Red Carpet Kiss - Melissa Brown Page 0,76

okay, just go home.”

“I don’t give a shit about the table read, Elle! Just leave me the hell alone.”

Gina stormed away and Elle pulled herself together to approach the wreckage. Nolan was half-dressed, seated in a chair with his head in his hands. Whitney, her lipstick smeared, her hair disheveled, was standing behind her desk, her hand covering her mouth. She was just as shocked as Gina, just as betrayed.

“Nolan, will you give us a minute?”

Nolan stood, his tan skin flushed, his dark hair mussed. He looked to Whitney. “I never meant for any of this—”

“Stop.” She put her hand up in front of her, her eyes closed tight. “Just stop. I don’t wanna hear it. Clean yourself up and meet me in the conference room in ten minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nolan had never, not once in the years they’d worked together, called Elle ma’am. If she weren’t so upset for Whitney, she would have chuckled at his sheepish behavior. But her loyalty to Whitney and her sympathy for Gina kept her features cold as stone.

Nolan left the office, closing the door behind him. Elle and Whitney stood in silence for a moment before Elle broke the tension. “You didn’t know they were still together, did you?”

Whitney shook her head.

“Then why the secrecy? You told me it was a one-time thing. Why didn’t you tell me you were sleeping with him?”

“We were keeping it to ourselves. He said he didn’t want to hurt her and being the idiot I am, I believed him. God, I’m so stupid, Elle. So stupid!” Whitney smacked the wall with her palm, turned, and leaned down against her desk.

“You’re not an idiot. You were trying to be sensitive and not make waves.”

“I know, but now it’s a freaking mess. I’m so sorry. I never meant to mess with your show.”

“Don’t worry about that. Nolan has only seven episodes to shoot, and then he’s done. It’ll work itself out.” Elle walked to Whitney, rubbing her back with her hand. “But I’m worried about you. Were you two . . . serious?”

A sardonic laugh left Whitney’s throat as she looked up to the ceiling. “Obviously not.”

“I mean before what happened today. Were you . . . falling for him?”

In their four years of friendship, Elle had never witnessed Whitney have serious feelings about a man. She bounced from man to man without getting attached. But everything about this scenario felt different. The secrecy, the pained look on Whitney’s face, and her reaction to Gina spoke volumes.

“Yes. Can you believe it? I’m such a fool.”

“No, he is. You deserve so much more.”

Elle’s phone pinged with a text from Luke:

Nolan’s here. Gina went home, but not sure why.

“I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to go. It’s the table read.”

“Of course, I get it.” Whitney faked a smile.

“Dinner tonight? Just you and me?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Elle placed a kiss on the top of Whitney’s head. “It’s gonna be okay.”

But deep in the pit of her stomach she knew the repercussions from Gina’s discovery would be just around the corner. It was just a matter of time before they reared their ugly heads.

“Start from the beginning.”

Elle and Whitney were tucked into a quiet corner of a local French bistro, their favorite place to talk over delectable food and cocktails. Sipping martinis and nibbling on a favorite appetizer, black mussels poulette, Whitney was ready to discuss her relationship with Nolan.

“You know it happened once this spring and it was seriously no big deal, but this time it was different. He was pursuing me, like really working at it. So we started seeing each other a few times a week.”

“Mostly in your office?” Elle gritted her teeth as she asked the question. She had no intention of being snarky, but she herself knew of two occasions when they’d been inappropriate in Whitney’s office.

Whitney polished off her martini, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “I’m sure it must seem that way, but there was more to it.”

Elle gestured for the waiter, pointing at Whitney’s empty glass. He nodded and stepped behind the bar to prepare another martini. Elle leaned in. “When did things start up again?”

“A month ago, I think . . . it was right after Mac the bartender.”

“Gotcha. So did he take you out?”

“Not really. We met up at his place and mine, usually. I thought nothing of it—I thought we were just being careful. Gina’s already a pain in the ass, we didn’t want to poke the

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