Today’s going to be a good day.
Even with a hangover from hell, I know it will be. I’m excited to see Kane today. I don’t know what it was about our chat last night, but when I woke up this morning—even through the hangover—I felt as if a calm had settled over my soul. Sounds ridiculous, corny even, but I’m at peace with my decision to go forward and not look back. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but I’m ready and eager to see what every future second holds.
“Good morning,” I tell Kirby and Rob when I walk into the room.
Rob gives me a nod and looks back down at his iPad. I know he was able to get vacation from work to come here this week, but I’m sure he’s going insane not being able to keep up with the demands of his law firm.
He’s been expanding his firm for the last five years, and even in New York, a town saturated with the who’s who, he’s managed to make a name for himself in entertainment law. A part of me hopes he might have even more clients knocking on his door with Kirby’s new job.
I move around the island, but before I can get a few steps, Kirby grabs my face between her hands and smacks her lips on mine. Full-on contact, closed mouth, eyes open. Surprise holds me still and confusion captures me dumb.
As quickly as she grabs and attacks, she pulls back, standing in front of me with the oddest expression on her face.
“What the heck, Kirb?”
She cocks her head to the side, that curious expression getting even more inquisitive as one sharply sculpted brow rises before falling again. Her blue eyes, wide and vivid, dance with mirth deep within their depths. She stands there a beat studying my stunned face before quirking one shoulder and turning to walk back to her bagel.
“You’re so peculiar,” I tell her, my surprise making way for a very unladylike, snort-type laugh.
Rob looks up at his wife and just shakes his head. Her shoulder comes up again to shrug me off while taking a big bite of her breakfast.
Brushing off Kirby’s odd behavior, I finish making my way around the island and pop my own bagel into the toaster. We finish our breakfast, making small talk while we wait for our ride. I know now that the special treatment we seem to be getting has everything to do with Kane’s interest in me. I’m not sure if I would have been bothered by this a few days ago or maybe a little scared at the control he wields, but now—knowing whatever is between us is a lot stronger than I could have ever dreamt—it just brings a smile to my face.
Yes. Today is going to be a good day.
Cam was quiet, for the most part, during our drive. When we first opened the doors to climb in, I caught the tail end of a book playing through the speakers before he powered off the sound. Judging by what I heard, I was stunned to hear something that clearly had some romance in it. Cam, to me, seems like a man who would prefer action, guns, and death. Oh well, I guess that just goes to show you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
Things are insane when we make it to the set a mere fifteen minutes later. Kirby had been going over the call sheet I handed her yesterday afternoon, making notes about when she needed to have each actor in her chair in order to have them camera ready in time for their scenes. She didn’t have anything too intense like Alessandra’s battle wounds yesterday, but today, the bulk of scenes filmed would involve the supporting actors. Kirby and Grant were in charge of three or more heads for each scene. I could tell she was nervous when we finally parked behind the trailers. Yesterday was easy for her; she loved it, but today would really put her to the test.
“You’re going to be fine, Kirb.”
She nods, her silence betraying her calm and showing just how nervous she is.
“Hey,” I say. “I’m going to go tell Kane that I’m sticking with you today. He might have been full of crap when he said I was your assistant, but you need me. Let me help you out.”
Her shoulders visibly sag when she lets out the tension that had been growing. “You think he’ll be good with that?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” I challenge.
“Umm, maybe because he clearly likes having you close.”
My snort-like laugh comes out before I stifle it. “He’ll be fine. Plus, I’ll be close enough. If I stick too close, he’s bound to get sick of me.”
“I doubt that. What are you really thinking? That he won’t have the same crazy yearning to be near you that he displayed yesterday if you spend too much time together or something?”
“It’s crossed my mind,” I respond honestly.
“Ha! Fat chance of that, Wills. That man is so enchanted by you that he might as well be hypnotized.”
“Whatever,” I huff. Yeah … funny thing, I feel the same way. The feelings he gives me when we’re together are like a drug—and I feel the withdrawals of its loss when we’re apart.
Insane.
Crazy.
Extreme.