Chapter 2

Eliza and her two lunch companions headed through the heavy wooden door of Relâcher into the public courtyard that allowed patrons to easily access the other businesses lining the ground floor of Vivo. Relâcher occupied a primo spot on the west side, between the pizza place called Paulo’s and Java By Brydie, and as a plus, home was never more than a short elevator ride away.

“Butterfly Palace…?” Eliza trailed off since neither Carolina nor Lilith were paying a bit of attention to her. They were too busy craning their necks to see why a throng of people had congregated at the south end of the courtyard near the sole bench seat, which was completely hidden by bodies. “What’s going on over there?”

“Santa Claus has come to town early,” Carolina shot back sarcastically and shrugged. “I can’t see. Too many people in the way. Don’t they know I’m vertically challenged?”

“Please. You’re scarcely a half a head shorter than me,” Lilith scoffed, which wasn’t a fair barometer, since Eliza’s partner in crime wore heels round the clock. “Besides, I can’t see what’s going on either. One way to find out.”

Instead of heading toward Butterfly Palace, where they might have a shot at getting something to eat, the lunch party drifted toward the crowd, also known as the last place Eliza wanted to be. She didn’t mind crowds, but she did not enjoy chaos, and that mob of people had trouble written all over it.

Carolina and Lilith had latched onto the mystery though, food completely forgotten as the ladies elbowed their way straight into the middle of the crush, dragging Eliza along for the ride. How Lilith didn’t get a stiletto stuck in the grass was a mystery.

“Oh, my gosh,” Lilith stage whispered as her gaze lit on the dark-haired man wearing sunglasses who seemed to be the focus of the crowd’s attention. “That’s Joaquin Cortez. What’s he doing here?”

“Who’s Joaquin Cortez?” Eliza was fairly certain Lilith was about to tell her she needed to crawl out from under whatever rock she’d been living beneath and/or get out more.

Surely this man was a celebrity. He had that polish about him that said he couldn’t get dressed without the help of a stylist, a six-figure wardrobe, and four assistants. The arrogant tilt of his head raked across her last nerve too, as if he’d been on premises for less than five minutes but had already decided to look down his nose at the humble folks of Vivo.

“That’s only the hottest actor on the planet.” Carolina jerked her head at the man in question, who had just gone way down in Eliza’s estimation. And he’d already been pretty low. “If you like his brand of plotless thrillers, stuffed to the gills with improbable stunts. Oh, look, there’s Hugo.”

Carolina pointed at her new buddy, the owner of Vivo, who was adorably British, and the only person Eliza had ever met who hadn’t let the obscene amount of money in his bank account turn him into a jerk. Her friend waved Hugo over, clearly not worried about whether there was a certain protocol that should be followed when trying to get the attention of a billionaire.

Hugo didn’t seem too concerned about any perceived breach and brightened as he caught sight of Carolina. He beelined it over to their little group, easily cutting through a knot of cameramen who seemed to be utterly failing at creating a clear perimeter to set up their expensive equipment.

“Isn’t it brilliant?” he said in his cute accent that made Eliza feel like she was watching a delightful new episode of something or other on BBC. “Joaquin’s production company agreed to film some scenes for their movie here. The publicity will be smashing.”

“Lilith already did that,” Eliza reminded him with a flat-lipped smile. “And it was smashing. She increased the revenue of Relâcher by like double toward the end of Bride at First Sight’s season.”

“Makes my little show look like amateur hour,” Lilith murmured, but she didn’t seem upset about it. “We can always use more publicity.”

Sure, but that wasn’t the point, and gee, was that all Eliza got for her loyalty? See if she opened her mouth again.

“All of these people are part of the production company?” Carolina asked, her mouth hanging open slightly. “Put me in the amateur hour camp alongside Lilith, then. I have a production company of one.”

“Because you don’t need a bunch of people’s help to be glorious,” Eliza insisted, because that one was worth opening her mouth for again. “Unlike some others I could mention.”

Inexplicably, Mr. Movie Star’s head swiveled in her direction, as if he’d heard her over the commotion. With two fingers, he levered up his sunglasses, setting them on his perfectly-coiffed dark hair and that’s when his gaze locked on hers.

A strange sense of awareness blanketed her instantly. It practically coated her skin, winnowing through her pores to wake up all of her nerve endings, and she’d like to chalk it up to the sheer beauty of his face—which was arresting—but it was more than that. It was as if he’d crawled inside her to take up residence with nothing more than a glance.

The long exchange should feel creepier than it did.

She shivered and blinked, glancing away with more difficulty than she’d like. He was pretty. So what? He was also clearly arrogant, staring at a woman he’d never met like that, as if he knew secrets about her that even she herself had not yet learned.

Then he threw a very large, very solid monkey wrench into the works by waltzing over to their little group, completely cutting off the beleaguered assistant-type who’d been speaking to him. Rude. The list of his sins was growing by leaps and bounds.

“Hugo, introduce me to your friends,” he instructed in a perfume-commercial voice, soaked in sensuality with a side of wicked. “After all, I’m going to be around for a while.”

Eliza narrowed her gaze. If that was true, then she might be making herself scarce.

And then he winked at her. Winked. At her.

Hugo introduced Carolina first. Mr. Movie Star shook her hand with a pleasant smile, and did the same when Hugo indicated Lilith, almost as if he’d learned how to behave in civilized company in the space of seconds.

All of that unraveled when he got to Eliza. His gaze slid over her as he lifted her hand into his, despite her not being quite sure she’d intended to offer it. Their palms nested together with shocking intimacy and she drowned in a sea of sensation that shouldn’t be so vivid given the fact they were in public.

She flushed. Desperately, she cast about for a way to stop the tide of too much Joaquin Cortez in her system, and then he said her name. Eliza. The same name she’d been using since birth, but from his lips, it sounded exotic and mysterious.

No wonder people paid him lots of money to be in their movies. Women probably fell all over themselves to buy tickets to his films, strictly to hear his voice in the dark.

Not her though. She yanked her hand from his—and finally, blessed relief from his stranglehold on her senses.

“Nice to meet you.” She hoped she wouldn’t be struck by lightning for the lie.

There was nothing nice about this man. That much was clear. And it had also become painfully obvious why she preferred the safe, slightly reverent feelings she had for her online love. Quinoa never made her feel like she needed to claw her skin off to have room to breathe.

Hugo was talking again. Mr. Movie Star’s gaze trailed back to Eliza openly as Hugo rambled on about how great it was to have the production company on site. The nerve. Watching her while someone else talked was almost as rude as walking away from the assistant-type a moment ago.

She almost opened her mouth to tell him off when she caught the tail end of what Hugo had been saying.

“…longtime friends so I hope I can count on you ladies to show Joaquin around.” Hugo beamed at Carolina and Lilith who were nodding with genuine smiles. “I have to fly to London unexpectedly, which is unfortunate timing to say the least.”

Great. Eliza nearly groaned. Hugo and Mr. Movie Star were friends. The production company’s presence here made a terrible sort of sense now. Vivo was an amazing place to live, and Eliza loved it, but it did not have the Hollywood flair that someone like Joaquin Cortez must be used to.

“You should come to lunch with us,” Lilith suggested brightly and somehow managed to step out of the way when Eliza elbowed her. “We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we?”

Carolina, who had just been added to the persona non-grata list alongside Lilith, nodded eagerly. “Sure. I’d be happy to help hold off the throngs of admirers that you’re bound to attract.”

Joaquin laughed which, of course, came out as richly as his voice. Did he practice that in the shower so he could deliver the exact right cadence to settle warmly in a woman’s insides?

“It’s a date,” he said and winked at Carolina.

So that was his thing. He went around charming every woman he came across.

Maybe she could plead a headache or something and escape this madness that had just befallen her.

But then Hugo slapped a nice layer of crazy on top of the entire encounter. “Oh, I nearly forgot. The production assistant mentioned that their stylist had been unfortunately delayed in Los Angeles. I recommended you as a fill in, Eliza. See Ramona when you get a chance if you’re available to help out.”

Hugo waved and took off. Joaquin’s eyebrows rose a fraction as he glanced down his nose at Eliza. “You’re the brilliant stylist Hugo mentioned?”

“What, do I not look like I can do hair?” Eliza shot back before she could check her ire.

But come on. Mr. Movie Star did not get to malign her skills just because half the world slavered over him.

“No offense intended,” Joaquin said. Smoothly. The way people do when that’s exactly what they’d intended but expected the phrase to act as their get-out-of-jail-free card. “I was picturing someone older with a few more years of experience.”

“I have plenty of experience, not to mention education,” she snapped as the implications dug into her stomach. He was saying she didn’t have the chops. “Not that I expected anything less from a Hollywood type, but here’s some news for you. Appearances don’t matter. It’s only what’s on the inside that counts. And you have yet to discover what amazing things I have to offer.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across his too chiseled jaw. “Well played. You have the job.”

Eliza squeezed her eyes shut. What had she just done? Argued her way into a position that she shouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole?

“And Eliza?” He speared her with a gaze that electrified her entire body in much the same way the dentist did when he hit a nerve with his pointy little metal poker. “There’s more to me than meets the eye as well. I have a feeling I’ll be reminding you of your adamant position on that soon. I have a couple of things to wrap up. Where should I meet you ladies for lunch?”

“Butterfly Palace.” Carolina pointed toward the entrance across the courtyard. “We’ll hold a table for you.”

And then she and Lilith dragged Eliza away from the showdown that should be happening right now and wasn’t because Joaquin Cortez had forgotten she existed. No less than three people leaped into his orbit, all clearly taking notes on his majesty’s wishes as he rattled them off.

The nerve.

“Did you just get a job on an actual movie set?” Lilith stage whispered, clearly enthralled with the idea, and if her partner had any sort of skill with hair instead of esthetics, Eliza would offer to switch places. The spotlight was not her favorite place.

“I don’t know, I guess.” It wasn’t like she could back down. If she didn’t show up, Mr. Movie Star would probably tell everyone she was scared or something. “It’s not my dream job or anything.”

It would give her a handy excuse to avoid spending so much time around Lilith, whom she loved, but sometimes it became painful to be reminded day in and day out of her friend’s impending wedding to the man of her dreams. She had a feeling the out was the only plus to working with Joaquin Cortez.

Maybe she could just ignore the whole thing and pretend it had never happened.

A pretty redhead bounced over and stuck out her hand. “I’m Ramona. You must be our new stylist.”