After a last quick check in the mirror and one last fluff of her hair, she headed toward the front door. She heard the knock as she moved down the hall. Without looking out the peephole, she swung open the door and nearly got knocked in the face with a giant bouquet of roses. She couldn’t even see the man holding them.
Troy had brought her flowers? Her giddiness doubled, but the man turned sideways and Julie’s hopes crashed. Tall, yes, but this guy sported a buzz cut and blue eyes. Not Troy. He wore a Mary’s Flowers T-shirt and had a clipboard stuffed under his armpit.
“Delivery for you,” he said. He looked at her oddly as if he thought he might know her. She got that look often enough. Of course, some die-hard fans always knew who she was, but some people had missed her show and had only seen one or two films, and those were the ones who couldn’t figure out where they’d seen her before. She couldn’t forget the hair. Since she’d gone back to her natural color, people faltered.
“Wow. That is a giant arrangement,” she said, taking the large vase with at least two dozen red and pink roses swimming in baby’s breath and setting it on the mosaic table inside the doorway. That sucker was heavy.
“If you could sign here,” he said, handing over the clipboard. He pointed to a line in the middle of the page and Julie scribbled her name. He took a look when she handed it back and a slow grin curved his lips as his eyes widened. “Julie Fraser,” he said. “Hey, you were great in Dangerous Race. I loved that movie.”
She smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Even my girlfriend liked it and she hates racing.”
Julie nodded again. She’d heard the same thing hundreds of times. “Glad you both enjoyed it.”
He stood there another few seconds smiling and a three-letter word jumped into Julie’s Head. Tip.
She reached for her purse on the entry table and whipped out a five dollar bill. “Here you go. Thank you.” She handed him the cash as Troy pulled up. “Oh, my friend is here. I told him he could pull up since there’s no parking on the street.”
The delivery guy got her message and nodded as he walked backward toward the truck. “Sure. Sorry about that. Nice to meet you,” he said with a farewell wave.
Julie waved back as he pulled out and Troy pulled in.
This incident only proved what an enormous idiot she really was. She’d opened the door without checking. Her sniper with a gun could’ve been waiting for her instead of a deliveryman with flowers. Giant ass flowers. That obviously, once again, were not from Troy. Because he clearly would’ve brought them himself right now.
He got out of a gorgeous black BMW. Apparently bodyguards made good money. “Hey,” he said as he walked closer. Wearing dark jeans, black boots, sunglasses and black T-shirt, he looked more like a biker than a bodyguard. He glanced over his shoulder at the disappearing delivery truck. “Flowers from Ari?” he asked.
She laughed. “I doubt it.” Maybe if she’d put out, but he wasn’t going to woo her with flowers. He was using his movie.
“Did you find the place okay?”
He studied the citronella candle on the wrought iron porch table and nodded. “No problems.” He removed his sunglasses, and his very clear once-over from head to toe sent a thrill of victory through her blood. Her skin tingled as if he’d touched her physically.
Score one for her fashion sense.
“Great.” Her palms got sweaty. She clapped them together once. “Okay then...let me show you the house.” She opened the door wider. “This way.” Duh. God, when was the last time she’d been so nervous around a man? She couldn’t even remember. Come to think of it, she’d never been this nervous around a man. Excited, yes, happy and expectant, yes, but not this palm sweat/parched mouth nervous.
Troy followed her into the house and stopped in the foyer. “Nice place,” he said, taking a slow look around. He absorbed everything. She could see his mind working as he scanned the open floor plan. The entry opened up into one of two great rooms. This more formal space had a ten-seat, marble-and-glass topped dining room table off to the left. Along the right wall, a white low-back thick-cushioned sofa and chairs sat around another glass-and-marble coffee table. She loved the talks and parties she’d had