“Hi,” I said, in my smallest voice.

“Lena?” With a hand she lowered her glasses. “You are Lena aren’t you? Jimmy told me about you, said you’d be here.”

I blinked.

She held out her hand. “Hi.”

My hand shook long before she started shaking it. Luckily, she seemed to write it off as my being starstruck. Let the lady think what she wanted. “Come in, please.”

“Thanks.” Her smile wavered a little at my odd behavior. Screw her, I was doing the best I could under the circumstances. Visions of Jimmy and Liv together filled my mind. Him with his dark hair and her with her sunny Californian good looks, such a dramatic contrast they’d make, the camera would just eat them up.

And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go down those stairs and see the expression on his face when he saw her. It would kill me. He smiled for me so rarely, even a flash of dimple made my day. If Liv Anders got an out-and-out grin I’d melt into a puddle of misery right there and then.

So instead, I kind of hooked my thumb in the general direction of the basement. “They’re down there. Working. They, um … yeah. You should go down.”

“All right.” Her smile turned plastic, fixed in place. Guess her acting skills weren’t so great after all. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you later.”

I had nothing.

With dainty steps, she descended. I wanted to hate her, it would have made life easier, but Liv actually seemed half decent, friendly even. If only she’d been a rampaging bitch. My intense dislike would have been so much more straightforward and reasonable.

“Hey.” Dean wandered out of the kitchen. He’d turned up that morning with Taylor and been busy in the studio all day so we’d barely gotten a hello in. “I was thinking, maybe we could do something tonight?”

“Sounds good.” I gave him the best smile I had in me. Nice, normal Dean. The sight of him failed to soothe my heart however on account of it being the most clueless organ in existence. I should demand a transplant. “I’d like that.”

“Great. Been trying to get a moment alone with you all day.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah, but it’s been busy down there.” He moved closer. “I like your hair up like that.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude leached from my pores at his kind words, it was pathetic really. His grip slipped down my arm, fingers sliding over mine until we were holding hands. My muscles unwound, relaxed. I wasn’t alone. My life wasn’t over because Liv Anders had arrived, I would go on.

This was good.

For such a small intimacy handholding packed a punch. Sex was great, but sex wasn’t everything and when it came to Dean, I just wasn’t ready yet. Hand-holding worked. And it led to more kissing, a little necking maybe, some touching, followed eventually by a bit of rubbing in the right places. The steps leading up to sex should be enjoyed at a leisurely pace, the foreplay of dating and getting to know someone could only be done once so it should be done right.

And Dean was nice.

Jimmy could think what he liked about the word. Nice was nice. It had its place in the warm and fuzzy ways of beginning to feel for someone, and I wanted to feel for Dean. Feeling for him was pleasant, painless, and plausible. Three things I’d begun to appreciate more and more. The days of me throwing my heart and soul at Jimmy Ferris’s feet were done.

A sliver of guilt existed over dating Dean when I had feelings for Jimmy. But if I didn’t want those feelings, if I was willing to work at getting past them …

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Work junk.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. “I should head back down.”

“Me too,” he said, giving me his lopsided grin.

Which was how we wound up walking hand in hand down the steps toward the recording studio. Right when the guys and company were pouring out of the place.

Jimmy’s eyes latched onto our joined hands and his face hardened. It might have just been me, but I’m pretty sure the temperature in the room rocketed to lava levels.

“If she’s here, she’s working, Dean,” he said, his voice flat and unfriendly.

What the hell?

“Right.” Dean dropped my hand like it had been dipped in poison. “Sorry, Jim.”

“Actually I was just on my break,” I said, despite the fact I’d never actually had an official break since starting with him. He probably owed me quite a few by now.

A muscle jumped in Jimmy’s jawline. “Lena, I asked you to get the info on the interview for next week.”

“It’s waiting for you in the office.”

“I’m not in the office, Lena. I’m here.”

“So I see. Just give me a moment and I’ll fetch it for you.”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all, Jimmy. Anything for you.”

His jaw hardened. “And we can do without you carrying on with your boyfriend during business hours from now on,” he said.

Carrying on? For f**k’s sake. There was a lot I could say in response, but all of it came with the distinct possibility of putting Dean straight back in the firing line. “Duly noted.”

“Great.”

“Awesome.”

He just glared at me.

Therefore, I got the last word in and I won. Take that, you god damn arrogant tyrannical shithead. I didn’t know if he was jealous or what, but perhaps he’d snap and fire me this time. He certainly seemed angry enough, his eyes promising all sorts of damage. Part of me almost hoped he would, my heart hammering inside my chest. Do it, do it, do it.

“That’s enough,” he snapped.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to.”

True enough. We could read each other far too well at times.

Everyone had frozen sometime during our verbal combat, all the better to watch the carry-on. Even Liv the movie star seemed discomforted by the scene. Her head turned this way and that, eyes wide with obvious confusion.

Then Mal let out a loud wailing noise. “I hate it when mommy and daddy fight!”

The crazed drummer barreled up the stairs in a dramatic exit. If Dean and I hadn’t flattened ourselves against the wall we’d have been knocked over. David choked on a laugh, Ben at least had the good grace to turn his back before he cracked up, and behind them, Taylor and Pam said nothing. The movie star still had the oblivious thing going on. Then her hand crept beneath Jimmy’s arm, her fingers wrapping around his strong bicep and squeezing before her fingers dropped away.




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