Red Carpet Kiss - Melissa Brown Page 0,13

“I couldn’t help it. He’s . . . persistent.”

Whitney laughed.

“Don’t laugh at me. Seriously, this is probably a huge mistake. We both know it.”

“You and Luke or you and me?” Whitney pressed.

“You and me. He has no idea. The guy’s done a few pilots and commercials. He hasn’t done anything long-term yet. He has no idea how awkward this will get when the shit hits the fan.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

“Be serious. As soon as fans recognize him on the street, I’m toast.”

“That’s a possibility, I guess. But not a given,” Whitney suggested. “And as usual, you’re selling yourself short.”

“No, I’m just a realist. Stardom affects everyone, just in different ways. And I have no idea how it’ll affect him.” Her fingers grazed over the earrings in her jewelry box, finally stopping on a pair of silver hoops.

“So then why bother? Just put your sweats on and hang out with Linus. Avoid, sabotage, and self-destruct.” Elle hated the tone of Whitney’s voice and the condescension reverberating through it.

“Don’t be an asshole,” she replied, slipping one earring through her ear. Quickly, she transferred the phone to that ear and repeated the process with the second earring.

“Whatever. There’s a reason you’re thirty-five and single. No offense.”

“Hey,” Elle said. “I’m not the only one who’s single in this conversation.”

“Okay, first of all,” Whitney began, “I’m thirty-two.”

“Irrelevant.”

“And secondly, I date, and often. I’m perfectly content with my life.”

“And so am I.”

Silence hung in the air. It was a blatant lie. Elle knew it, and she was fully aware her best friend did too. They’d shared too much for Whitney to play the fool.

Whitney sighed. “C’mon, Eleanor. We both know that’s not true.”

Most people in Los Angeles were not allowed to refer to Elle by her given name, but Whitney was the exception. Even though it graced the covers of her romance novels, since moving to the Los Angeles spotlight, she’d chosen to modernize all aspects of her life, including her name. When Whitney used her true first name, Elle knew she was serious. She’d had enough and needed to make her point, so Elle decided to concede.

“Fine. I understand. I need to loosen up.”

“Thank you. What time are you meeting him?”

Elle glanced down at her watch. “In twenty minutes.”

“Well, shit, I’ll let you go then. Let your hair down, have some fun!”

Elle promised Whitney she’d do her best to enjoy herself. She hung up the phone, placed it on the counter, and pulled the pins from her hair, causing the bun to tumble past her shoulders, her blonde locks forming loose curls that spilled down her back. She took a deep breath and walked back to her closet to finish getting dressed. Then she walked back to the sink, retrieved the pins, and placed them between her teeth. She looked at herself in the mirror, shook her head, and spent five more minutes placing her hair back in a bun.

Luke was already sitting at a small, cozy table at Angelini Osteria when Elle finally arrived, ten minutes later than their reservation. Elle was never late, but Luke Kingston seemed to flip her version of normal on its head. She couldn’t get past her hesitation. She still couldn’t decide if this was all a game to him, a way of making a name for himself in the beginning.

It was easy to say she had trust issues. Since Troy broke her heart ten years earlier, she’d dated . . . sporadically. Whitney had a point when she compared their love lives. The best word to describe Elle’s relationships would be . . . also sporadic. She had dated a few men in Chicago, and a few more since moving to Santa Monica, but none had stuck. Mostly because it was difficult for Elle to separate herself from her show. And to stop sabotaging any chance she had at happiness. When things grew serious with any of the men she’d dated, she found reasons to end each relationship abruptly and without explanation. She couldn’t let go of the past long enough to be happy.

Letting go was hard . . . she hadn’t let go in ten straight years.

When Elle reached the table, Luke, looking all kinds of handsome, set his menu on the table, and rose to meet her. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “You made it.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

He shrugged, giving her a tight, toothless smile. “After our discussion earlier, I thought maybe not.”

“I honor my commitments.”

She didn’t intend to come off

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