. "I don't care." He paused. "You've been a good employee, Lynne, but I think it's time you make a career change."

Without another word, Lynne hurried out of his office, tears brimming in her eyes, her hands clutched around the newspaper. Mercifully, she didn't run into any staff members as she cleaned out her locker, but Lynne paused in the shabby lobby for a moment, her eyes sweeping over the reception desk and the elevator doors. _I was almost happy here,_ she thought as she walked into the street. _Well, happy enough._ But, a little voice whispered in her mind, she hadn't been happy at all. The only times she'd really been happy lately was when she was running or meditating...and when she was with Carter.

***

Without her work to distract her, Lynne lapsed into melancholy. She tried to keep herself busy during the days, job hunting without enthusiasm, but mostly, she binged on some of her favorite movies. She resisted the urge to watch any with Carter in them, and some days, she did a good job of convincing herself that she'd never met the movie star at all. But every night, before she fell asleep, she couldn't stop herself from wishing there were a way to go back in time to that weekend in the Hamptons, when she'd almost believed it was possible to be in love with Carter Edwards, before life intervened and showed her just how wrong she was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Carter stared idly out the window of the Princess Suite while Davis prattled on about nothing behind him. Finally, the manager clapped his hand on Carter's shoulder, and he turned around, forcing himself to focus.

"That didn't take long at all. I told you you'd have a show in no time."

Carter nodded slowly. "You were right," he admitted. "And I'm actually really excited about this." Despite the arrest, Carter must have made a pretty good impression on Shultz and Jones, because they'd called Davis the next day to discuss the terms of hiring him to headline in their newest show. It was a dark comedy by an unknown playwright, and the minute Carter read the script, he knew it was what he'd been waiting for.

Davis grinned. "Don't say I never gave you anything," he joked, glancing around the suite. "I'm sure you're relieved to be getting your own place. Hotel living is fun for a bit, but I'm over it."

Carter disagreed, but he didn't say anything. He'd kept hoping that Lynne would seek him out, but that hadn't happened, and the more time passed since their fight, the less Carter knew how to take the first step toward repairing their relationship. _I sort of hoped fate would step in, but once I move out, that's not going to happen,_ he realized sadly.

He'd called his lawyer the morning after the mess, just like he'd promised, and it didn't take long to get Lynne's record cleared. Carter had wanted to tell her, but his lawyer advised him that it was best to deliver the news through official channels, and finally Carter agreed, allowing the man to send a letter to Lynne's home. She hadn't sought him out after that, and Carter was afraid that she didn't care if he'd gotten her name cleared. As rehearsals started and he began apartment hunting, Carter slowly convinced himself that he'd pushed Lynne away for good, and he told himself to just let it go.

But he still felt a twinge of disappointment every time he walked through the hotel lobby without seeing her.

Davis was looking at him intently, and Carter realized he'd stopped listening again. Shaking himself, he faked an apologetic smile. "I think I need more coffee."

Davis shook his head. "You're certainly a space cadet, that's for sure. I asked if there's anything you wanted to do before we hand in the hotel key."

For a moment, the tantalizing fantasy of marching down to the lobby and sweeping Lynne off her feet with a kiss that would show her how much he'd been missing her flashed through Carter's mind, but then he shook his head. "Nope. All set."

***

Somehow, Carter was both happier than he'd been in a long time, and incredibly depressed, too. The hours he put in on the show felt like candy to him, and he loved relearning all the nuances of live theatre that he'd forgotten during his film career. But the minute he got back to his uptown apartment, a dark cloud settled over him. He tried to tell himself that he was just tired, but late at night, when he couldn't sleep, he sometimes acknowledged that he was still thinking about what he'd almost had with Lynne.

The week before the show was ready to open, Carter finally stopped lying to himself. After the tech run ended for the evening, Carter turned down his cast mates' offer of a late meal at the diner, and headed out into the city. Hailing a cab, Carter set his course for Lynne's Brooklyn neighborhood, trying to figure out what he was going to say to her.

"I've missed you," he muttered to himself in the back of the car, but then he shook his head. "Seriously? I can do better than that."

"Trying to make up to your girl, man?" The cabbie asked him, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Carter nodded. "I don't even know if she's still interested in me. We were just starting out when I screwed things up."

Outside the car, it started to rain. "What'd you do?"

Carter closed his eyes. "Got her arrested."

To his surprise, the cabbie laughed. "A regular Bonnie and Clyde couple, huh?"

Cater gave him a weak smile, leaning his arms across the seat in front of him. "That wasn't really the worst of it. I let her down, let her think that I thought she was somehow less than me." The truth of the words hit him as he said it, and Carter's stomach clenched painfully at the realization. "I wasn't man enough," he admitted slowly, still stunned that he hadn't seen it sooner.

The cabbie clucked his tongue. "Nobody ever is. Maybe it's time to forget her and move on."

Carter shook his head. "I can't. I've been trying, but after Lynne, everyone else seems...flat, somehow. She was the first real woman I've met in a long time."

The cabbie was silent, and Carter sat back against the peeling upholstery. _I failed the first test,_ he thought with sharp clarity, _but if she gives me a second chance, I won't fail again._

When he got to Lynne's brownstone, he stood uncertainly on the curb for a moment, ignoring the pelting rain as he looked up at the old building. _I don't even know which apartment is hers_ , he realized, feeling like an idiot. For a moment, he considered turning around and forgetting the whole thing, but then he tucked his chin and hurried across the street, taking shelter under the narrow awning above the door to Lynne's building. Carter glanced at the buzzers to his left, and sighed. _Of course they aren't labeled: that would be too easy!_

Taking a deep breath, Carter pressed the first button. He held it for a moment, but nobody answered. He tried again, but still nothing. Rain was dripping down the back of his neck, and Carter tried to press up against the building, but the awning was practically useless. He pressed the second button, and after a few moments, a tired voice said, "What do you need, darlin'?"

"Lynne?" He didn't think it was her, but on the old speaker, it was hard to be sure.

"She's my upstairs neighbor," the voice said. There was a pause, and then the woman said, "You that fool who broke her heart?"

Carter swallowed. "I hope not. Sorry for bothering you."

He took his finger off the button and stared at the one right above it. _Broke her heart?_ Tentatively, he pressed the button.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, the voice he'd been missing crackled trough the speaker. "Who is it?"

Carter's mouth felt dry. "Carter," he finally said, wondering how she'd react.

There was a pause. "I don't want to talk to you," Lynne finally said.

Carter ran his hand through his hair. "I figured, but you don't have to talk. I've got somethings I need to tell you, and you don't have to do anything. Just listen."

She didn't say anything, and Carter glanced up at the building. _God, she could call the cops on me for trespassing if she wanted. How ironically appropriate!_ He took a deep breath and held the button down. "I know I acted like a jerk, and I'm sorry. Taking you down in the tunnels wasn't the best idea I've ever had, but I've realized that the worst of it was not sticking up for you." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "It wasn't enough to pay your bail or anything; a real man wouldn't have let you get arrested in the first place, or he would have been right there beside you in handcuffs. I didn't think when I got myself off the hook, and I'm sorry. You asked me that night if I'd told Davis we were together, and I lied. I hadn't told him because being with you felt so right, and I was afraid that if I said it out loud to anybody, I'd lose you."

Carter's hair was soaked from the rain, but other than static, he didn't hear anything on the speaker. _Don't wuss out now,_ he admonished himself. "Every time I've dated anyone publicly, the relationship has been empty. It's all smoke and mirrors for the press, until one day your breakup makes the front cover of a gossip magazine. I didn't want that to be me and you." He paused. "I didn't realize by wanting to keep you my little secret that I was hurting you. You are worth so much more than that; you should be with a guy who isn't afraid to tell the world that you're his. If you'd give me another chance, I promise I'll never lie about us again."

He took his finger away from the speaker, totally spent. Carter glanced at the house and then back at the speaker, wondering if Lynne was going to say anything. The rain was coming down harder, and Carter wished he'd thought to bring a coat or an umbrella. He shivered and waited a few moments, but then he turned away from the building. _She's not going to forgive me_ , he realized with a sinking heart. _Time to stop acting like a lovesick fool._

The street was deserted, and Carter shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing toward the corner to find a cab. He was just about to start walking when he thought he heard a door swing open behind him. Hardly daring to hope, he turned around as Lynne stepped onto the porch of the Brownstone. Carter hurried toward her, but he paused on the step a few feet away.

Lynne studied his face. "You got me fired."

Carter's jaw dropped. "The arrest? But that's all cleared up."

She shook her head. "Not the arrest. Someone snapped a picture of us on that sightseeing tour, and it wound up in a tabloid. My boss saw it." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't know."

_That's it, then._ Carter hung his head. "I never meant for any of this to happen to you." Sadly, he turned away from her. "I guess I'm the last person you want to see right now."

Lynne hesitated a moment. "It's cold out here," she finally offered, rubbing her arms and trying to avoid the raindrops.

Carter nodded as he turned to face her again. "I don't mind," he said, and he realized he meant it. _Even if I catch pneumonia, it'll be worth it: she's still talking to me!_

Lynne reached a tentative hand toward Carter, and he took it, letting her pull him toward her under the skimpy awning. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and press her body against his, but he held himself back. _If she doesn't want this, I can't force it_.

She bit her lip, and then a shy smile stretched onto her face. "Come inside so we can talk, okay?"

His heart soared. For a moment, he stood there, speechless, but then he grinned and took a step closer, reaching out to cup her cheek with his hand. "Whatever you want." Slowly, he tipped his head down, and after a beat, she brought her lips up to meet his. The kiss was sweeter than he'd imagined it could be, and he wanted to lose himself in the warmth of her lips and the taste of her mouth. Lynne brought her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him tight, and Carter took hold of her waist, pulling her even closer as they melted into each other.

_I was right,_ he realized as he kissed Lynne, oblivious of the rain. _This is something real._
Dear Reader,

I've always been a bit obsessed with fairy tales, and I'm having so much fun coming up with new ways to imagine the magic of some of my favorite stories with the _Once Upon a Desire_ series. _Princess Suite_ was inspired by "The Princess and the Pea", a tale about the seemingly silly trials a girl must go through to prove that she's a real princess. The theme of proving your worth through tests is a common one in fairy tales, and princesses (and princes, too, sometimes) had to wash laundry, bake feasts, and sleep on peas to prove to the other people in their stories that they were the real deal.

If you enjoyed Carter and Lynne's story, I hope you'll consider leaving a review of _Princess Suite_ at your favorite eBook retailer. Your feedback is important to me, and your thoughts might help other readers who are thinking about starting this series. If you've got a chance, visit my website to learn more about the series, and my other books.

There are plenty of fairy tales that inspire me, and I've included a sneak peek of the other books in the series, _Midnight Run_ and _Cut Loose,_ on the following pages. I hope you enjoy!

Here's to happily ever after!

Best,

Jen <3

Discover other titles in the Once Upon a Desire series by Jen McConnel:

### MIDNIGHT RUN

### CUT LOOSE

### PRINCESS SUITE

Once Upon a Time never felt like this...  
"Cinderella" meets marathon training in this modern fairy tale!

Running, coffee, and New York City: Nora feels like she's got it all. But when this barista meets Kingston, a handsome Texan, she realizes the one thing she's been missing is love.

Kingston doesn't want to admit that he's looking for a fairy tale, and he sure didn't think he'd fall for two women. But what he doesn't know about his running buddy and the pretty barista might surprise him.

MIDNIGHT RUN is a contemporary romance inspired by Cinderella, and it's the first book in the Once Upon a Desire series.

### Ready for a sneak peek of another book in the

### _Once Upon a Desire_ series?

### MIDNIGHT RUN

### By Jen McConnel

### CHAPTER ONE

Sometimes, Nora felt like the only reason she bothered getting up in the morning was her daily run.

Cold mist swirled across the trail, making Central Park feel ghostly and foreign, and Nora's feet hit the ground with a rhythm as familiar as her heartbeat. She'd stopped running with music after her first 5k; the songs that had once pushed her to keep going when she didn't think she could take another step became superfluous as the runner's high took over. Now, the city provided her soundtrack, and her runs were almost meditative.

Somewhere across the park, a dog called out a greeting, but Nora couldn't see him. The dense fog still obscured her surroundings, making it seem as if she were running in a dream, and Nora wasn't sure how long the other runner had been following her until he pulled up alongside her.

She heard him before she saw him; the echo of footsteps that didn't quite match her own, and then, suddenly, a tall figure with jet black hair loomed up at her elbow.

She gave him a quick nod as he pulled alongside her, her brown ponytail bobbing with the motion, but the guy barely glanced in her direction. _Maybe he didn't notice me in the fog_ , Nora thought, fighting down the irritation that flared as the other jogger moved ahead without acknowledging her at all.

But the run had turned sour, and Nora was distracted as she finished her final loop around the park. By then, the fog had started to lift, and the air was sharp and smelled like snow. Drenched in cold sweat, Nora hurried through her cool-down and rushed to catch her train, glancing at the cloudy sky nervously. The sun had started to rise while she ran, but the buildings around her blocked it from view. It would be tight, but she should still have time to hit her apartment and shower before her shift. _And besides_ , she thought grimly, _it's not like anyone will notice if I'm a few minutes late._

***

She was wrong; they noticed. Books and Brew had been getting increasingly popular, and now that NYU was back in session, the coffee shop was slammed by the time Nora punched in, thirty minutes after her shift was supposed to start. Her manager, Todd, tugged on his moustache and glared at her pointedly as she took her place behind the register, and Laurel, one of the other baristas, rolled her eyes.

"Looks like the princess is late again," she announced to Caity, another girl behind the counter.

Caity snorted. "What's the matter, Nora? Did your morning run turn into a walk?"

Nora felt her cheeks heating up, but she tried to ignore the girls and their barbs. Self-consciously, she pushed her tortoiseshell glasses higher on her nose and tried to smile. She usually got along pretty well with everyone, but from the moment Laurel and Caity had been hired, it was almost like they had it out for her. Nora wasn't sure what she'd done to piss them off, but that didn't stop them from tormenting her.

Luckily, there wasn't enough down time for the girls to do more than snipe at her when she first came in, and Nora was soon up to her elbows in lattes and coffee grounds, juggling three orders at once all while trying not to slip on the old, cracked tile floor. The college kids liked Books and Brew because it had atmosphere; the mismatched walls gave off a funky vibe, and the broken ceramic tile that covered the floor, left over from a long dead business that had filled the space before the coffee shop existed, made everything feel a bit old-fashioned. Cleaning the cracked tiles, however, was hellish; coffee and spilled milk had a way of collecting along the grout lines, and the floor looked pretty disgusting at the end of each day. If Nora hadn't taken to scrubbing it on her hands on knees after the shop had closed every night, she was pretty sure the health inspector would have shut them down already.

When there was a break in the customers, Todd pulled her away from the counter. "Some kid tossed his cookies in the front corner," he said, jerking his thumb toward the offending spot. "Grab the mop and take care of it, would you?"

Nora bit her lip. "Shouldn't we let his parents clean it up?" _And isn't it, like, a biohazard?_

Todd rolled his eyes and ran his hands over his salt and pepper hair. "They'd left before I noticed. Chop, chop, Nora, get on it."

She cringed, but she nodded. With a tug, she tightened her ponytail before tackling the job, but the elastic band snapped and dropped to the floor. Her hair, which had still been wet from her shower when she headed to work, cascaded around her face in loose waves, and Nora reached for the spare elastic she always wore around her wrist. Her fingers only met skin, however, and Nora remembered with a sinking sensation that she'd been too late to grab a spare hair tie that morning.

Her eyes swung back to the counter, and for a moment, she debated asking one of the other girls if they could lend her one, but she dismissed that idea almost immediately. Grabbing the mop, a yellow "wet floor" sign, and a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves, Nora pushed her way through patrons to the pile of puke on the floor. Her stomach churned, and she glanced at the counter again, wondering if there was any way she could get out of it. Laurel caught her eye and smirked, and Nora sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. There was no way anyone else would clean up the mess, especially not since Todd had specifically told her to do it, so she might as well stop dawdling.

Pulling the chairs out of the way, Nora slopped water over the floor, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She wasn't sure which was worse; the vomit, or the stale mop water. _I must have forgotten to empty the bucket last night,_ she chastised herself. _And of course nobody noticed._

Reaching under the table, Nora slid the mop back to the wall, hoping she could reach most of the mess. There wasn't really room to move the table out of the way, not during business hours, and Nora didn't relish crawling into any leftover vomit when she was finally able to give the shop a good cleaning that evening. Bending over to check under the table, she pulled the mop back and heard a startled "Oomph" from behind her.

As she whirled around to apologize to whoever she'd just hit, her foot skidded on the wet floor, and Nora flailed, her arms wind-milling as she started to fall. She gritted her teeth, anticipating the sharp pain that waited for her tailbone when she hit the floor, but it never came. Large, warm hands wrapped around her upper arms, pulling her upright with a jerk. Trying to ignore the pain in her shoulders, Nora looked up and caught her breath.

Her rescuer had to be one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen. _No, scratch that,_ she thought as her eyes took in his sinewy, powerful frame. _The_ most gorgeous. He towered over Nora, and his short dark hair and chiseled jaw made him look like he'd walked out of the pages of a magazine ad.

Gray eyes met hers, and the tan skin around them crinkled as the guy smiled. "Careful, hon. That floor's pretty slick."

Nora's heart fell out of her chest. He had a perfect southern drawl, like something out of a trashy soap opera, and his inky hair and deep tan completed the picture. For a moment, she wondered what he'd look like in a pair of tight jeans slung up with one of those wide, beefy belt buckles. She stared at him stupidly before she shook herself and forced a smile.

"Thanks; I was just mopping, and then I hit something—" she swallowed. "Did I hit you?"

He shrugged. "No harm done."

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to make it up to you? I swear, we don't usually put our customers in danger or anything," she babbled, pushing her glasses high on her nose nervously. She was aware of how ridiculous she sounded, but somehow unable to stop the flow of words. "I mean, whatever you want, just to say I'm sorry."

His smile stretched wider. "Back home, I'd be the one buying you coffee. But I guess that's New York for you!"

Embarrassed, Nora tried to backpedal. "Where's home?" She asked, plopping the mop back in the pail and watching his expressive face.

"Texas," he drawled, his accent even thicker when he said the word. "What about you? Seems like just about everyone I've met in New York is from somewhere else."

Before she could answer, a tall, chic blond slipped up to Tex's side and slid her arm around his waist with a quick glance at Nora.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetie," she purred, her perfectly made-up lips pouting sweetly. "I got held up in that meeting."

Shifting his attention away from Nora, the gorgeous guy gave the blond the same heart-stopping smile he'd offered to Nora. "No worries, darlin'." He glanced back in Nora's direction, his eyes bright. "Thanks for the chat, hon."

Nora nodded, her throat thick. "Any time. Um, be careful; the floor's wet."

The Texan laughed like she'd made a joke, and Nora flushed, remembering how'd he'd caught her. "Of course," he offered solemnly. Before he turned away again, he gave her a quick wink, and Nora's cheeks grew even hotter.

She watched as they walked toward the counter, the blond's black heels making her legs look even longer in her charcoal pencil skirt, and the Texan's tall, dark frame the perfect contrast to her leggy beauty. He didn't put his arm around her or anything, but the blond's territorial expression made it pretty clear that he was off limits. Nora sighed and dragged the mop and bucket back behind the counter.

From the back, she strained to listen, catching the Texan's slow drawl as he ordered drinks, but Nora didn't come around the counter to help. She dawdled with the mop, dumping out the murky water and refilling the bucket. By the time she came out front again, the Texan and his date had left, and Nora breathed a sigh that was half relief and half disappointment.

_He wouldn't have been interested in you, anyway,_ Nora thought crabbily as she looked down at her lean runner's body. _Guys like that want girls who know how to wear makeup and a pair of high heels and walk like they own the world._ Nora had never known how to pull that kind of confidence off; the only time she felt even remotely powerful was when her feet were pounding the pavement.

"Here," Laurel said, shoving a carafe full of milk at her and snapping Nora out of her thoughts. "The skim's out over there."

Distracted, Nora rounded the corner to the small busing station near the door, where napkins, sugar, and carafes of milk with careful chalk labels waited. She wiped it down before depositing the milk and grabbing the empty container, and she noticed that the cream was getting low, too. Picking that up, she headed back around the counter just as a girl with a huge laptop pushed her chair back, knocking into the cream and slopping it all over Nora. Nora bit back a curse, but the girl didn't even notice the mess as she began packing up her bag, and Nora shook her head, annoyed.

Once she'd washed her hands and wiped down the front of her apron as best she could, Nora took over the register so Laurel could take her smoke break. Her eyes checked the clock, and she exhaled loudly.

"Surely it's not that bad," a female voice said, and Nora whirled back to the register, her cheeks red, but then she sighed in relief.

Colleen was one of her regulars, but still, Nora tried not to complain to her customers about anything at work. Laurel and Caity seemed to have no such compunctions, but that didn't mean Nora felt comfortable bitching, even to someone as grandmotherly as Colleen with her immaculate silver hair and lovely blue eyes. Nora gave her a genuine smile and rang up the order without even asking. "How's your day so far, Colleen?"

The older woman shrugged gracefully. "Better than yours, it would seem." She studied Nora's face and smiled. "Although I do like the way you're wearing your hair today."

Nora's hand went for her neck, and she shook her head ruefully. "Hair tie broke, and I haven't had a chance to scrounge up another one."

"Still, it suits you far better than that runner's tail you always wear. Don't take this the wrong way, but for a moment, I didn't recognize you."" Colleen tucked a five in the tip jar as Nora turned away to start her dark chocolate double shot mocha.

Nora smoothed her hair away from her face with a smile. "I've never really been a fan of my hair," she admitted. "It feels weird to have it down."

"Weird can be good, and in this case, dear, I'd recommend that you get used to feeling weird. It's very becoming like this."

"Maybe." She handed Colleen her drink. "I hope the afternoon is good to you!"

"You, too, dear." The older woman waved before she headed for the door.

By the time they'd locked the doors behind the last customers, Nora was dead on her feet, but she still filled a bucket of soapy water and got down on her hands and knees, scrubbing the ancient grout lines while Laurel and Caity restocked for the next morning. Finally, she left the coffee shop well after the winter sun had set. _At least it isn't an all-night place_ , she thought as she glanced at the dark street. _Then I'd probably never make time to run._ As it was, she staggered home to the apartment she shared with her best friend in a haze, and by the time her head hit the pillow, Nora had almost convinced herself to skip her pre-dawn run the next day.

Almost, but not quite.

###

### MIDNIGHT RUN

### By Jen McConnel

Once Upon a Time never felt like this...

"Rapunzel" meets rock and roll in this modern fairy tale!

Amy is committed to her career, but when her old college roommate gets in touch, Amy realizes her success has come with a price: she gave up more than her dreams of being an artist when she graduated from college.

Sean hasn't written his own music since he saw the power his lyrics could have, but that doesn't stop him from playing covers and trying to have a little fun with every woman he meets. When Amy gets under his skin, however, Sean starts to wonder if a random hook up could become something more.

CUT LOOSE is a contemporary romance inspired by Rapunzel, and it's the second book in the Once Upon a Desire series.

Once Upon a Desire: contemporary fairy tales with a pinch of spice.

### Ready for a sneak peek of another book in the

### _Once Upon a Desire_ series?

### CUT LOOSE

### By Jen McConnel

###   
CHAPTER ONE

When Amy wandered into The Desert, she had no idea what to expect.

Christmas lights were strung haphazardly across the ceiling, and peanuts crunched on the floor underneath her black leather stilettos. Wrinkling her nose, she crossed the dirty floor to a decked-out tiki bar at the other end of the room. A chalkboard sign over the bar proclaimed "Oasis", and Amy rolled her eyes. Could this place be any kitschier?

"What can I get you?" The bartender, a woman of indeterminate age who looked like she'd lain out in the sun for one too many years, snapped her gum and grinned at Amy.

"I'll have a Manhattan," she said, aware of how ironic it was to order the quintessential city drink in a dive somewhere in the middle of Vermont.

The bartender didn't seem to notice the irony. "Any food, too?" She asked as she began mixing the drink right at the counter.

Amy raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "I didn't know there was a kitchen."

"There's not, but Pop's next door will always send over some fries or a pizza while you wait." The woman grinned, flashing a glimpse of her chewing gum. "Handy about setting up business in a small town; if you're nice and play by the rules, folks go out of their way to help out." She turned the martini shaker over a glass with an expert flick of her wrist and slid the drink across the counter to Amy.

"And if they aren't nice?"

The woman chuckled. "Won't last very long anywhere in Vermont, that's the truth."

God, it sounds like my version of hell, Amy thought, taking a sip of her drink. She glanced at it in surprise; it was nearly perfect. A little too much vermouth, but otherwise, pretty good. Maybe it was stereotypical of her to have been expecting the drink to taste like cat piss, but nothing about The Desert made her think she'd be able to get a decent cocktail. Looks like this weekend won't be so bad after all.

When Sharlene had emailed her out of the blue a few months ago, Amy had initially been pleased. They'd roomed together in college but lost touch over the intervening years, and it was a nice blast from the past to catch up with her old friend. And then when Sharlene announced her engagement, Amy had repressed a twinge of jealousy while offering her congratulations. It seemed like everyone she met was thinking about marriage if they weren't already married, and the closer to forty Amy got, the more she started to resent things like wedding invitations and baby showers. But Sharlene had insisted she come to the wedding in May, and even though Amy wanted to find a way out of it, part of her was eager to see her old friend again. Even if I did have to drive to the back end of beyond for the wedding.

"Ames!" A voice that hadn't changed despite the years echoed out across the murky room, and Amy looked up with a smile. Sharlene was still a bundle of energy. Amy tugged on the bottom of her fitted leather jacket and grinned at Sharlene.

"Only took us fifteen years for that reunion!" She joked, opening her arms for a hug.

Sharlene barreled into her, squeezing her tight. "You haven't changed at all!"

Amy laughed, forgetting to feel out of place in the dive. "You've always been a terrible liar."

Sharlene smiled at her. "You're still my Ames. I'm so glad you could come!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Amy said, surprised to realize that she meant it.

"I can't wait for you to meet the girls...and you'll flip when you see the groom!"

Amy checked the neon clock over the door. "Speaking of girls, didn't you say this party was starting ten minutes ago?"

Sharlene laughed. "Everyone moves a bit slower up here than you're probably used to. Still disgustingly punctual, huh?"

Amy smoothed a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear. "That's what makes me so successful!"

"It's what makes you a nerd, that's what it is." Sharlene smiled, and Amy couldn't help grinning back.

Before she could fire off a snappy comeback, squeals erupted from the door to the bar, and Sharlene turned, adding her own squeal to the melee. Three women bee lined toward them, and someone was hugging Amy before she could prepare herself.

"Oh, my gosh, you're Amy! Sharlene hasn't stopped bragging about you this week!" A short redhead with a frizzy pixie cut let go of Amy and grinned at her.

"Um, thanks?" Amy shifted uncomfortably. Falling back into the familiar warmth with Sharlene was one thing, but a random stranger hugging her wasn't usually on her agenda. She took a cautious step back, but the redhead didn't launch herself at Amy again.

A tall brunette slapped the redhead's hand away. "God, Carol, scare her why don't you?"

Carol rolled her eyes. "She's fine."

Trying to recover the situation, Amy held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Sharlene laughed and threw her arm around Amy's shoulder. "No need to put on the big city act with them. This is Carol, Joanne," she nodded at the brunette and then tipped her head toward a curvy woman with raven hair, "and Roxy. By the end of the night, they'll be just like your sisters."

Amy doubted that; it had been a long time since she'd had any girlfriends she thought of as sisters. Not since college, really, she realized, but she forced herself to smile despite her hesitation. "Does that mean it's time to get the party moving?"

Roxy laughed. "I like this girl already. Come on, ladies, let's make Sharlene's last night of freedom one to remember."

"Second to last," Sharlene reminded them as she led the way to a pair of sticky tables near a stage that Amy hadn't noticed. Pushing the tables together, Sharlene grinned at her. "I'm not dumb enough to have my bachelorette party the night before the wedding like that girl in college...what was her name?"

"Carly," Amy supplied, wincing at the memory. "Dumb enough to get married with a wicked hangover."

"Well, we'll all be able to sleep this one off tomorrow." Carol plopped down at the table and looked around expectantly, as if she was waiting for a drink to materialize in front of her.

"I've got the first round," Joanne called over her shoulder as she headed up to the tiki bar. For a moment, Amy wondered if she should offer to help her carry the drinks, but Sharlene patted the rough wooden chair next to her and smiled.

"We've got way too much catching up to do this weekend, girl. What have you been up to the last decade or so?"

Amy sat down gingerly, wondering what kind of residue might be lingering on the chair. "Just work, really." It might have sounded like a brush off, but it was the truth. Amy had made her career the center of her world years ago, and that dedication and drive had finally paid off; she'd just been made a junior partner at her banking firm, but she didn't think Sharlene or the others would really care about the minutiae of her work. Sadly, however, that drive and dedication had also left her with precious little social life, and she always ran out of small talk rather quickly, unless she was with other bankers.

"Never thought you'd become a Wall Street banker!" Sharlene shook her head. "I always thought you'd be an artist, remember?"

Amy shrugged, uncomfortably aware that Carol and Roxy were listening to her carefully. She still dabbled with her art; in fact, she'd made Sharlene a beautiful pendant with a new method of wire weaving she was experimenting with, but it didn't seem like the right time to give it to her. "It pays the bills," Amy finally said, deciding not to mention the jewelry until she was alone with Sharlene. Her job more than paid the bills, and after all the horrible publicity the industry got during the recession, Amy was sure they all knew it, but she desperately didn't want to talk about herself. "What about you?" She asked, turning to Carol and Roxy. "What do you both do?"

"I'm a hairdresser," Carol offered, "and Roxy runs the Pine Tree Inn."

Roxy grinned. "I'm guessing that's where you're staying, since it's the only hotel for miles."

Amy nodded. "I haven't checked in yet; I wanted to make sure I was on time for the party, so I drove straight here."

Joanne returned with a tray of open amber beer bottles. She passed them around, and then lifted hers toward Sharlene. "Here's to you, sweetheart. May your wedding day be perfect!"

"And may the night be even better," Carol added with a wink.

Sharlene giggled, and everyone clinked bottles. Amy took a tentative sip of beer and tried to hide her disgusted expression. Still tastes awful; I guess some things never change. She hadn't had beer since college, and she wondered if it would be rude of her to order another Manhattan, but before she could decide, the shrill sound of microphone feedback filled the bar, and a few patrons swore.

"Sorry about that, folks," a deep, mellow voice said, and Amy's eyes swiveled to the stage.

"Where'd he come from?" She asked appreciatively, taking in tight jeans, a vintage T-shirt, and five o'clock shadow.

Sharlene laughed. "Same place as Roxy. That's her brother."

Amy flushed. "Oh. Sorry." Her eyes swung back to the stage despite herself.

Roxy took a swig of her beer and grinned good-naturedly. "Don't be. Sean's the hottest piece of man-candy around, and don't he know it!"

"Second hottest, thank you very much." Sharlene said proudly. "Or have you all forgotten Jeremiah?"

Amy's eyes strayed to the stage again, but she pulled them away and looked at Sharlene. "Do I get to see a picture?"

Sharlene pulled out her phone with a wide smile. "There we are at the vineyard where he proposed," she tapped the screen, "and here's him at the beach." She sighed. "Just look at those abs!"

An acoustic guitar on an amp filled the room, cutting off Amy's reply, and she glanced back at the stage. Roxy's brother looked even sexier with the instrument slung over his shoulder, his eyes closed in concentration as he strummed the opening bars of "Cats in the Cradle". The only thing that isn't perfect about him is that ridiculous T-shirt, Amy thought, taking a sip of her drink before remembering she was still holding the beer. She made a face and finally pulled her eyes away from the musician.

Carol was watching her, and when Amy met her eyes, the redhead winked. "Nothing wrong with looking!"

"Aren't you dating anybody back in the city?" Joanne leaned forward, curiously.

Amy shrugged. "Not right now." Not for the past three years, she thought with a pang of loneliness. "There's just not enough time," she added in what she hoped was a casual tone.

"Well, you never know what will happen at a wedding!" Carol giggled, and Amy glanced nervously at Roxy.

The woman just smiled. "He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"He won't need to take care of anything," Amy protested loudly over the music. "I was just looking."

Sharlene winked. "Window shopping usually leads to buying."

Not in this case, Amy thought, resisting the urge to look at the stage again. A lazy musician isn't what I'm looking for, no matter how hot he is. She didn't want to piss the women off, though, so she just smiled and forced herself to take another swallow of beer.

###

### CUT LOOSE

### By Jen McConnel

