head bobbing up and down, someone padding along on a treadmill behind the arm-press machine across from him. For all he knew, it could have been a dude who used expensive hair products.
Only...the air around him changed. The blood whooshed through his veins and he hadn’t even touched a piece of equipment yet. That had to be a woman, a tall one at that.
“And?” Lila prodded him to finish his thought.
“Do twenty-five and then let’s go cycle for a few miles.”
“Okay, Brad.” She winked at him.
Working out with Lila had been a blast, all the while he watched out for the redhead. Despite changing to an elliptical, her face stayed hidden. When he steered his new work-out buddy to the cycles in the cardio area, Red was gone. Yet, his sex drive was now fully revved up and wouldn’t quit.
He showered, changed, and sauntered back to his car. That electric feeling zinged through him again. He spun around and a whiff of lime hit him making his mouth water for a margarita.
Too bad he stopped drinking.
With his gas gauge hovering above E, he trekked up to Beverly Hills. When he arrived in L.A. nine months ago to play a role that should have put him on the map, his agent, Sandra had recommended a new wardrobe.
“We appreciate the gritty New York City look and God-knows it works on you, but this is L.A,” she’d said, dragging him to Rodeo Drive.
His working credit card at the time had only hiccupped when he swiped it to pay the thirty-five-thousand-dollar tab.
With no use for most of the clothes since the movie had bombed and no one wanted to talk to him, he didn’t want any more L.A. glam crap in his closet.
Plus, Grayson was running out of cash since his credit cards had been turned off. Thanks, Luke.
Standing at that posh store’s counter again, he felt like a very different man. And anxious as hell while a woman with the face of an ostrich peered at his receipt.
“After fifteen days, all we give is store credit.”
Since his American Express card got turned off, he was angling to get cash. A store credit wouldn’t do dick for him.
“Can you make an exception?” he asked with his smooth charmer voice. “I kept everything neatly folded in the bags. They’ve all got the tags on them.”
The ostrich puckered full, dry lips at him. She looked like a runway model. Tall, but dangerously thin. Maybe if he offered her a hamburger, although, most models brainwashed themselves into thinking anything over five calories would tack on twenty pounds immediately and never come off.
“And um, I can really use the cash,” he added, trying the desperate route. “The credit card I used for this is turned off.”
He kept Mean New York Guy in check.
“Let me ask my manager,” Ostrich said and sauntered past racks with the most expensive clothes west of the Mississippi.
He turned away from the register and leaned against the glass-top counter, staring out at the promenade of other high-end designer stores. His heart fluttered again seeing glossy red hair skulk by the window, the long ponytail swinging against her back. Grayson’s entire body came alive. He had one foot ready to charge out the door when Ostrich came back.
“Sorry, it’s store credit or nothing.”
Scooping up the bag, he cursed under his breath then said, “Never mind. Have a nice day.”
Outside, that scent of lime lingered again. He looked up and down the promenade, but didn’t see the redhead. Could he have his first stalker? He should have been thrilled anyone wanted to lurk around corners to look at him. That’s how desperate he was.
Exhaling, he hiked to his car and tossed the bag of useless crap in the backseat. When he got in, he caught himself in the rearview mirror again. The voice came back.
Just call Luke. He’ll turn your cards back on and unfreeze your checking account.
It was his own fault for using the joint hotel account back in New York and not bothering to set up his own finances when he arrived in L.A. But it’d all happened so fast. The shooting schedule took off, next were fittings, photoshoots, and of course, the parties. He’d felt on top of the world.
Then he slipped off the edge. Crash-landed onto the pavement after the movie bombed.
Now, he had to do what a lot of other fallen angels in that city often found themselves reduced to. Gray fired up the Aston Martin’s engine and tamped down a