I need to get control of this situation, but I suck at confrontation. There’s no way I’d be able to maintain my composure if I went head to head with this man. I’d rather grab the shackles out of my suitcase and restrain his hands to the armrests. It wouldn’t shield me from the intensity of his eyes, but I’d feel a little safer knowing he couldn’t physically hurt me.
It’s a ridiculous fear. Infidelity assured me their employee screening process is unparalleled.
Leaning forward, Decker braces sinewy forearms on his thighs, and it’s all I can do to maintain my practiced posture—spine straight, shoulders back, chin lifted.
“Your smile’s faltering.” He rubs his whiskered jaw, his expression thoughtful. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No,” I say too quickly, unable to hold my mask in place. “Do I make you nervous?”
“Yes.” He clasps his hands together between his bent legs. “Where’s your husband?”
The question startles a laugh from me. “You mean Blake?” I study the confused look on his face. “You really don’t know?”
His eyes darken.
“Do you not watch TV?” I should be offended, but the idea that he’s clueless about celebrity gossip has a strangely wonderful effect on me.
“I don’t own a TV.” A muscle bounces in his cheek. “Are you married or not?”
“Divorced.”
“It’s been all over the news for the last month.” Reese grunts. “Do you live under a rock?”
“Just this past month?” Decker doesn’t take his eyes off me. “That’s funny. Your assistant gave me the impression he’s been selecting candidates for your bed for a while. Were you cheating on your husband?”
Reese jerks forward, but I put a hand out, staying him.
“I’ve never cheated. I divorced Blake two years ago.” My chest pinches, but I don’t let the pain show on my face. “Our publicist wanted us to keep the separation quiet until after the premier of Cherry Springs. Have you heard of—”
“I saw the movie,” Decker says without inflection or emotion.
He stares at me so intently my skin flushes. Is he thinking about the graphic sex scenes between my on-screen character and Blake’s? God, the filming and promotion of that movie was one of the most painful things I’ve ever done. Pretending to be blissfully in love with Blake—both on and off the screen—broke pieces inside me I’m not sure will ever heal.
I don’t know why I feel the need to explain myself, but my mouth moves before I can stop myself. “I use body doubles. The nudity…the shots during the sex scenes that didn’t show my face…that wasn’t me.”
He nods, and his shoulders seem to loosen. “Will you be filming more movies with your ex-husband?”
What a strange question, but since he’s not in the business, I guess he wouldn’t know how these things work.
“She won’t be costarring with Blake again.” Reese gives me a sympathetic smile. “Hollywood is all about pairing real-life couples on the big screen. But when a famous duo breaks up, it’s ugly and scandalous and often career damaging.” He squeezes my knee. “Laynee will bounce back. She always does.”
Decker’s gaze zooms in on Reese’s hand until Reese removes his touch.
“Where do you live?” Decker cocks his head. “Beverly Hills?”
“Oh, uh… No.” I curl my toes in the shaggy rug. “Savannah, actually. We’re heading back in the morning.”
“We?” Decker looks between Reese and me.
“The plan is to bring you with us.” I meet his eyes. “I have a private plane, and it would be easier if—”
“Jesus.” He leans back and rubs a hand over his head, mussing the tousled strands of his brown hair. “This is…”
“Fast?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“The longer I stay in the city, the harder it is to slip under the radar.”
Decker watches me with a blank expression.
“All it takes is one hotel employee.” Reese bends forward, eyes tapered. “The server who delivers the meals, the maid, the technician monitoring the security cameras… Someone will violate their NDA and leak Laynee’s location to the press. It’s just a matter of time, probably hours, before paparazzi surround the hotel and make it a goddamn nightmare to leave.”
“Okay.” Decker rolls his lips in thought. Beautiful lips. Full, firm, kissable… “Tell me how I fit in to all of this.”
“Well.” My chest rises and falls with a sigh. “When the time is right, my publicist will create a buzz about my new boyfriend. A strategy that will promote the perception that I’ve moved on from Blake—”
“Perception?”
“I have moved on.” I grind my teeth. “But in my world, perceptions are reality, and right now the perception is that I’m a scorned woman, hiding in my home and drowning myself in alcohol. You are the fix, but if I’m seen with you too soon, you’ll be a rebound, and I’ll be a whore. Timing is everything, and Violet knows how to navigate these things. She’ll tell me when it’s time to make public appearances together. Meanwhile…” I shrug. “You’ll stay in my home and keep a low profile while I go out and prove to the world that I’m a happy independent woman.”