Here All Along (2 page)

He answered with a series of incomprehensible mumbles.

“I don’t care.” She found the remote for the blinds, and a few seconds later, sunlight streamed into the room. “You need to get up and get dressed.”

“You’re evil.” He grabbed a stray pillow and pulled it over his head.

“No, I’m just your assistant.” She wrestled the pillow away from him. “Now get in the shower and wash the booze away.”

He didn’t move, and for a moment, she wondered if he’d fallen back asleep. Then, out of nowhere, a hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her into the bed. A pair of well-muscled arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer to a hard body that had women around the world swooning. If it had been any other man, she would’ve responded with an elbow jab under his ribs, followed by a punch to the groin.

But this was Gideon.

He nuzzled the back of her neck. “How are you doing, Red?”

She didn’t trust her tongue to give him her usual no-nonsense response. The heat from his bare chest penetrated the thin cotton of her shirt and warmed her back. She closed her eyes and indulged in the experience like it was a hot stone massage. “You know this could be considered sexual harassment.”

“Maybe, but only if you considered this to be sexual or harassment.”

Oh, if you only knew…

The first time she met him, they had to shoot a scene in bed together like this. What had started out as awkward had turned into a running joke. Back then, they were forced to lie in each other’s arms like lovers. Over the years, she’d spent hours lying beside her best friend, unburdening her soul and finding reasons to smile again.

Now, however, despite the teasing, there was a palpable tension in the air. Nine months ago, he’d asked her if they could be more than friends, and something shifted in their relationship. Even though she’d told him no, even though she’d listed all the reasons why it would never work between them, even though she’d explained that she didn’t want to ruin their friendship, some reckless and rebellious part of her wanted the same thing.

She managed to laugh it off and pry his arms away. “As much as I’d like to pretend this was a lazy Sunday, you have prior commitments.”

He gave her a sleepy smile that managed to be sexy at the same time. “I’m willing to play hooky if you are.”

“Not a chance, Kid. Your career depends on you wowing that reporter from
Pomp and Celebrity
.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He wrapped the sheet around his waist and stood. “If I mess this up, I’ll never work in this town again.”

He stumbled toward the bathroom, but the thin sheet did little to conceal the finely sculpted ass underneath. Sarah bit her lip and enjoyed the view until he closed the door behind him, all too aware of the fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

Damn, I’m in trouble
.

All the more reason to focus on finding a new line of employment before I royally screw things up. Starting with today
.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom, and Sarah found the garment bag she’d stowed in Gideon’s closet two days ago. Just as she’d suspected, he never even noticed it. She laid it out on the bed and started packing his suitcases for the Vegas trip. He’d be there for at least three weeks shooting his next film, so she made sure he had enough clothes packed to cover any situation he might find himself in.

Workout clothes? Check.

A couple of suits for dinner? Check.

Casual clothes to wear during his downtime? Check.

Tux? He could rent that.

By the time she got to the socks and underwear, the shower had gone silent. The bathroom door opened with a billow of steam, and Gideon emerged looking like a fantasy brought to life. The man oozed sex, even when he wasn’t trying to be sexy. A towel hung loosely around his hips, and drops of water still clung to his skin. His dark hair formed messy spikes. Stubble lined his cheeks. In short, he looked better first thing in the morning than most models did in the middle of a photo shoot.

He ambled toward the bed with easy grace and pointed to the outfit she’d laid out for him. “That for me?”

“No, it’s for Gabe Harrison,” she replied, referring to Gideon’s co-star in the film he’d be shooting in Vegas. She stuck her tongue out at him and tossed him a pair of underwear. “Just hurry up and get dressed.”

“Fine.” His exaggerated groan made her chuckle, but it was her cue to step out so he could get dressed. After years of being his assistant, she’d seen him practically naked enough times on a set to know he was well equipped where it counted, but when they were alone in his home, he still maintained a thin veneer of modesty. Not because he wanted to—because he didn’t want to do anything that made her uncomfortable. And since she’d declined his offer to be more than friends on Halloween, he’d become even more conscious about covering up in her presence.

She left his bedroom and discovered, much to her delight, that Gideon’s bodyguards had cleared out the leftover party guests while she’d been in the bedroom.

Raul waved for her to join him in the kitchen. “I don’t know what’s more trashed—the house or that last chick we called a cab for. She couldn’t even give the driver her address.”

“Then where did you send her?”

“To the address that was on her driver’s license.” He took a sip of water. “She kept saying that she’d sober up faster if she could just purge the alcohol from her system. I made sure we got her out before she demonstrated her technique.”

“This town is all sorts of messed up,” Jason, the other bodyguard, added.

“Well, this isn’t Nebraska, farm boy.” Raul tossed him a bottle of water. “So, what’s on the agenda today, boss lady?”

Sarah pulled out her phone and reviewed Gideon’s schedule, even though she had it memorized. “I’ll drive him to the interview and photo shoot at the hotel. Then we’ll swing over to LAX for the flight to Vegas at three.”

“So we’re off until then?” Raul gave Jason a high five. “I can live with that.”

“Just make sure you’re at the airport before we arrive.”

“Got it.” Jason scribbled something down on his palm with a pen. “And then what?”

“He has dinner reservations at seven at the Old Homestead, but I’ve been assured that Gideon will be allowed to dine in peace there, so you’ll have the night off.”

“Even better.” Now it was Jason’s turn to give Raul a high five. “And tomorrow?”

She swiped over to tomorrow’s schedule. “He has to be on the set at seven. In all honesty, it should be a low-profile shoot. Most of the scenes will either be in rented homes or a sound stage, so I’m not expecting to need you much.”

“But we’ll be there when you need us, boss lady.” Raul jerked his head toward the garage. “Let’s get the car ready.”

She knew from hanging out with the two bodyguards that they would go beyond getting the car ready. These men were more than just hired muscle, and they took their job seriously. They were scoping out locations, checking their weapons, scanning the Internet to make sure some crazy stalker fan wouldn’t be waiting for Gideon somewhere.

Her phone buzzed, and she checked the message.

Come here for a minute.

She tucked the phone into a clip on her belt and bounded up the stairs. “You need something?”

He was preening in front of the mirror, turning side to side to inspect the rust-colored blazer she’d made for him. “Who’s the designer?”

Her stomach knotted up, and she wiped her hands on her pants as she approached him with slow steps. “Why?”

“I like it. Is it Versace? Ralph Lauren? Calvin Klein? Marc Jacobs?”

Her fear evaporated, and she moved between him and the mirror to smooth out the collar. A smile played on her lips as she said, “Red Sage.”

His mouth fell open, and he tilted her chin up. “You?”

She waved him off and took a step back. “I need to do something with my life other than babysit you.”

“But I never pegged you for a designer.” He took one more look in the mirror. “And yet, once again, you amaze me, Red.”

“At least you caught the reference.”

“How could I not?”

Gideon had called her “Red” since the first day they’d met and she’d informed him that she was really a redhead as a way to break the ice. Back then, she was known as Sage Holtz and was one of the biggest teen stars in Hollywood. Gideon had been the new kid on the block and had been cast as the boy she’d had a fling with on her television series. They’d had such great chemistry that the writers made him a regular on the show.

Of course, that was right before everything went to hell.

He moved toward the door. “So, am I packed for Vegas?”

“Yes.” She grabbed his suitcases and rolled them out of the room. Jason or Raul would bring them downstairs later, but they preferred to stay out of Gideon’s bedroom unless it was an absolute emergency.

“Any more Red Sage designs in there?”

There was a teasing note to his question, but it still stopped her in her tracks. “If they make you uncomfortable—”

“Calm down, Red. I was just asking because I like what I’ve seen so far.”

“So you’re not upset that I dressed you in one of my own designs for the interview?”

“Are you kidding?” He grinned and took her hand in his own. “And knowing you made it for me makes it even more special. Just one thing.”

His praise made her knees go lax, but it was the pressure from his hand that turned the moment into some sentimental mush. Not that she minded—too much. “What’s that?”

“Be ready for a slew of orders once that story hits the newsstands.” He winked and let go of her hand. “Wait a minute. On second thought, maybe I should wear something else. I don’t want to lose the best assistant in the world to the fashion industry.”

She laughed and pushed him forward. “Well, this assistant will be out of a job if she doesn’t get you to the interview on time, so move it, Kid.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The smile lingered on her lips far longer than normal. She’d taken a risk revealing what she’d been working on, and thankfully, it hadn’t blown up in her face.

So far, so good. Operation Independence was under way.

***

Gideon drummed his fingers along the car door while Sarah wove through traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard. They would arrive to meet with the reporter and photographer at the Beverly Wilshire in plenty of time, but she always insisted on being at least five minutes early. Unlike most people in LA, she’d never grasped the concept of being fashionably late.

Unless, of course, he counted the period during her meltdown. Then, it wasn’t uncommon for her to be two to three hours late if she even showed up at all.

The silence was getting to him, though. “Any idea what she’s going to ask?”

“I’m your assistant, not your PR manager.”

“Puh-lease. You’re the detail-oriented goddess holding my life together.”

That earned him one of her trademark side glares.

“Hey, just trying not to sound like an idiot.”

She flipped her dark red hair over her shoulder. “Then keep your mouth closed.”

It was the same, smart-ass reply she’d given him right before his first Hollywood interview. Just like then, it eased his nerves. “Kind of hard to do when I’m the subject of their story, Red.”

“Then stick to the safe subjects. Your latest film. Your upcoming film. Your brothers, if you feel it’s appropriate.”

“What about the dog I’ve been thinking about getting?”

That earned him an arched brow. “Dog?”

“Yeah. Like Jasper.”

She stiffened her arm and gripped the steering wheel with enough pressure to blanch her knuckles. Every time his mother came to visit, she’d bring the overly friendly Great Pyrenees who loved to tackle Sarah to the ground and cover her with doggie kisses. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. I figured I’d give it a test run next month when Mom goes to Europe for a few weeks. She asked me to dog sit.”

A whimper rose from her throat. “Can I give you my two weeks’ notice now?”

He would’ve laughed at her reaction if her face hadn’t gone pale. “What’s the matter?”

“I could do without the dog slobber.” The cautious edge to her voice, though, told him it was more than just that.

Of course, he liked the idea that Jasper adored Sarah. The dog had shown the same level of affection for his brothers’ wives, and it only confirmed that Sarah was the girl for him. The hard part was convincing her of that.

“Besides, who’s going to take care of the dog while you’re on location?”

“My lovely assistant?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, but her shoulders quivered with silent laughter. “Did you miss the part about me giving my two weeks’ notice?”

“What do I have to do to convince you to stay?”

“No dogs.” She parked the car for the valet outside the Beverly Wilshire.

“Would a pay raise sweeten the deal?”

She drew her shoulders up in a full-body wince, and his mouth went dry. Jesus, she wasn’t serious about the two weeks’ notice, was she?