I saw the desire in her eyes, and wished she had been with me in Paris; none of that embarrassing nonsense would have gone down if she’d been with me. “Are you seriously considering it?”

She nodded and then her shoulders slumped. “I think I’d be real good at it. But it doesn’t matter what I want. There are courses I’d have to take and Mike told me about this four-week certification program that a friend of his runs. Problem is, I don’t have the money or the time. And the last thing I want is for Mike to view me as a career clinger.”

I’d sell the bar before I’d let her give up hope. We’d been to hell and back and I’d give anything to see her happy again. I dug out my phone and called Mike. He answered on the third ring.

Marie was still glaring at me when I hung up. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

I tried to defuse her with the same admonishing glare. “You want to get out of Seaport or not?”

“Yes, but you just tossed that on him. Of course he wouldn’t say no. He’s going to think I’m a whack job.”

Her mouth snapped shut when I smiled at her. “He was very enthusiastic so quit worrying.” I texted Ryan, telling him Pete was in the hospital. “Besides, the man nailed you for six hours straight. I’m pretty sure that allows you to ask a favor or two.”

“That was just sex,” she muttered. “I’m not reading anything into it.”

“I don’t think so. He’s smitten.”

She twisted her lips at my word. “I’ve had guys smitten before. It never lasts. Once they get into your pants it’s just a matter of time until the novelty wears off. I’m actually surprised it hasn’t happened already. He’ll sleep with some other girls soon and then I’ll be a distant memory, so I’m not getting my hopes up.”

I frowned at her doubt but I totally knew how she felt.

“And what happens when Ryan doesn’t need him anymore? He’ll have to find other clients. He can’t drag his girlfriend around in a suitcase . . . well, unless he buys one of those inflatable ones, although I highly doubt he’d ever go plastic.”

I chuckled. “He is a damn good-looking man.”

“That he is. Looks even better naked.” She grinned.

“Is he being weird or anything since? You seem happy, so I guess he hasn’t turned into a flaming asshole yet.”

“No.” She laughed modestly. “He’s been super-sweet. Almost too good to be true sometimes.”

“He calls you all the time.”

She was glowing with that look of dreamy love. “I know.”

I read Ryan’s reply, asking me to fill him in once I knew Pete’s condition. “Then quit your worrying.”

She huffed. “But then you’ll be strapped.”

“I won’t be strapped. It will all work out.”

I practically jumped out of my seat when Tammy came through the double doors. Her face was ashen and worried. “Is he?” I started, not sure of what to ask. I handed a tissue to her.

Her hand shook when she pushed her hair behind her ear. “He’s awake but he’s banged up pretty bad.

He just had an MRI and now they’re taking him for X-rays. He’s got a big lump on his forehead. His left arm is definitely broken and his knee and ankle are all swollen. The doctor wants to make sure that he doesn’t have any internal bleeding or swelling since he hit his head. They said he was unconscious for a bit on the job site.”

I wrapped my arm around her back, guiding her to sit down for a moment. “What happened?”

Tammy wiped the corners of her eyes. “Apparently he was carrying a pack of shingles and slipped. He fell like eight feet.”

Marie grabbed the box of tissues that was on the table in the waiting room and took the seat next to her. “He’ll be all right. He’s tough.”

It took about an hour, but I was relieved when we were finally able to visit with him. I almost wanted to cry seeing him bandaged up with a big white cast on his arm. Pete gave me a weak smile, as if he were embarrassed. I slipped my hand into his and he squeezed my fingers while I tried not to think about how bad this day could have been.

The large purple lump on his forehead and a few cuts near his eye were frightening reminders of how things could have turned from broken bones to tragedy.

Chapter 16

Limelight

I climbed into the large, black Suburban that had been dispatched to take us to the MTV Movie Awards; I was holding the edge of my thigh-revealing dress so I wouldn’t accidently flash my undies. Thoughts of my friends, of Pete’s slow recovery and that I wasn’t there to help, were with me even though my friends were thousands of miles away on the other side of the States.

I sat quickly in the single seat, ridding myself of my stilettos to make the climb into the bench back seat easier, tamping down the budding nervousness growing from the anticipation. Ryan climbed in behind me, looking devastatingly gorgeous. He was wearing fitted black jeans, a black V-neck tee, a gray blazer, and his game face. The scent of his cologne was enough to make me want to strip him bare and nuzzle his neck for a few hours.

He leered over at me, smirking with those wet lips that knew my secrets, reminding me that all of this celebrity ass-kissing, management team ordering, fan-pleasing hoopla came with the game.

“What?” His question came out as a low, hungry purr.

All I could do was smile and keep the overwhelming craziness in perspective. Nuzzling his nakedness would come later. I bit my bottom lip, thinking about rolling my tongue over all of his secret spots. My mouth was actually watering from thinking about it. His eyes darkened. “I like the way your mind works.

Can you hold that thought for a few hours?”

Mike cleared his throat and by his private little chuckle I could tell we weren’t discreet enough.

David sat in front of me, playing with his Rolex again, going over the details of our evening. Trish sat in the single seat in front of Ryan, reviewing some papers and then giving Ryan the rundown of what was expected at our arrival.

I could tell by his concerned look that he was more worried about me than another public appearance.

Leaning his head toward me, he softly asked, “You okay?”

My mind initially screamed “hell no” after seeing the huge crowds gathered. Instead I nodded sharply, giving him my most assured smile. “Oh sure. This is old hat,” I joked. I felt the warmth of his hand when his fingers laced with mine.

Ryan gave me a tug and a trademark smart-ass smirk, finding the humor in my response. “Old hat.

Cocky. Love it.”

That still didn’t ease the stranglehold of nervous excitement twisting my stomach as we slowed in the line of cars depositing other celebrity attendees. Mike, David, and Trish exited the car first and closed the doors. Ryan and I slid to the middle seats by the doors, where I put my shoes back on, waiting for our cue to exit. Mike would not let us get out until our other security escort was present and he’d had an opportunity to do a scan of the scene. I knew the drill: stay in formation, keep moving. Mike was always positioned behind Ryan on his right side.

Ryan was agitated by the sheer number of people milling about. “I’m not talking to any press.” He growled a low reminder at Trish when Mike opened his door.

No sooner did his toe hit the ground than people started screaming and yelling for his attention. It was so comforting when he turned back to take me by the hand; I knew we were going in as a team.

“We’re to the left for press photos,” Trish advised, steering us toward a huge wall with the MTV logo and year printed in a repeat pattern.

I wanted to let go of his hand so I wouldn’t have to pose for pictures. This wasn’t about me being here; I had come to terms with that. This was all about the celebrity making an appearance that drove the frenzied crowd to near madness. Ryan faltered a bit, unsure at first of what was expected of him. There was always someone instructing, guiding, telling him to go there, stand here, head in that direction. No matter how many times he’d done this before, I could see through the façade that he was nervous.