Starlet: A Dark Retelling - Cora Kenborn Page 0,67
a soft chuckle. “What’s his name?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The guy who’s got you so twisted up.”
I blush and stare into my wine glass. “That obvious, huh?”
Grinning, he tips his wine glass toward me. “Doll, if you pined over him any harder, his name would be etched across your forehead.”
So much for being subtle. Groaning, I slump forward. “I’m sorry. I’m being a horrible date. Can we start over? I promise—”
His wine glass clinks onto the table. “Can we be completely honest with each other?” Noah’s voice takes on a serious note, and I immediately sit up. He’s no longer smiling. “I promise, you can trust me.”
“Sure.”
“You’re a really nice person, but I don’t think either of us are here because we want to be. Rosten yanked our strings, and we danced like marionettes.” He punctuates the image by moving his arms up and down like they’re bound by wire. “Am I right?”
I nod, letting out a sigh of relief.
“We both have someone else on our minds, so how about we call this what it is—two friends sharing a meal on a jackass’s dime.”
God, I could kiss him right now. “I’m good with that.”
With the tension gone, he lifts his wine glass again, his eyes crinkling as he takes a sip. “So, are you going to tell me his name?”
“Dominic.”
“Lucky guy.”
“What about you?” I ask, raising my own glass to my lips. “What’s her name?”
“Brent.”
Chardonnay shoots out of my mouth like a fortified geyser. Noah calmly dabs his suit with his linen napkin as if he didn’t just drop a nuclear bomb on me. “You’re gay?” I whisper, mouthing the word.
“Yes,” he mouths back. “There’s a secret club of us. I’d show you the handshake, but I’d have to kill you.”
Okay, I deserved that.
“But you’re Noah Braddock.”
“And?”
“America’s Heartthrob. Every woman’s fantasy. The oceans would rise with the salt of their tears if they knew.”
He rolls his eyes. “That’s a little dramatic. Do you write greeting cards?”
“I’m serious!” I hiss, smacking him with my napkin.
He laughs, dodging my second swat. “I am too. And what you just said? That’s exactly why I keep it quiet.” His smile fades. “You think I’d get a quarter of the roles I do if they knew I wasn’t straight? I’d be saddled with the gay best friend gig for the rest of my life. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I don’t have range.”
And just because I’m not Alexandra Romanov doesn’t mean I don’t have talent. We all have crosses to bear. Noah Braddock is more than a pretty face, and I’m an asshole.
“You’re right.” I cover his hand with mine. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you and Brent.”
He watches me silently for a moment. “Somehow I think you do.”
More than you know.
Smiling, I raise my glass. “To hiding.”
Meeting my glass, he clinks them together. “Touché.” For a brief moment everything is calm. But then it all goes to hell. “Shit,” Noah says, glancing over my shoulder.
“What?”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t look now, but I think a photog snuck in.”
Of course, I look, and when I do my heart somersaults in my chest then free falls straight out my vagina. “Oh my God.”
Dominic.
How the hell did he find me? Not only that, how the hell did he get in here?
I shove my chair away from the table, knocking over crystal and rattling silverware. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
I don’t wait for a response before tearing across the restaurant in a blind panic. I realize on my second wrong turn I have no idea where I’m going. By the time I stop, it’s only because I come to a dead end in a hallway that leads to nowhere.
“Great. Now what?” Trapped in a corner isn’t ideal, especially when distant footsteps start getting closer.
And closer.
Frantic, I start turning door knobs to what I assume are supply closets, praying one of them works. “Come on!”
Finally, one turns, and just as I get it open, I’m pushed inside and shoved against the wall. Even in the dark, I don’t have to ask who it is.
“What are you doing here, Dominic?”
His strong hand slides up my neck, pausing as his thumb strokes under my chin and along my jaw. “I came to offer my congratulations to the happy couple.” His words become clipped as his grip tightens. “After all, you’re the talk of the town.”
I can’t breathe with him this close. “You don’t understand.”