Never Say Never (The Price of Fame Series) (8 page)

Rachel turned to see what Chloe was gaping at, and quickly excused herself when she saw Sander. His hip rested against the counter and a wry grin curved his lips.

“Hi,” she said. Her cheeks warmed. She felt like a child being caught doing something naughty.

He pushed off the counter and stalked toward her until he was so close she could feel the waves of heat pounding off him. Fighting the urge to lean into him, to inhale his clean, musky scent, she stepped back.

“I’m glad to hear spending time with me isn’t a chore.” He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes glittering with humor. “I hoped you had some fun last night…”

Mortification burned in her cheeks. “I did have fun,” she insisted. “Last night was amazing. Thank you.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip and she shivered all over.

“I’m glad.” Looking down at the table, a frown marred his brow.

Oh no, the picture.
Chloe made a grab for the newspaper, swiped it up, and promptly shoved it behind her back.

He raised his brow. “What are you hiding, Chloe?”

She swallowed. Her gaze sought out Rachel for some faux support, but she was busy clearing a table at the far end of the room. The burn in her cheeks crept down her neck, and she realized there was no escaping it. She had to show him the picture.

Handing him the newspaper, she looked everywhere but directly at him. The rustling of the pages was drowned out by his whistle.

“No wonder you’re embarrassed. It looks like you’re mauling me.”

Indignation burned through her mortification and she glowered up at him. His eyes sparkled with humor and that bloody Hollywood smile almost split his face in two. It didn’t melt her panties this time though.

“It was
you
who mauled
me
if I remember correctly.”

“This picture says otherwise.”

Sander held the photo up for her further inspection. She gritted her teeth together as she realized he was right.

“At least no one will doubt you’re crazy about me.”

Chloe huffed out a breath. Her heart pounded double time. It had been years since she’d felt so flustered, and she couldn’t find her cool, polite persona if she’d tried. “More like you make me crazy, you big…oaf.”

He burst into a fit of laughter, dropped the paper on the table, and grabbed the back of a chair for support. Anger still flared in her stomach, but she cringed internally at the childish comment. He did make her crazy, and stupid, and wanton. The man was messing with her head.

Not willing to be tormented further, she stalked by him to the counter. She’d been in for almost ten minutes and hadn’t lifted a finger. Richard wouldn’t be pleased if he knew she’d been slacking off.

“Aw, Chloe. Wait.”

She heard his footsteps on the wooden floor behind her. Chloe turned. She could see he was making an effort not to laugh at her, but somehow in her agitation, it made her anger hotter.

“Don’t you think I know how desperate I look in that picture? I don’t need to be reminded, Sander.”

The amusement slid from his face.

“You’ll get a slap on the back from the guys, but women will look at me like I’m a cheap slut, throwing herself at a star.”

Until now, she hadn’t cared what other people thought. But coming from him, the ribbing hurt. Her anger drained away, leaving her deflated and empty. She closed her eyes. Last night had been the best night she’d had in forever, and today was the price she paid. Wasn’t that the way her life was though? She scored a fancy job, got a dream man, then just at the peak of her happiness, it all shattered around her, leaving her broken and vulnerable.

“Hey, I was joking.”

Sander gripped her hips. Her eyes flew open, and she saw the pity in his expression. She didn’t want pity, not from him. Pulling his hands from her waist, she backed up.

“Leave it, Sander. I’m not in the mood to joke around.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. It was me who kissed you. The photographer probably took a rake of pictures and picked the juiciest. I know you’re not crazy about me. You agreed so you’d have a chance to give your mother a better future.”

“I’ll never, ever do more than kiss you for the camera. Ever.” Chloe didn’t know if it was herself she was trying to convince or him. “And yes, getting this job would help with my mum, and applying makeup is something I love—” She stopped, too scared to jinx the interview.

“Never say never.” Sander winked. “I forgot to ask, how did the interview go?”

His comment hinted that maybe something more would happen between them, and heat pitched in her tummy. She studied his face. A knowing grin curved his lips and his baby blues shone with barely concealed excitement, distracting her. The big kid. Chloe fought back a smile.

“I’m sure you know more about it than I do.”

He shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. “What do you say to dinner at The Ivy tonight?”

Chloe blinked in rapid succession. “Excuse me?” There was no way they would get into the Mitchelin star restaurant without going on the three month wait-list.

“The Ivy. Tonight at seven.”

She opened and closed her mouth several times, but nothing would come out but puffs of air. He must have pulled some serious strings to get the reservation, even with his celebrity status. But when she wondered why he’d done that, her heart sputtered with excitement.

“Did I get the job?”

He grinned, but merely shrugged again. The way his eyes danced, Chloe guessed she did. Why else would he be taking her there? Without thinking, she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t care that she was at work, couldn’t give a toss how many questions Rachel would badger her with. His arms banded around her waist, and he pulled her closer. Eyes watery, she chanted her thanks against his black shirt.

“Don’t thank me. They hired you because of your talent.” He stroked her back.

She pulled away, released her hold, and gazed up at his sky-blue eyes. Wiping her happy tears away, she shook her head. “If it wasn’t for you, they wouldn’t have given me the time of day. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

His thumb grazed her chin. “Just don’t back out on me, and we’ll call it even.”

She grinned, knowing she’d never back out. What he’d done for her—and not just getting her the interview, but hiring Freda—meant she’d go as a way to make it up to him. But she didn’t want to argue. He was actually taking her to
The Ivy
, and she had her dream job. Everything inside her froze. What was she going to wear?

Sander must have read the panic in her eyes, because he led her over to a table and pulled out a chair. She slid into it in one stiff movement.

“Chloe, what’s wrong?”

But she couldn’t tell him, he’d done enough. She knew the press stalked The Ivy and there was no way she could wear the same dress as the night before. It was payday, but bills came first so buying a dress fit for the restaurant wasn’t an option. She could kick herself for not bringing the dresses back from LA. All but one. Her chest tightened, but she ignored it. It had been a reminder never to be so stupid again. To remind her to hang onto her heart. And now she didn’t have another option. She’d have to wear Dane’s dress.

Forcing a polite smile, she said, “It’s nothing.”

Sander’s penetrating gaze made her wonder if he could see right through her skull. She froze her features into her best stoic expression and hoped he wouldn’t push.

“Bullshit.”

She’d forgotten who she was talking too. Of course he’d push.

“If this is because you have nothing to wear—”

Mortification cracked through her facade. “Sander, I have something to wear.”

Anger leaked into her tone, but anger was good. Anger kept the shame at bay. His eyes set with determination again and she had to stand up to him. He’d given her enough.

“Don’t worry. I have something fit for a catwalk.” She rose from the chair, towered over him. “Do you want me to meet you at the restaurant?”

He rose to tower above her, but not to intimidate. His baffled expression made her want to laugh. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

Chloe nodded. “I need to start work.” Thank God Richard hadn’t made an appearance, or she really would get sacked.

Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers. She stepped closer, but the contact was brief and he straightened just as she would have pounced. Taking a huge step back, she wished again her body didn’t ache with need every time he touched her.

“Any chance of a quick espresso?” he asked.

Chloe smiled and nodded. She stared at him for a minute before turning back to the counter. Every customer and Rachel stared at her with curiosity evident in their expressions. With hot cheeks, she ignored everyone and pulled out a cup for Sander. She had enough to worry about, like figuring out how she was going to get herself into a dress she could barely stomach to look at.

* * * *

Sander sipped at the hot, bitter liquid and watched Chloe work. He really should get to Radio Buzz, but the temptation to spend more time in her company kept him there. Plus, she’d been so embarrassed about the picture in the newspaper and he’d almost fucked the whole thing up by teasing her. Making sure she was okay was more important than preparing for a show he could improvise his way through. Besides, if he ran out of things to say all he had to do was play a few extra songs.

A woman entered the shop carrying a baby bundled in pink on her hip. Chloe’s friend was running up a customer’s bill, so Chloe grabbed a pad and made her way over. She took the woman’s order, but the baby squirmed in her mother’s arms and burst into pained cries that echoed through the shop.

Instead of walking away to get the order like he would have, Chloe crouched down so she was eye level with the little girl with a warm smile and goo-goo eyes. His heart lodged in his throat.

He heard her say, “What’s all the noise about, little one?”

The baby turned to her and mumbled something incoherent while the mother threw Chloe a grateful glance for halting the screaming match. Sander’s chest became rigid, and it got harder to breathe, like a truck going full speed had slammed straight into him.

“May I?” Chloe asked, holding her arms out.

The mother passed the baby to Chloe who swayed her from side to side. The baby giggled and patted a chubby hand against Chloe’s cheek. She nuzzled the baby’s hand with her nose.

Emotion roared through him, but a black despair so strong, so overpowering quashed it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the sight of Chloe with the baby, so natural and happy. Loving even.

What the fuck did it matter? In a week he’d never see her again. Taking a burning gulp to finish his espresso, he rose and headed for the door, unable to meet her gaze if he wanted to. Resolved, he decided to bury the memory in the dark recesses of his mind with all the rest of the shit he didn’t want to think about.

* * * *

Every muscle in her back tensed under his palm as he escorted her into the restaurant. Sander gave his name to the host who then showed them to their table. From the second he’d picked her up and saw her in the red dress which, he acknowledged, was more than fit for any catwalk, his libido had went from non-existent to uncomfortably high. But he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable.

When he’d complimented her appearance, she’d swiftly changed the subject and led him to his car. Wondering whether something had happened to her mother, he’d fielded her with questions on the way but she had assured him everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

The way she self-consciously moved through the restaurant, avoiding the other customer’s appreciative glances made him wonder if it was her beauty making her uncomfortable. Still, she’d been just as beautiful in the blue dress and didn’t seem to mind then.

Once they’d settled into their seats and the man handed them menus, he glanced over to her. Chloe’s face was pearlier than usual and her eyes looked haunted.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

She looked at him then with a smile that he didn’t buy for a second. “Everything’s fine. It’s really beautiful in here.” She slid a finger along the white silk table cover, her gaze dropping from his.

Sander sighed. “I’m not buying it. Something’s bothering you and you’re doing a piss poor job of hiding it.”

“Sander.” Another nervous glance around the room. “You can’t speak like that here.”

“Stop bullshitting me and I won’t need to.”

Her glare made him relax a little. Her eyes morphed to amber liquid and showed no signs of discomfort.

“I…I don’t like wearing this dress.”

He frowned. “Why? You’re absolutely stunning in it.”

Chloe’s gaze dropped to the table, and she played with one of the three forks at the side of her empty plate. “An ex bought it for me.”

Sander appraised the dress again, guessing this ex of hers not only had wealth, but he was the reason for her return to London. That made everything click into place. Her nonchalance about his car, her mother’s warning, and the designer gown she wore.

“When you lived in LA?” he asked. She nodded, but didn’t meet his gaze. “Who is he?” Sander figured he had to be somebody to afford that dress, unless he’d maxed out a few credit cards.

She scowled at him. “Forget about him. I have.”

He cocked a brow. “Sure you have.”

“Need to know only, remember?”

He huffed out a laugh. Chloe’s shoulders sagged and her eyes shone with the pain she’d no doubt suffered. He would have pushed, but he didn’t want to be the one to hurt her by making her remember.

“Hey, c’mon. Let’s order the most expensive dish on the menu and top it off with chocolate cake. You’re celebrating, remember?”

A ghost of a smile curved her lips. “I can’t—”

“On me. Chloe, I asked you out.”

She squirmed in her chair and nodded. He made sure to order the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu, and when her eyes popped open he wondered again why some things about this lifestyle surprised her, and not others. He bit his tongue though, remembering the hurt that shone from her eyes earlier, and steered the conversation toward a safer topic.