The Love Square (6 page)

Chapter 5

Dylan

With each picture of Dylan published in the tabloids, he became more and more recognizable and less and less comfortable in public. He only relaxed with Clare.

Clare never seemed to mind the attention he attracted. Nor did she let it change their friendship. Dylan constantly apologized when fans interrupted them or women threw themselves at him, until Clare finally demanded he stop.

“If you say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time, I’ll lose my mind. I know it’s part of the package with you,” she’d said. Still, people were rude, and he worried. He tried to keep her protected from it, because she was real to him and the fame wasn’t.

One afternoon after an especially trying photo shoot and an equally trying workout, Dylan showed up at the bookstore looking for Clare. Mary, who’d gotten used to seeing him around, pointed him toward Clare’s office, and he quickly made his way back, avoiding eye contact with customers. He peeked through the open office door and saw Clare with her head down, studying a giant printout and making notes in the margins. Her big, green eyes scanned the paper behind a pair of nerdy glasses.

“Hey, Nebraska,” he said.

She jumped a foot and clutched her chest. “You scared the life out of me, Dylan! My Lord. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry. You’re busy. I’ll go.”

“No, stay,” she said. “I need a break anyway. Come in.”

“Cute glasses,” he teased.

“I only wear them when I have to sort through millions of numbers that don’t add up and figure out what the heck corporate wants.” She swiped his hand away when he tried to flip through the printout. “It’s stupid inventory. Either something is off or there are a lot of shoplifters in Los Angeles. What’s up?”

Dylan held his breath, then blurted, “Do you have any interest in seeing San Francisco?”

“San Francisco? Now?” Clare removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “That’s like hours away, Dylan.”

“I thought maybe we could drive up for the weekend. Separate rooms of course.” He didn’t want Clare to think he was scheming to get her into bed. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. It wasn’t his style to sleep with engaged women, no matter how attractive they were.

She blushed, and he wondered if the thought had crossed her mind too. “I would love to see San Francisco someday. But today I have a store to run.”

“Darn.” He had taken to using her favorite word. “I really need to get away this weekend.”

“So go on your own,” Clare suggested, turning back to her paperwork.

Dylan watched her as he tried to formulate a Plan B. She met his stare and said, “What’s this about? You have that look on your face.”

“Which look?” He rubbed his chin, feeling the start of his five-o’clock shadow.

“The ‘I want to hide from Lusty stuff’ look.”

Clare could read him like one of the books in her inventory.
“Me? Hide from my career? Never.”

“Uh-huh.” Clare smirked and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her office chair. “What’s going on? You need me to put those Hollywood types in line?”

Dylan rubbed his temples and sighed. “I’m supposed to go to a thing, but I don’t want to go.”

“A ‘thing’? What’s a ‘thing’?” Clare put her awful glasses on her freckled nose, opened her desk drawer, and dug out her hidden stash of M&Ms, which she only broke out on extra-stressful occasions. She offered Dylan the container, and he grabbed a handful and started popping them nervously.

“It’s a black-tie charity dinner thing. I don’t have a date.” Clare sorted her M&Ms by color as Dylan came to his senses and grinned. “Unless…”

Clare chose the green M&Ms and started to toss them back, then froze. “Unless? Uh-oh. I don’t like that word.”

“Come on, Clare. You’re the only one I can deal with. Please?” he begged. “It will be fun.” Dylan had no qualms about lying if it meant he’d have a partner at this gig.

She called his bluff. “Fun? You were about to travel six hours to get away from it! I have to work, anyway.”

“Please?” Dylan begged again. “Please, please, please?” He flashed his super Hollywood smile.

Clare rolled her eyes. “What would I have to do?”

“You’d have to wear a gown. Please no glasses.” Clare stuck out her tongue, and he grabbed the glasses and took them off her face. He inspected them and grimaced, then put them on his own. “How do they look on me?”

“You look like Lusty the Librarian.”

“Hey, that was my first porn role. How’d you know?”

“You’re terrible. I’m not going with you. I don’t know how to do Hollywood stuff.”

“All you have to do is walk in with me, smile and be charming for a few hours, then we’ll leave.” He stared at her through her glasses, her cute face blurry through the lenses.

“You realize I’m going to have to rearrange the whole employee schedule for this? Give me those. You look ridiculous.” Clare giggled and reached for her glasses. “This is going to cause me major stress.”

That sounded like a yes, but he also knew she’d complain a bit more. He waited.

“Where the heck am I going to get a gown? You could have stopped me from binge-eating M&Ms. I hate black-tie stuff. It’s so fake. Do I really have to do this?”

“I’ll have my stylist find you a gown. I’ll even ask her to find you decent frames so you don’t look like such a dork in your glasses. You’ll love her.”

“Oh, it’s that easy?”

“I
am
a movie star,” Dylan teased, flashing his Hollywood grin. “That’s what you keep telling me, anyway.”

“Whatever. You’re a pain in my tush is what you are. You and your stupid Lusty smile.”

“If you go with me, I’ll buy you a present. A
surprise
present,” he said, pulling out the big guns.

“Fine. For a present, I’ll go. Now get out of here so I can crunch numbers.” Clare put on her nerd girl glasses and waved him away.

Before he left, he bent down and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Out. That present better be good.” She didn’t look up, but Dylan caught her smiling at her paperwork as he grabbed more M&Ms and left.

The next day, Dylan’s stylist, Gretchen, called to tell him she’d stopped by the store to size up Clare, whom she described as “lovely.” Dylan thanked her profusely, and later, when Clare called to complain, he pleaded with her.

“Can you do it for me? Just go with the flow, Clare.”

She’d hung up on him, but two minutes later sent him a text continuing her rant.

***

For the first time in his career, Dylan actually looked forward to a Hollywood event. He puttered around his apartment Saturday night, anxiously awaiting Clare’s arrival, calming his nerves with a glass of whiskey as he listened for the buzzer. He recalled taking his ex Maggie to these events—how excited she’d get, how she’d float around the room networking. Dylan would hardly see her.

Clare wouldn’t be like that. They’d have a great time, enjoying a night out like they always did.
As friends
, he reminded himself, although he couldn’t shake the nervous feeling that they were about to embark on their first date.

When Clare rang his doorbell, Dylan pushed the button to buzz her in, opened the apartment door a crack, and went back to watching the news. When he heard the elevator ding and the familiar sound of her footsteps in the hallway, he grabbed his whiskey and walked toward his front door.

Clare pushed the door open, and when Dylan saw her, he lost all sense. His drink slipped right out of his hand, the glass crashing to the floor and shattering, splattering whiskey everywhere.

Clare jumped back to avoid the spray. “My Lord, Dylan, I just put this dress on ten minutes ago and you’re already going to ruin it.” She walked into the kitchen as Dylan stood watching her, speechless. She came back to the foyer with handfuls of paper towels and bent to clean the mess.

“Well, are you going to help me or not? Don’t we have to get going? Gosh, you look handsome in that tux,” Clare said, looking him up and down from her squat as she wiped the floor. When Dylan didn’t move, she stood up and stared back at him.

“What?” She looked down at herself. “Stop staring at me, you freak.”

Dylan couldn’t. He had never seen her made up, and she looked gorgeous. Her wavy hair fell to right below her ears, almost grazing her shoulders, and despite eye makeup that made her green eyes seem even more catlike, her natural style shone through. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the freckles on her nose, and he gulped down the words caught in his throat.

And her body.
Whoa.
She always kept it covered up. The couple of times they had gone to the beach she had stayed dressed, claiming the sun would burn her. Judging from her pale skin, she was probably right. Her petite body curved like a perfect hourglass. The strapless black dress hugged her top, then flared out just a bit to graze her knees. Although he’d never seen her in heels, she seemed comfortable marching around his apartment cleaning his spill in her strappy shoes.

Between her porcelain skin that contrasted with the black dress, the freckles on her shoulders that matched those on her nose, and her giant green eyes, he had a hard time believing she was going anywhere with him.

“You look amazing,” he mumbled.

She swept the glass into a dustpan. He knew he should help, but he couldn’t seem to move. “Your dress…it’s…perfect.”

“Well, it’s yours, really. You bought it. You can wear it tomorrow.”

He wasn’t ready to joke. He wanted to admire her for a minute longer. As she bent again to wipe the floor, Dylan squatted next to her and touched her elbow to slow her down.
“I mean it,” he said. “You look beautiful.”

Clare stopped moving and turned to him, a rosy blush colored her face. “Thanks.”

Then neither spoke. When Clare smiled, a minute or an hour later, Dylan swooned like a schoolboy.

He bolted up and forced himself out of his trance. “Do you want something to drink?” He didn’t know what else to do or say.

Clare stood too, smoothing her skirt with her hands. “Only if you promise not to spill it on me.”

After indulging in a glass of wine, which he didn’t drop or spill, they headed to the party. He schmoozed with the studio executives, finding it nearly impossible to tear his gaze from Clare. Eventually, the two of them ignored the party and hid in a corner, focused on each other. If not for their attire, they could have been sitting on the beach in their usual spot chatting.

They ended up staying for the entire event. Afterward, he walked her to her car. “Thanks so much for tonight. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“I’ll admit it. It was fun going full-out Hollywood with you.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it again?”

“Only if I get a new dress and the makeup people,” she said.

“Nebraska! Are you going California on me?”

“Never,” she said, giggling.

Dylan and Clare stood by her car for a few silent minutes, neither making a move to end the night. Overpowered by the desire to kiss her, Dylan held back by reminding himself over and over,
We’re friends
,
she’s engaged.

Clare finally kissed him on the cheek and then opened her car door.
He watched her drive away, glad he didn’t complicate the feelings between them with a kiss. He didn’t want to be the cause of Clare doing to Lucas what Maggie had done to him.

***

Jenna

Jenna’s phone rang from the depths of her dance bag as she and Scott finished rehearsal. Sweat dripped off her chin as she skipped over to dig it out.
Alex.

“Stecs!” he screamed into the phone when she tapped it. “Where you at?”

Jenna held it away from her ear. “The studio, rehearsing. Don’t you have a game?” She found a towel in her dance bag and wiped the back of her neck.

“Have you looked outside?”

She hadn’t. She and Scott had started rehearsal in the windowless studio right after work. She tried to peek out the window in Scott’s office but couldn’t find a clear view.

“Rained out,” Alex said. “Wanna hang?”

“Where are you? It’s late.”

“Your apartment.” He was always at her apartment. But for his endless stream of one-night stands, she would ask him to move in and pay half the rent. “Bring Scott. I’ll meet you at Hank’s.”

Jenna looked at the clock. Her muscles ached, and she longed for a hot shower and sleep.

“I hear you thinking up excuses,” Alex said. “Don’t wimp out. Let’s celebrate the rain, unwind. Not too long, I promise.”

“Why don’t we just watch a movie or something?” She couldn’t bear the thought of slogging to Hank’s in the rain.