Over Exposed (29 page)

“Hey, Jared. I want to show Sabrina the Salon and I know she needs to sign a waiver. Yes, I know that. No. No. Yes.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Now, you're just being a dick.”

Sabrina heard Jared's laughter come through the phone though she couldn't hear his side of the conversation.

“Fine. Yeah, I know where you keep them. I'll leave it on your desk. Thanks. Love you. Give Annabelle a hug for me. What?” She laughed. “No, you're a perv. Gotta go. Bye.”

Kate jumped up off the couch, grabbed Sabrina's hand, and tugged her toward the door. “Come on. I've got something to show you.”

*  *

“Hey, Uncle Greg, why do you look like you're gonna eat somebody?”

Greg cracked an eye and found his four-year-old nephew, Adam, standing beside the sofa where he'd sprawled just minutes ago.

Dressed in
Toy Story
pajamas that Santa had brought him just this morning, Adam looked so much like his brother-in-law, it was hard to believe there was any Hicks in the kid at all. Until you noticed the hair his sister hadn't cut in weeks. More waves than the Pacific.

The kid was gonna be a heartbreaker in a few years. His mom, Greg's sister Sam, had already told Greg he had to wait until Adam knew exactly what he was getting into before she allowed him to be in one of Greg's movies.

“Maybe because your mom's cooking just makes me hungry for real food.”

Sam was vegan. Enough said there. Luckily, their mom took pity on Greg and had brought one of her amazing prime ribs to Christmas dinner.

Adam's little face screwed up in a frown and then he leaned in close. “Even the dogs don't like it.”

Greg burst out laughing, grabbing his nephew and pulling him in for a hug and a tickle until his brother-in-law came to take him away to bed.

“I have no idea what you two are conspiring about,” Art said, “but it's time for bed, little man. Kiss your Uncle Greg goodnight.”

Greg gave the little ball of energy to his dad with reluctance. He felt like every time he saw the kids, he'd missed years. Which wasn't true, but still . . .

His sister walked in, having just said good-bye to their parents. The three of them had been exchanging “the look” all night. And he could see from his sister's expression that they'd all come to the same conclusion: Greg needed to talk. And since it was true and, since Sam was the one person he trusted absolutely, he guessed that was why Art hadn't come back downstairs.

“So.” Sam sat next to him on the couch. “Spill it. What's got you looking like you want to crack some heads?”

“Besides the fact that even the dogs won't eat your cooking?”

Her eyebrows barely even lifted at his dig. “I'll have you know they love my cooking. Adam feeds them enough of it. Come on, Greg. What's up?”

Leaning his head back against the cushion, he stared at the Christmas tree in the corner, all colorful lights and mismatched ornaments. Just like his parents' tree at their house. He couldn't remember the last time he'd put up a tree in his house in L.A.

He wondered if Sabrina would want to put up a tree.

“So I met this girl.”

Sam's eyes widened until he thought she might hurt herself. With a little grin, she stared at him. “Wow. Seriously. This is about a girl? Who is she?”

He saw no trace of snark on his sister's beautiful face. She was two years older than him, but looked ten years younger. They shared the same nose, though Sam's was much more delicate, the same eyes, the same chin, and if he let his hair get any longer, they'd have the same hair. He made a mental note to get a trim.

“She works at Haven. We've been seeing each other for a couple months and she's thirteen years younger.”

Sam's mouth opened. Closed. Frowned and opened again. “You've been seeing her for a couple months? While you've been filming? Damn, that's, like . . . well, damn. Must be true love.”

“You're seriously not going to say anything about her age?”

His sister held up a hand and waved it in his face. “Oh, just wait, we'll get to that. First things first. How'd you meet?”

Settling more comfortably into the couch, he told his sister everything, from the first moment he'd seen her and thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, to the last time he'd seen her at Haven. The only parts he left out were the sex. There were limits to what he discussed with his sister, after all.

When he finally stopped, so did Sam. Which was not what he'd expected.

“Now you go silent? When I'm counting on you not to be?”

Sam held up one index finger in front of his face. “I'm lining this all up. Give me a sec.” Of course, she didn't need one. “First of all, you haven't mentioned a problem so I'm a little lost as to what that might be. Second, so she's thirteen years younger. She's legal, right? Yeah, you're a little older but, Greg honey, no one will accuse you of being too mature.”

He burst out laughing, knowing that's exactly why she'd said it. “Thanks. You always manage to put me in my place.”

Sam nodded. “Good. Haven't lost my touch. Keeps me on my toes for the kids. Now, explain to me why this relationship is causing you such problems.”

“Maybe because I have the feeling she's not so sure she wants to take me on.”

“What? A catch like you? What's her problem?”

He heard not only the implied jab at his ego but also her indignation on his part. And loved his sister just a little bit more.

“Her problem
is
me.”

“No.” Sam waved that index finger at him again and he felt as old as Adam. “Her problem is you haven't told her you love her. And you probably haven't spent enough time together to know for sure, have you?”

“No, I'm pretty sure I love her.” Actually, he was damn sure.

Sam's eyes narrowed. “But you haven't told her.”

“Not sure she's ready to hear it.”

“And you know this how?”

“Hell, the girl doesn't even want to move her stuff into my suite to spend time with me. I tell her I love her and she'll run the other way.”

“Guys.” Sam rolled her eyes. “Jesus, for such a smart one, you're extremely dense.”

“So clue me in to the error of my ways, oh great one.”

“Lay your heart out, you idiot.” Sam reached out and smacked him on the back of the head to punctuate her statement. “Tell her how you feel, not just what you want. And then back it up with action. Show her you mean what you say. And don't screw it up. Voila! Happy ending. Fade to black.”

“Hey, who's the filmmaker in this family?”

“That would be you. But sometimes you can't see beyond the end of your lens, Greg.”

“And what if this is a tragedy and not a romantic comedy?”

“With you directing? Please, I'm sure there'll be some explosions but there's always a happy ending.”

Twelve

Greg walked into Haven the day after Christmas with a plan.

He liked having a plan. He could make things happen with a plan.

And he had his target in his sights.

Sabrina was alone at the desk, her head bent over a terminal, but as soon as he cleared the front door, her head popped up.

He couldn't tell if she was happy to see him or wished like hell he'd never shown up again. That was a real kick in the ass. Didn't change his objective but it did make him that much more determined to get what he wanted.

He headed straight for the desk, holding her gaze as he navigated the lobby. No one milled around. The doorman was helping an elderly couple into a taxi for their trip to the airport.

“Mr. Hicks. Can I help you?”

“Yes, you can. Come out with me tonight.”

Her eyes widened and she glanced toward the door that led to the reception office. “I was actually hoping to see you today. I thought maybe we could meet for dinner. We need to talk.”

Sounds like maybe Sabrina had a plan, too. Too bad he couldn't tell if her plan ended with them in the same bed, like his plan. Usually when a woman wanted to talk, a man didn't necessarily want to hear what she had to say.

But since he couldn't say what he wanted here and now, he'd just have to make sure he got in the last word tonight.

“Sounds good. Where do you want to go?”

Her gaze dipped for a second. “We won't be leaving the hotel. I'll meet you at your room around eight. Is that okay?”

Greg started to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. She looked nervous. He couldn't remember ever seeing Sabrina nervous.

“Sure. How was your holiday?”

She nodded, her smile a little less brighter than normal. “Nice. And yours?”

Fuck.
This conversation just continued to suck. He wanted to walk behind the counter, kiss the hell out of her, and coax a smile from those beautiful lips.

“Good. How's your family?”

And there was the bright smile he'd wanted. “Christmas is always a madhouse but it's fun. The younger kids still believe in Santa so that makes it special.”

“Yeah. My nephew and nieces are only eight, six, and four. You kind of forget the magic when there's no one around who still believes.”

They fell silent then, an awkward silence that made him want to tease her, make her blush. Make her smile for him.

“So,” he said. “Tonight.”

“Tonight.”

“I'll see you then.”

He forced himself to push away from the counter and head for the elevators. Just as he stepped off on the fourth floor, his phone rang.

“Greg, we have a problem.”

He sighed at Trudeau's voice. “When don't we have a problem?”

“This is bad.”

He paused. “How bad?”

“Bad like I've already booked you on a flight that leaves in ninety minutes. You need to leave for the airport in five. I'll have a taxi waiting.”

“What the fuck. Trudeau, I can't—”

“You need to talk to Amanda. Mark just called. He said she's been AWOL since five days before Christmas. The AD covered for her until someone called Mark. Mark tracked down Amanda but she'll only talk to you and only in person. Mark tried to downplay it but Fred said he got calls from
EW
and
Variety
and now he's threatening to shut her down.”

“Fuck.”

He was going to fucking kill Fred Jamieson the minute he had his hands around the guy's thick neck. His business partner might just have found a way to get him to sell the company. It's what Greg had been waiting for him to do for months. Apparently the guy had finally gotten the balls to do it.

Nearly breaking the door handle in his rush to get into his suite, he headed straight for his bedroom to pack.

He heard Trudeau take a deep breath. “I think Fred is—”

“Yeah. You're not wrong. Fred wants to sell. The Japanese must have upped their offer. He's gonna try to force my hand.”

“Do you want me to find out?”

“Yeah. Whatever you can. But Trudeau . . .”

“Yes?”

“I might not be able to fix this.”

She didn't say anything for a few seconds. “I understand.” Another pause. “Do you want me to start looking for office space? I'm sure the Greater Philadelphia Film Office will be thrilled to welcome you to the area.”

Greg snorted as he grabbed his overnight bag and stuffed a few things in it. Yeah, he'd been thinking about moving but he'd wanted it to be on his terms. That Fred was forcing his hand made him want to dig in his heels and fight with everything he had.

“You're kinda scary, Truly. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You should know that already by now. And if you call me Truly again, I'll make sure your flight is so turbulent you will puke all the way to Iowa.”

Now he laughed though it was kind of lame. “I have no doubt you can do it. Alright, I've got a bag packed. I'm on my way down.”

“I'll meet you in the lobby with your ticket.”

Already on his way back to the elevator, he realized he was about to disappoint Sabrina again. And that sucked.

Shit.

He stepped off the elevator and headed straight for the desk. Trudeau stood at the front door and he saw her start to move toward him. But she stopped when she realized where he was headed.

Sabrina watched him come closer with that pleasant employee smile firmly pasted on her face.

“Are you leaving us, Mr. Hicks?”

“Not for long. And if you don't give up the Mr. Hicks bit, I'm going to spank you when I get back. And you're going to like it.”

Her eyes went round, her mouth dropped open, and he had the satisfaction of seeing that fake expression erased by a flush of color. And he didn't think it was embarrassment.

Then she turned to look over her shoulder for a second before turning back to him. “I take it your schedule has changed.”

“Yeah. I'm not happy about it, and I'm gonna be even less happy if I have to fight for control of my own damn company and pull another director's ass out of the fire. But when I get all of this shit taken care of, you and I are going to settle this.”

Surprise quickly followed by sympathy flashed through her eyes, and he could tell she wanted to say something but all that came out was, “There's nothing to settle.”

“Yeah, there is, but we're not doing this now. I'm literally catching a plane in an hour. I'm flying to Iowa for a few hours before I catch another flight to L.A. Then I'm gonna do battle with my business partner who wants to break up our company and sell it to the highest bidder. Once I take care of that, I'm catching the first flight back here. Then we'll talk this through. Or we won't talk at all and we'll still figure it out. Understood?”

She got that stubborn look on her face, the one he always wanted to kiss off her lips. When his gaze fell to those lips, he heard her suck in a breath.

Yes. She understood.

Smiling, he nodded, then turned on his heel and walked away.

*  *

“So no word from Greg?”

Sabrina sat next to Sebastian on the piano bench, watching the man's hands work the keys. “Well, technically, yes. I got texts the past two nights. ‘How are you' and ‘sleep tight' qualify as words.”

“But he hasn't called?”

Sebastian sounded pissed off and she rested her head on his shoulder for a few seconds, drawing comfort from his righteous anger on her behalf. “No. Is this for the film?”

“Yes. Don't change the subject. You want me to—”

“So, this is where you've been hiding. Nice digs, Valenti. Daddy wanted his little boy to have a nice quiet place to recuperate. Did Daddy also tell you to quit? When the fuck were going to tell your fucking band?”

Sabrina nearly got whiplash as she turned toward the door to the music room, where Sebastian had asked her to keep him company. Since she'd been feeling pretty lonely, she'd agreed.

Now, she almost wished she'd gotten Sebastian to take her out. Because the man who'd walked through the door was nothing but trouble.

His spiky black hair glinted blue in the light, handsome face punctuated by multiple piercings in his brows and lips, and his thickly muscled body covered in black leather and denim.

She'd known exactly who he was the second he'd opened his mouth. She'd listened to enough Baseline Sins music by this time to know they'd just been graced with the presence of lead singer, Nikky Gerhart.

“Nik. What the hell are you doing here?”

Sebastian's voice sounded almost strangled as he rose from the piano bench, stepping in front of Sabrina. She had the instant thought that he was shielding her, but a quick shift to the side and she had a front row seat to what was about to be a shitstorm.

Nik had a mean look on his face, and Sebastian's expression quickly mirrored it.

“I'm here to find out if you're going to fuck us over after you nearly destroyed us.”

“I'm not planning to fuck anyone over.”

After a glance at Sabrina, Nik's sneer made her feel like an outsider at a private party. “She doesn't look like one of your regulars, Baz. She actually looks like she could string a sentence together.”

“Sabrina, you better leave.” Sebastian didn't take his eyes off Nik, as if the guy was dangerous. And yeah, he looked dangerous. But there was no way she was going to leave Baz alone with him.

“What?” Nik sneered. “Afraid I'll hurt her? You suck, asshole.”

“You know that's not what I meant. Why are you always trying to fuck with my head?”

“I'm not fucking with your head. I'm here to find out if we're still a fucking band or if I gotta go out and look for a new fucking guitarist.”

“Did I say I was leaving?”

“No, you haven't said one fucking word since you left. Four
fucking
months ago, Baz.” Nik punctuated each word with an index finger pointed in Sebastian's direction. “No one knew where you were.”

“Like you fucking cared.” Sebastian's voice sounded strangled. “You never tried to track me down.”

“And why should I? You left.”

“I had a mental fucking breakdown. I couldn't hack it. The touring, the drinking, the drama. Hell, I'm lucky to still be alive. Do you get that?”

“And that was my fault?”

“Part of it, yeah. I told you I needed a break. But did you fucking listen? You never fucking listen, Nik. You never have.”

“And you never fucking
talk
.” Nik's voice had risen and Sabrina heard total frustration in every word. “Not really. I had no clue you were so close to dying. I had to hear that from your dad.”

Dying? Sebastian had nearly died. He'd never told her that.

“Yeah, well, I didn't.”

“And that's supposed to make me feel better? You son of a bitch.”

Sabrina let out a little yelp as Sebastian launched himself at Nik and the two men went to the ground in a churning mass of arms and legs.

By the time she made it around the piano, they'd already landed more than a few punches. The piano bench skidded across the floor as one of them kicked it as they rolled. Sebastian had had the upper hand until then but now the bigger, stronger Nik was on top, and Sabrina was afraid Sebastian would be seriously injured.

As Nik drew back to throw a punch, she caught his arm before its downward swing.

She startled Nik into turning, but he did it with enough force that he knocked her off her feet and sent her sprawling.

She was still shaking her hair out of her face when the door opened again and Greg walked in.

“What the
fuck
.”

Greg covered the ground between them in seconds, pulling her to her feet and running his hands down her arms.

While the other two men continued to pummel each other again, he asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, thinking he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Or weeks.

She wanted to wind her arms around his waist and hang on but she cringed when she heard Sebastian grunt.

“He's going to get hurt. Please do something.”

Nodding, Greg turned and grabbed the first man he could reach, which turned out to be Sebastian. Ripping Sebastian away in one direction, Greg shoved Nik in the other.

“Back the fuck off. Both of you. Right now.”

Sebastian immediately turned to Sabrina, checking her out from head to toe.

“Are you okay? Goddamn it, Nik, if you fucking hurt her . . .”

“She got knocked on her ass. She's fine. Right, babe? You're fine. I'm fucking bleeding.”

“You fucking deserve it.”

Sabrina released the breath she'd been holding when she no longer heard the bitterness that'd been in both men's voices before their fight.

Turning, Sebastian put an arm around Sabrina's shoulders. She felt Sebastian sway and wrapped her arm around his waist to steady him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Greg's gaze narrow and had the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him.