“Oh.”
“This show is pivotal for me. And I need you.” He speaks with such intensity and honesty that it almost seems as though we’re back in Santa Barbara, sitting under a tree holding hands. “And I know you need the money. It’s good for both of us,” he adds. “Kelsey, please.”
A lump forms in my throat, because I have to say no. I have to disappoint this man once again. I’d hurt him when I ran out of the party, and now I’m doing the same thing all over again. “I should never have even tried out,” I say. “I should have just stayed far away.”
For a moment, he simply looks at me, his expression hard. My stomach twists, because I’m sure he’s agreeing. After all, I destroyed so many things.
The silence grows heavy, and as I scramble for something to say, the Lyle Tarpin comes over and hooks his arm around Wyatt’s shoulder. I sit there like an idiot staring, because he’s my first up-close-and-personal movie star.
“Any luck on your quest to find that girl? Evelyn’s over by the bar if you want to enlist her help.”
Wyatt clears his throat, then nods toward me. “Lyle, meet Kelsey.”
“Kelsey,” Lyle says. “Oh. Right.” He points across the room. “Lovely to meet you, but I need to go over there now. I need privacy to extract my foot from my mouth.”
I laugh, my star-induced nervousness dissolving. “It’s okay,” I assure him, but he’s already heading off. I shift my attention to Wyatt. “Friend of yours?”
“My confessor,” he says. “I told him I’d been an ass and needed to lure you back. I also told him I didn’t know how to find you.”
“And yet here I am.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Here you are. Have I managed to lure you?”
“I—I just can’t. I need the money, you’re right. But last night, when you . . .” I clear my throat. “Well, when I saw the photos of me, I realized I was crazy to think it would work. I’d get the money I need, but I’d be fired in a heartbeat.”
“I’m not creating porn, Kelsey.”
“No! Wyatt, please. I already told you. There’s beauty and strength and . . . well, your work is amazing.”
“Then what?”
I sigh, because I shouldn’t have to explain this. “We both know there are people who won’t see it that way. And as much as I need fifteen grand right now, I need a career for the rest of my life.”
He nods thoughtfully, then turns away from the window. He glances over the guests in the room, and I see when his gaze lands on Griffin. “What’s the money for, Kelsey?”
I have to swallow the lump in my throat. “I told you it’s none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business.”
“Wyatt . . .”
“A treatment? Plastic surgery? What?”
“Fine. Whatever.” I’m too tired and flustered to argue. “It’s for a new protocol. His burns—” My voice cracks and I blink furiously, because I am not crying at this party.
“His burns go all the way to the bones, and he doesn’t have much range of motion on his right side. The protocol is supposed to help ease some of that by repairing some of the skin and nerve damage. I don’t know how. I just know that there’s been success in lesser burns and now they’re trying to adapt the protocol for fourth-degree survivors.”
I shrug. “He needs it, Wyatt. You can’t see how bad it is when he’s dressed, but he really needs this. And I really need to help him.”
“I saw his hand,” Wyatt says. “His arm, too. And even though he keeps it well-hidden, I have a sense of how extensive the scarring is under his hair.”
I glance at him curiously.
“It’s what I’m trained to do, Kelsey. I look at people. Really look at them.”
I nod. “Right. Well, anyway, I’ve already paid the initial fee, and he’s been accepted into phase one. That’s what I need the money for. Another few weeks is all I have. All he has.”
He nods thoughtfully, then turns back to face the window and the rolling hills below. The sun sets quickly in Los Angeles, and the hills that had been tinted red in the sunset are now a series of contrasting grays, illuminated by the scattered lights of Hollywood’s expensive homes.
Soon it will be completely dark, and all we’ll see is the party reflected in the glass.
I glance between the lingering view and his face, wondering what he’s thinking. But I don’t expect it when he says, very softly, “I had no idea he was your brother.”
“He uses a stage name. Griffin Blaize. It’s his idea of a joke.”
“How did it happen?”
I hug myself, suddenly cold. “It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”
“About twelve years ago. That’s what my mother said. She told me about this incredible voice talent. A really good-looking guy, she added. He’d be a great character actor, she said. But never a leading man. Not in this town. Not unless it was in an animated movie.”
I see my face reflected in the glass now, and I see that his eyes are intent on me.
“She said that he told her it happened when he was almost thirteen. When he was living one summer in Santa Barbara.”
I press a hand to my stomach, suddenly nauseous.
“It doesn’t matter,” I repeat.
He nods slowly, as if considering something, then faces the glass again, where the party now fills the view, and not the hills below. “I’ll lend you the money.”
“Wyatt.” His name is a whisper.
“It would be my privilege.”
“I—thank you, but no. I can’t accept it. I can’t take a loan from a friend when I know I probably won’t ever be able to pay it back.”
He studies me for so long I start to get uncomfortable.
“What?” I finally demand.
“So we’re friends?”
I actually laugh. “Yeah,” I say. “At least, I’d like to be.”
But I bite my lip against the urge to say what I’m really thinking—that I’d really like to be so much more.
19
Wyatt watched her walk away, a slow burn of loss and longing rising in his gut.
With a frown, he turned back to the window, disgusted with himself. But even that didn’t help. She was right there in the reflection, her back to him, her hips swaying as she crossed the room.
Right there, walking away from him again.
Well, that seemed to be their story, didn’t it? But right then, he damn sure wanted a different plot line.
Wanted, yeah. But that didn’t mean she was good for him. She’d hurt him once. And considering how quickly she’d snuck under his skin, it was only too obvious that she could easily hurt him again.
He needed to be careful. Focused.
Right now, the only thing he needed to think about in all the world was his work.
Strictly business all the way.
The only problem was that the vision he had for his business centered around her.
And as her receding reflection reminded him, she’d very firmly said no.