BREAD PUDDING?

I hid my face behind my fresh fruit cup and rolled my eyes at Adam’s table manners, counting the minutes until we could escape this small quiet dinner for three.

Thankfully Adam left the table to go say hello to Trent, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“That bad?” Jack asked, his hand sneaking under the table to take a spot slightly higher than my knee.

“How could you tell?”

“Really? You think I can’t tell when you’re irritated? Your lip pouts out and you get this little crinkle at the end of your nose and—”

“Five more, George. Five more.”

“I said crinkle, not wrinkle. Crinkle!” He laughed, sliding his hand farther up the inside of my leg.

I patted it and sent it back toward my knee, a safer zone. “Wrinkle, crinkle, all the same thing. Besides, you want these five, believe me.” I winked and saw the green begin to darken. Oh boy.

“Oh no, I want them, but just so you know, I know you’re deflecting.” He leaned closer to me and let his hand move north again. Damn, he was good. I picked up his hand and moved it once more, then picked up my butter knife and made a gesture toward something else below the tablecloth.

“I’m not deflecting. I just . . . I don’t get it! I don’t see why this person is now essential. He’s an ass, Jack. A real ass,” I explained, not hiding my disdain any longer.

He sighed and brought both hands up under his chin to rest. “Look, I know he can be a little direct—”

“Direct? That’s a word for it.”

“But he’s really a good guy. I like working with him. He knows the town; he knows the business. Just lighten up, okay?”

I nodded and noticed Adam coming back to the table. This conversation needed to end. For now.

“Sorry about that. I haven’t seen that guy since we wrapped Motion Sickness,” Adam explained, snapping, actually snapping, for the waitress. She would be getting a big fat tip from me tonight. And speaking of tip, Jack was ready to go. He’d gotten antsy all of a sudden, looking around the room, slouching lower in his chair.

“Where? Who did you see?” I asked quietly, leaning back in my chair and making sure I wasn’t too close to Jack.

This wasn’t exactly the kind of place we normally went to, but Adam picked the restaurant. It was high-profile, frequented by industry people and hangers-on alike; it was young Hollywood, and it was risky. Jack and I drove separately, and he came in through the back entrance. It was high-profile enough that it had a private entrance in the rear for celebrities to enter and exit discreetly. Which was the opposite of what this evening was becoming.

“Four o’clock, camera phones. Those two women have been staring for the past few minutes. Plus that guy at the bar looks familiar. I’ve seen him recently,” he muttered, deliberately not looking at the location he just gave me.

Turning nonchalantly in that direction, Adam took the opportunity to squint at the guy in question and pronounce him paparazzi.

“How do you know he’s—” I started, and Adam just looked blandly at me.

“I know, okay?” he replied, grinning in the direction of the guy.

I’d had enough. “Listen, since it’s clear this is about to turn into something, I’m gonna cut it short and head out. Besides, Holly’s expecting me.”

“You sure?” Jack asked, squeezing my knee under the table.

“Yeah, it’s better this way anyway—if we don’t leave at the same time.”

“We’ll be there soon. Don’t worry.” He nodded, giving me a final squeeze.

“Adam, it was great. Are you coming to Holly’s?”

Please say no, please say no, please say no.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He grinned.

“Great,” I said through my teeth. Heading out quickly, I averted my eyes when walking by the guy in question at the bar, and I made sure to keep my head turned away from the camera phones. Now that I was gone, I had no doubt that those women would approach Jack and Adam. They were stars after all.

I piled myself into my little car and sped up into the hills. No tan sedans in sight.

Holly’s party was massive, much bigger than her last. Lanterns lined the driveway and laughter and music spilled out of every door and every window. Tiki torches dotted the patio, and the lights of Los Angeles spread out as the perfect backdrop. Floating candles lit up the pool, handsome waiters passed lovely noshy treats, and the bartenders rivaled those in Cocktail.

This was pure industry, pure Hollywood. And Jack was at the center of it. Normally shy in crowds, the months of constant attention and media appearances had thickened his skin and made him a pro. He shone now when lit from the outside. I still saw the nervous here and there, the hand in the hair, the tapping of the shoe, but as he mingled with actors, producers, directors, writers, he was a movie star. But still a secret Golden Girls fan.

He winked at me from across the patio as I sat in one of the comfy chairs with one of my favorite people on the planet, Nick.

“So glad to see you. I missed you!” I cried, squeezing his hand as we sipped our dirty martinis.

“I missed you too, of course, but you know I missed looking at your boy the most.”

“Yes, I know this. I know my friendship with you is based solely on the ability to look at the pretty.” I laughed.

“As long as we’re clear, we’re good!”

We sipped and gossiped. I shared stories with him about the series, and he told me how much he was missing Los Angeles. As we chatted, I felt a pair of large, meaty hands wrap around my eyes from the back.

“Lane!” I cried, turning to find Jack’s costar.

“Hey, gorgeous!” He swept me up into a tight hug. Lane was a dear, a giant teddy bear who loved nothing more than to tease Jack about my sweet rack.

“I was hoping to see you here tonight. How are things?” I asked as he set me down. Nick petted his biceps like a cat, and Lane slung an arm around his shoulders. Sighing into his dirty martini, Nick was a happy camper.

“Things are good. Where’s that idiot boyfriend of yours?” Lane asked. I swiveled in my chair, tracking him through the crowd.

“He’s over by the bar with Adam Kasen,” a voice piped up, and Rebecca joined the group.

“Good night, nurse! It’s like a Christmas special. Where are all of you coming from?” I laughed as she sat down next to me and clinked her glass to mine.

“I just snuck in, saw Jack over by the bar, and kept moving,” she replied, sipping from her cocktail.

We all turned toward the bar and watched as Jack and Adam entertained the ladies who were clustered about. I knew better than to be jealous. We were solid now, and it wasn’t a concern. But as I watched, that same feeling that I had when we were at the restaurant came over me. Something just didn’t sit right when it came to Adam.

“What do you know about Adam? Anything?” I asked Rebecca, leaning in. Which wasn’t hard, since she’d decided to share my chair.

“That guy’s a dick,” she replied immediately, rolling her eyes.

Shocker.

“That’s kind of what I got too.”

“Worked with him on my first movie. Slept with him once and never again.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what? You slept with him?” I whisper-yelled.

Lane and Nick were occupied with tales of how much Lane could bench-press.

“Sure. Have you seen him? He’s gorgeous. And great in bed. But he’s a dick.”

“I don’t like him.”

“I don’t like that he’s hanging out with Jack.” She drained the rest of her drink.

The crowd parted just enough that I caught Jack’s eye, and he grinned. That panty-dropping grin. He leaned over to Adam and then, like in a music video, he started across the patio toward me. Dressed in a red vintage concert tee, leather jacket, low-slung jeans, and my favorite blessed Doc Martens, he made my heart go pitter pat.