he gave me the green-light to pursue him.”
“I feel kinda bad for Vinnie,” I admit. “After he got off the phone with Nico, he told me to cancel the rest of his afternoon and slammed his door.”
“So, why did he let him go?”
“All of the bad press. Plus, his movies haven’t done well at the box office in years.”
“The scripts for those movies weren’t very good,” she says. “He can turn his career around with the right project.”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. None of the studios will work with him.”
She leans forward, resting her elbow on the table. “If I approach him, what am I getting myself into? How bad is he?”
“You’ll have to repair his relationships with the studios. Do you remember when he cut his thigh while he was filming a scene in Off Road?” She nods, and I continue, “The studio made Nico take a drug test. The results came back negative for drugs but positive for alcohol. He’s a mess. Every time I’ve gone to his house, he was drunk. No one can get through to him.”
“What do you think? Is Nico worth the time?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Vinnie’s been trying to get Nico another movie for close to a year.”
“If I could help him get back on track,” she says, her tone hopeful, “I could become a legit agent. I could have my own client list instead of following Burke around like his lapdog.”
“He could also ruin your career.”
Willow glances at the cars passing by as she drinks her latte. People are bustling past us on the sidewalk, the city humming with life.
“Maybe I should approach Nico first and see what he’s like.”
“I have a favor to ask.”
She shoves her dark hair behind her ears. “Name it.”
“I need an agent.”
Willow grins so wide it reaches up to her eyes. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’ve been working some nights at Date Crashers.”
“With their Crashers, right?”
“Yeah, I help Sloan teach the new Crashers how to break up dates. But last week, I had this idea for a movie…”
“About Date Crashers?”
“I don’t know what happened,” I confess. “I pitched the idea to Sloan and Dylan, and then I couldn’t stop writing. I wrote the first draft in one weekend.”
“What’s the screenplay called?”
“Date Crashers. It’s loosely based on how Sloan and Dylan started the company, but it’s a romantic comedy with parallel storylines that cover both Dylan and Sloan’s real-life romances.”
“Is there any date crashing in the movie?”
“That’s how the fictional version of Sloan meets his girlfriend.”
Her face illuminates from the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “We could totally sell that to a studio.”
“You think?”
She bobs her head. “Yeah, for sure. Date Crashers is so hot right now, especially with the new dating app Dylan created.”
“I’m proud of him. He put his foot down with Sloan and refused to work with Exact Match, and now look at how well they’re doing.”
“You look happy,” she says.
I can’t help but smile. “I am.”
She takes one last sip of her coffee and rises to her feet, grabbing her bag from the ground. “I have to get back to the office. I wish I could stay and chat, but Burke wants to talk about our new acquisitions.”
I wrap my arms around her. “Let me know how you make out with Nico.”
Willow hugs me back. “Wish me luck.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ash
Six months later…
Dylan threads his fingers between mine, leading me toward the water. Now that our living situation is permanent, we end our nights on the beach without having to sneak around. It feels nice to be with Dylan and not have to hide our relationship.
Sloan has adjusted over the past few months. The first few were a bit rocky, especially when Sloan would catch us kissing or making out. Now, he groans and walks away. I don’t think Sloan will ever get used to seeing his best friend kissing his sister, but he’s accepting it.
We stop at the edge of the water, feeling the wet sand between our toes. Dylan grips my shoulder and turns me until we’re facing. He curls his finger around a loose strand of my hair and then pushes it behind my ear.
“You’re beautiful, Ash.”
“You’re pretty hot for a nerd,” I joke.
He laughs, and surprisingly, he lowers to one knee in front of me, ignoring the water hitting his thigh. My throat feels as if it’s about to close up as he reaches into his pocket and produces a blue box. He flips open