Los Angeles (International Guy Book 12) Page 8

  I suck in a huge breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. I just needed a little pep talk, I think. I’m good. Back in the game.”

  She chuckles as the bell to our penthouse suite rings. We chose to stay in a different hotel than the guys to be extra careful that we wouldn’t accidently bump into them.

  I gulp down a good deal of wine as I wait while Rachel and Ellie go to the door. Nothing like liquid courage to soothe all that ails you.

  Elliott enters from the hall with a tall blonde trailing behind her, and Rachel behind them.

  “She’s clear. Patted her down, checked her purse.” Rach lifts her chin and goes back to her crossword puzzle where she was sitting at the bar-top kitchen area across the suite. She sits in a way that’s still facing us so she can assess the group and keep an eye on the door and balcony at all times. Nate is in his room getting a much-needed nap. He hates to admit it, but even though he’s back, he still has to take it easy and build up his strength.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, my mouth dropping open in shock when Tara Darling shuffles toward me with her hand out in greeting, a wide smile on her face. It’s not every day that you meet your doppelgänger.

  “Ms. Paige, it’s such an honor to meetcha! I’m a huge, huge fan of yours.” She squeezes my hand brutally and yanks it up and down. “I can’t believe this!” the woman practically squeals as excitement gets the best of her.

  I yank my hand out from hers and shake it. “Wow. You’ve got quite the grip.”

  “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry. My daddy always said I had the handshake of a wrestler.” Her voice dips into a bit of a southern accent.

  “Yes, well, thank you for coming, Ms. Darling,” Ellie says. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “A Coke will do just fine if you have one. And you can call me Tara.”

  “Sure.” Ellie opens a cabinet in the bar until she finds a can of Coke, grabs a crystal tumbler, adds ice, and pours the drink before bringing it over to Tara. She then picks up her own glass of wine and proceeds to sit on the couch next to the woman, turning her body toward her.

  “We appreciate you coming to speak with us,” she says to start the conversation.

  Tara pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear, licks her lips, and swallows. “Oh, surely it is all my pleasure, Ms. Black.” Tara’s gaze moves to meet mine. “I’m just so thrilled to be working on a project with you, Ms. Paige. I can’t even express my gratitude.”

  “You’re welcome. And you may call me Skyler or Sky. Everyone does.”

  “Sky . . . ,” the woman says with a hint of wonder in her tone.

  I smile and set my wine on the glass coffee table before bringing my hands together in front of me, my elbows resting on my knees in a casual position. “Let’s talk about how it went today, shall we?”

  Tara nods several times while twisting her fingers in her lap as though she’s an eager puppy looking for attention. “I played it so cool. At first, I was worried he was going to throw me off the stage. He did not like seeing a look-alike of you appear in the lineup of contestants. Definitely made him uncomfortable,” she gushes.

  A niggle of worry taps at my subconscious. The last thing I want to do is make him uncomfortable. I know leaving me was hard on him in the first place after all we’ve been through recently.

  Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way?

  The scary thought is a seed in my gut, growing bigger with each word that Tara says.

  “And then when Louise came in and laid it out that she intended to hire a look-alike, he seemed to feel a little bit better about that, though I don’t know why.”

  “Shit, he was probably worried more drama was happening.” I look at Ellie, my heart pounding and my stomach twisting into knots.

  She shakes her head. “Skyler, it’s not a big deal.” She gestures to the woman sitting next to her. “Did it seem like a big deal in the end, Tara?”

  Tara shakes her head. “No. Though his partner, Royce, that really hot African American guy . . .” Her voice deepens. “You ever see a man wear a suit better than him?” Her eyes bug out as she fans herself with one hand.

  “Yeah, I have. Parker,” I state flatly, my mind flashing on a variety of images where my man was suited up and looking fine as hell.

  Tara beams. “Well, he wasn’t wearing a full matching designer suit, so I guess I’ll just have to wait until I get the pleasure of seeing that to base my decision on.”

  I clench my jaw. “You were saying about Royce . . .” I lead her back to the point of the conversation, the part that I’m interested in hearing.

  “Oh yes. He grilled me. Wanted to know where I came from, who my parents were, what school I went to, and why I wanted to be an actress, as well as why I wanted to be on the show.”

  “And what did you tell him?” I ask, my heart thumping against my rib cage in a beat so loud I can almost hear it outside of my body.

  “The basics. Answered everything truthfully except why I was on the show. Told them I was looking for airtime—which isn’t untrue, I totally am—but also that I wanted a love connection.”

  “And do you think they bought it?” Elliott interrupts.

  “Definitely. I’m a good actress. I’ve won awards and everything back home in Tennessee.” Tara lifts her chin and stretches her spine, making her seem taller.

  I grab my wine and sit back, tapping the edge of the glass with my nail. “They’re going to have her story checked. They’ll find out that she doesn’t usually look so much like me and will wonder why.”

  “Didn’t you say that Wendy was on her honeymoon? Who are they going to have drop everything and look her up?” Ellie asks.

  My publicist . . . on point and so freakin’ smart.

  “That is true! Mick will not let Wendy anywhere near her phone or laptop. They’d have to call him and only if it were an emergency. If they called about a random actress who happens to look like me, he’d hang up on their asses so fast.” I giggle and lift my hand to Ellie, who high-fives it. I turn to Tara, and she smacks my hand in the air too, following along, not really knowing who we’re talking about or why we’re excited but doing it anyway.

  “Rach!” I lift my hand in the air, and without her even looking up from her crossword, she air-fives me.

  My badass guard. So cool!

  Rachel’s always paying attention, even when I don’t think so. It’s a little creepy and a whole lot awesome.

  “Okay, I feel a little better. What did Parker ask you?”

  Tara maneuvers her body so she’s sitting exactly like I am. Her gaze flickers from my hand movements to my body, and she matches me exactly. Not too shabby. In our business, every actress loves having the object of her role available to her so she can pick up on subtle nuances, gestures they make, their body language, how their voice rises and falls in cadence in order to make the character we’re portraying more realistic.

  “He asked me what type of man I was looking to connect with and why.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  She chuckles. “Basically, I told him everything I saw in him. Tall, brunette, light eyes, great physique, talented in business, knows a good woman when he sees her, and makes those moves to secure his position in her life.”

  “And what did he say in return?”

  “He laughed rather brilliantly and said in a joking manner, ‘Have you been talking to my woman?’ I waved it off as if it wasn’t anything, but I knew what I’d said hit the mark.”

  I can’t help but enjoy this, even if Parker’s a little uncomfortable. Tara doesn’t have any ulterior motive other than to move her career forward, and she’s not being too pushy. It’s all going to make for really great TV when it’s all said and done . . . provided it goes my way in the end.

  “Skyler, it seems as though Tara is doing as requested of her. Do you have any concerns?” Ellie asks.

  “Besides the risk of my man being pissed that I concocted this entire thing? No.” I toss back the res
t of my wine and stand up. “You’re doing a fine job, Tara. Actually, really great.”

  “Anything you need, I’m your gal!” Tara pours on the charm.

  “Thank you so much, Tara. We appreciate your work so far. We’ll let you be on your way then.” Ellie stands, gesturing quite specifically that it’s time for the woman to get a move on.

  I reach out my hand. “Thanks again.”

  This time she doesn’t strangle it.

  “Like I said. Anything you guys need, I’m your go-to gal. Thanks, y’all.” She waves, heading toward the door. Rachel is already there, prepared to walk her out.

  When Rach returns from the entryway, I take my glass and head over to the bar to refill my wine. “I want pizza, with extra cheese and extra pepperoni,” I grumble, wanting to consume my feelings. The same could be said when I pour a much-larger-than-standard “four” ounces of wine, almost draining the bottle before I take the remainder over and top off Ellie’s glass.

  “You think Nate is going to let you get away with pizza? You’re outta your mind.” Rachel shakes her head. “And I’m not even going to tell him you’re knocking back three-quarters of a bottle when you are supposed to be training for the first day of shooting, which I will remind you starts in two weeks.” Rachel turns the page of her game book, moving to another puzzle. I’m not sure if she finished the first or is just moving ahead because she’s stuck.

  “I can have pizza,” I state snottily.

  “You can. You can also have three times the number of burpees to do, miles you have to run in the morning, pull-ups, and the row machine for partaking.” She shrugs in a bored manner. “Up to you.”

  I suck in a sharp breath, wincing. “Not if you don’t tell him.”

  Finally, Rach lifts her head up and nails me with an ice-blue stare. “Really?” The way she says really is sarcastic, but it also carries a hint of a challenge.

  I smile around my glass and stare her down. “I’m positive my girl can get her husband’s mind off my diet and onto other things . . . oh, let’s say, whatever else pops up.”

  Rachel grins. “Are you suggesting I seduce my man with some mind-altering monkey sex so he’ll forget about your diet?”

  I lift one shoulder and take a big sip of yummy wine that’s getting even yummier the more I drink down. “If you think you’ve got the skills.” I sigh dramatically.

  “Oh, I’ve got the moves.” She stands with her hands on her small hips. “Don’t ever doubt my man is well satisfied in the sack.”

  Smirking, I glance at Ellie. “Guess you’ll have to prove that while Elliott and I hammer back a large pizza, my friend.”

  “Large! For real? You can’t even get a personal size for yourself? One that has tons of veggies on it?”

  I shake my head and wait out the storm brewing behind that icy gaze.

  Rachel groans and looks up at the sky. “I’m going to have to bust out the big guns for this. We’re talking bedroom calisthenics, maybe a little yoga thrown in for flair. Don’t expect us to arrive early tomorrow. My man is going to need to sleep in after the smackdown I have planned.”

  I laugh hard, covering my mouth.

  Rachel points at me and narrows her gaze. “Don’t you dare say I didn’t do you any favors. Freakin’ large pizza,” she gripes. “You better follow up tomorrow morning with a serious dose of protein. I’m talking egg white omelet filled with spinach and a touch of asiago, no cheddar!” She continues to grouse, then firms her chin and puts on her game face, which makes her look even more fierce than usual. “Fine. Challenge accepted. Order your freakin’ pizza already. I’m getting antsy to attack my man now that you’ve got me all riled up.” She moves from her space in the kitchen to the open area in front where she can lean against the couch and do some push-ups.

  Both Ellie and I watch her stretch as if she’s preparing for a full marathon.

  “Pizza!” She snaps her fingers. “Now. Or I’m going to change my mind.” She shakes her head. “The crap I take for the sisterhood.”

  “Oh please, like you’re not going to be getting yours.” I roll my eyes for dramatic effect.

  She grins wickedly. “For every one I give, I get two to three in return. It’s Nate’s own personal man scale of orgasms. He thinks if a woman’s not getting it on a one-to-two or one-to-three ratio, a man is no man at all.”

  Damn. Go, Nate. And yay for Rach. I want to applaud, but I rein it in so I don’t get clobbered or get my pizza taken away.

  “Did you say whether or not Nathan has brothers?” Ellie queries, holding up the phone to her ear without missing a single beat in the conversation.

  I look at Rach, who stops mid–side stretch and stares at me, and then we both move our gaze to Elliott and crack up laughing.

  “Baby, it was the weirdest thing. You have no idea. This chick looks so much like you, I did a double take. Then I got pissed and was convinced our shit luck had come back.” Parker’s voice is in my ear lulling me to a relaxed state while I rub my very full and totally protruding belly from the pizza baby I just ate.

  “Yeah, that’s strange. It was all good after you grilled her and spoke to the director, right? Just designed to up the ratings since the public knows you’re working the project and I did that promo piece for the show?”

  He sighs, and the sound has me imagining him lying cuddled up with me in our bed, my leg slung over his thighs, his hand on my ass, and his breath moving me with every exhalation. I can almost hear a phantom echo of his heartbeat in my ear, the same one that usually knocks me out within minutes each night. We can’t even get through one TV program before we’re both conked out, especially after a round of Parker-style lovemaking, which is usually pretty adventurous and physically draining.

  “It felt odd seeing this woman who looked like you, had some of your mannerisms, but wasn’t you. Like I was being pranked,” he grumbles, clearly put out by the experience.

  A knife prods at my heart. “Honey . . . ,” I whisper, wanting him to know I’m there for him. His tone makes me want to call the entire surprise off, but I’ve put too much into it to go back now. Elliott was right earlier. There are a lot of people counting on the success of my harebrained idea.

  “I know what you’re going to say . . . ,” he groans. “Don’t read too much into it. Not everyone is trying to screw us over all the time.”

  “Only some of the time,” I say with a hint of humor.

  He chuckles and lets out a long breath once again. “Being away from you is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “For me too. It’s like a piece of me is gone and I’m waiting patiently to get it back.”

  “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Tell me something good about your day.”

  I smile, enjoying the fact that he’s trying to put us both at ease prior to bed, talking about something positive in our lives.

  “Well, Ellie and I halved a large pizza that had extra pepperoni and extra cheese! We also drank a bottle and a half of wine to wash it down.”

  He laughs. “Bet that didn’t go over well with the big guy. How’d you manage it?”

  I grin wide and snuggle deeper into my blankets. “I challenged Rach to seduce him into submission so that he would be busy giving her the business while Ellie and I gobbled down two nights’ worth of calories and fat in one go.”

  “Shee-it.” He uses Royce’s coined curse word. “Nate’s going to be pissed if he finds out.” He laughs hard.

  “Part of the secret of the sisterhood. I promised her I wouldn’t expect them to work early if she made sure he forgot to ask me about dinner.”

  “Nice. You think it will work, or do you gather you’ll be paying in blood in the gym tomorrow?”

  “Mmm, it’s a risk I was willing to take. Now me and my pizza baby are going to sleep like a rock.” I rub my gut, which is finally starting to feel less stuffed.

  He snickers. “Your pizza baby?”

  “Yep, I’m naming him Gordo.”

  “Gordo
is fat in Spanish, baby.”

  I lower my voice. “Shhh, he doesn’t know.” I add to the ruse. “He’ll have hurt feelings if he knows his momma called him fat.”

  He cracks up laughing, and it fills my heart with such joy. “Ah, Peaches, I miss your brand of crazy. It suits me just right.”

  “And I miss your dick.” Oh shit, did I say that out loud? Looks like the wine is still in effect. I can’t stop the train of my thoughts while my mouth keeps talking, spilling all. “Yeppers. Your cock, honey, suits me just right. Literally fills me up so I don’t feel so empty when I try to sleep without you. I don’t have to drink and eat myself into a food coma in order to catch some z’s.”

  “Damn, Peaches. If you could see me, you’d see that the object of your current obsession is standing up waving its flag of surrender. It’s hard on me too. Physically and emotionally, but I know what might help.”

  I grin. “What?” I say in what I hope sounds like a sexy timbre.

  “First I want you to put your thumbs into the sides of your panties and shimmy them down those sexy-as-fuck thighs and kick them off. Then push the tank you’re wearing up and over your perfect tits. I can’t get over how beautiful your tits are. Perfect handfuls, just right for my hands. Enough that they spill over in a way that makes me fuckin’ crazy to put my mouth on them. Then I want you to hang up the phone and play with your nipples the way I would.”

  “Hang up?” I say with a strained tone. “But . . .”

  “No buts, baby. We’ll get to your ass another time. Right now, I need you to hang up the phone and play with your tits. And don’t you dare think about touching your pussy. Do you understand me?”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get settled in bed and call you back with your surprise. All right? Take direction from your man and play with your titties for a few minutes and wait for me. Can you do what I say?”