“Are you always this big of a tease?” He angled closer until his face was just inches from hers. She could make out the sheen of stubble on his chin, see the individual amber flecks in his eyes. But it was the lips that really struck her—those perfect, pouty, endlessly photographed lips. She wondered what they’d be like to kiss.
“Where’s Madison?” Her tone was sharper than intended.
“So you do know who I am.”
“I know who your girlfriend is, but you and I have never actually met.”
His laugh came easily. “Ryan. Ryan Hawthorne.” He offered a hand.
“Aster Amirpour.” She took his hand in hers, then quickly pulled away.
“Actually, Mad decided to stay in.” He raked his fingers through his hair.
“So, why didn’t you join her?”
A slow grin crept over his face. “I tried to be a good boy, but the mystery of the shoes had to be solved.”
Aster’s mind ran wild with all the different ways she could play it. Ryan Hawthorne had access to the world she desperately wanted to join, but she needed to keep her head and play it smart. She’d string Ryan along—he seemed to enjoy it—but not to the point of risking Madison’s wrath.
She was glad Madison had stayed home. Sure, she needed the get, but she was so far ahead of the game, there was no way she’d get cut. Besides, she’d lured Ryan Hawthorne to Night for Night; wasn’t that triumph enough? Maybe he didn’t count for as many points as Madison, but he was still at the top of the list, and if she could spend a little more time with him, she knew she could convince him to return, maybe next time with Madison.
“Shit.” Ryan stepped away from Aster, putting more of a platonic distance between them. “Fans. And even worse, fans with camera phones.”
Sure enough, word of his arrival had spread, and Aster was horrified to find her old private-school friends acting decidedly uncool for kids who’d grown up rich and privileged in Beverly Hills, where celebrity sightings were not a big deal.
“Hey, Aster!” they called, looking pointedly at Ryan.
She frowned, grasped his hand in hers, and led him back down the stairs and over to the Riad, Night for Night’s private VIP area.
“So, you work here.” He settled into a tented cabana as Aster drew the filmy curtains around them. “And here I thought you were the newest Victoria’s Secret Angel.”
She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Did you use that line on Madison too?”
He reached for the bottle of champagne chilling on ice, popped the top, and poured them each a glass. “Madison and I were introduced by our agents—it was all very romantic, I assure you.” He leaned back against the cushions as Aster fiddled with the stem of her glass, unsure how to respond.
She was surprised by his openness, his unexpected level of honesty, not to mention his obvious fatigue regarding all things Madison. While she knew better than to believe anything she read in the tabloids, especially when it came to Hollywood’s most buzzed-about power couple (if they weren’t claiming a breakup was imminent, they were breathlessly searching for a baby bump every time Madison wore a flowy top), she was still shocked to hear him refer to their meeting in such a bored way.
Was Ryan already over her?
And if so, did Madison know?
Was that why she’d chosen to stay home?
And, more importantly, what did it all mean for Aster? Would she have to rethink her whole strategy, or—
“You know, you seem a little obsessed with Madison. It’s the second time you’ve mentioned her.”
Aster lifted her glass to her lips. He was right about that. She’d done an exhaustive amount of research. Had even made a folder full of pictures and interview clippings documenting her rise to the top. Madison was living the life Aster longed for, and Aster would do everything she could to emulate her, but it wasn’t like she’d share that with Ryan.
“Just want to make sure you’re not headed for trouble,” she said, trying to find the balance between flirty and demure. “You know, sitting alone in this cabana with me.”
“So, this is purely out of concern?”
She hesitated. He was smarter than she’d expected. He’d know if she lied. “Not entirely,” she admitted. “I’m thinking Madison would make for one scary enemy. I’m determined not to find out either way.”
He took a swig of champagne, then leaned so close he had to rest his hand on her knee to keep from falling into her lap. “Tell you what, no more Madison talk, okay? I’m sorry for the smarmy line I ran by you earlier. I’m embarrassed I tried. I can see you’re no overeager groupie who will pretend to be charmed by whatever I say. Truth is, you intrigue me. And trust me when I say I did my best to stay away. Even tried to persuade Mad to join me for a nice romantic dinner, hoping it would keep me from doing something there’s no turning back from—”
Before he could continue, Aster lifted a hand between them, halting his words. She needed him to slow down, needed them both to take a step back.