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  “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?

  But after a few seconds of his heart jackhammering at panic-inducing speeds, her shoulders relaxed. “Get inside and charm her like you do every other reporter. I’ll be hanging around until you’re done.”

  Not exactly what he wanted to hear, but it was better than the alternative. “And then we’re off to Vegas.”

  “Oh, joy.”

  He loved her dry sense of humor. Most women would love to go to Vegas with him, but Red had that been there, done that mentality. After all, she’d been the one who’d showed him the ropes when he arrived in Hollywood six years ago. Her attitude comforted him far more than he dared to express. She wasn’t there for the bright lights and big money. She’d had her fill of that. She was there for him.

  He placed a kiss on her cheek. “See you in a couple of hours.”

  The magazine had ta
ken over a suite in the hotel for the spread. The first stop was the makeup chair, followed by a quick check by the stylist. Both of them marveled at his outfit, and his chest tightened with pride. Sarah had done well. Almost too well.

  And the nagging fear that she was trying to leave him resurfaced.

  If she found success in the fashion world, would she choose that over him?

  He shifted in his chair. As a friend, he wanted her to succeed. She had been a gifted actress before she crashed and burned, and he still mourned the fact that she refused to return to the screen. It seemed like such a waste of talent. But now that she’d developed this new skill, he couldn’t wait to see what she’d create next.

  On the flip side, though, he couldn’t imagine life without her. She’d been his assistant for the last three years, a permanent fixture at his side, and as far as he was concerned, they were practically married.

  Well, without the sex part. Not that he didn’t want it. He had fantasies of making love to her. But the one time he’d dared to bring it up, she’d stopped speaking to him for almost a month.

  Lesson learned.

  He moved to the next room, where a photographer must have shot a hundred pictures of him before the reporter showed up. “Gideon Kelly, we meet again.”

  He resisted the urge to cringe when he heard her voice. The last time he’d heard it was at an Oscar after-party in February. Donna Carlson, one of the magazine’s top reporters, had set her sights on him that night and found any excuse she could to get her hands on him. The night ended with her inviting him back to her place, but he’d politely declined.

  This reeked of payback.

  He strolled over to the chairs that had been set up for the interview, careful not to make eye contact. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was opening the door for a repeat of that night.

  Even though Donna was old enough to be his mom, she’d been appropriately nipped and tucked to maintain the youthful image that Hollywood deemed essential for the biz. A low-cut blazer revealed enhanced cleavage, and a dark pencil skirt clung to her curves before stopping just above a pair of tanned calves. She sat down and crossed her legs with a smug expression on her face. “How are you doing today?”

  Sweat prickled the back of his neck, and he rubbed it away. “As well as to be expected.”

  And if Sarah knew anything about this…

  As soon as the thought entered his mind, Donna answered, “One of my junior reporters was supposed to cover this story, but the poor thing called in sick today, so I stepped in.”

  Well, at least Red’s not at fault. He sat down and focused on appearing relaxed, even though all he wanted to do was hop on that plane to Vegas and forget about the hour he had inadvertently scheduled with a cougar. He was an actor, after all. He could act his way through this.

  He forced himself to smile. “How very kind of you.”

  “Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” The underlying current of seduction in her statement made his insides recoil. “Why don’t we just strip away the pleasantries and get down to business?”

  He glanced around the room and realized they were alone.

  Shit.

  But he refused to play her game. “I have a plane to catch at three, so the sooner we get this interview over with, the better.”

  She pursed her lips and pulled out a digital recorder.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Sarah warning him not to say anything that would be twisted and used against him. Judging by the look on Donna’s face, she was looking to exploit any slip-up she could get.

  The interview started easily enough. She asked about his latest film and moved on to his upcoming project with another big-name actor, Gabe Harrison. “Two of Hollywood’s sexiest men on the same screen? I might need to bring my fan with me to the theater.”

  Yeah, to treat your hot flashes. Jeez, did this woman ever give up?

  But he cleared his throat and said, “I’m looking forward to working with Gabe. He’s a great actor, and I hope to learn a few things from him to improve my craft.”

  “And what about Mackinzie Donavan? She has quite the track record for dating her co-stars.”

  She was the only part of the film he was dreading. Mackinzie was a model-turned-actress with absolutely no acting ability, and the poor schmucks she’d had flings with immediately became tabloid fodder during those whirlwind relationships. It kept her name constantly in the media, and that unfortunately translated to her getting better and better roles.

  Of course, he knew better than to say that to Donna. He could only imagine how she’d use that against him.

  He caught a flash of red hair in the doorway and smiled. Sarah was standing outside, waiting for him. And it gave him the perfect response to end this awkward conversation. “I’m not too worried about Mackinzie. I already have someone special in my life.”

  Donna straightened, her interest aroused. “Oh, really? And who is this special person?”

  “Someone who’s seen me at my worst and stayed by my side. Someone who is there to pick me up when I fall and to help me celebrate when I succeed. Someone I care very deeply about and who I know cares about me.” He glanced at the doorway to see if Sarah was listening, but saw nothing. Maybe he’d just imagined she’d been there.

  “And does this mystery person have a name?”

  Gideon snapped his attention back to Donna, the hairs on his arms rising. If he wasn’t careful, she’d probably spin this into some sort of “Is he gay?” article. “She does, but she’s a very private person, and I wish to respect that.”

  “And any hope for wedding bells in the near future?”

  His gaze strayed to the doorway once again. “A man can hope.”

  Chapter Three

  Sarah pressed her hand to her chest, but it did little to calm the frantic beat of her heart. No good ever came from eavesdropping, and now she knew why. She was just waiting for Gideon to repeat his drunken confession from Halloween. But by some blessed twist of fate, he was smart enough to end the conversation there, despite the reporter’s pleas for a name.

  She’d walked away from Sage Holtz and all the baggage that came with that name years ago. The father who’d been arrested in the company of an underage prostitute. The drunk mother who was on her sixth husband and who’d had so much plastic surgery, she could blink her belly button. The downward spiral of drugs and alcohol that had destroyed her career. As far as she was concerned, that person died the night she’d gotten hit by a car outside a club over three years ago.

  In her place stood a person she liked. Sarah Holtz may not have been a glamorous movie star, but she had accepted herself for who she was and finally felt comfortable in her skin. She hid from the spotlight and the flash of the camera, but she was still entwined with the industry she’d once sacrificed everything for. She’d found her balance.

  Which was why entering into a romantic relationship with Gideon was not an option.

  And if he let her name slip to that reporter, she feared the balance she’d spent the last three years trying to achieve would come crashing down around her.

  Her breath hitched when the reporter mentioned wedding bells. Please, anything but that. It didn’t help that all of Gideon’s brothers were either married, engaged, or in a long-term relationship. The settling-down bug had hit the Kelly boys, much to their mother’s delight, and Gideon wasn’t immune to it. Especially after that Halloween party.

  “A man can only hope,” he’d replied.

  The five words hit her like a punch in the gut. She’d expected him to move on once she explained why being more than friends was out of the question, but his response to the reporter told her he hadn’t let go of the idea. Not yet. And she wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or upset.

  Perhaps she should’ve turned in her notice on Halloween.

  But somewhere in the center of her chest, she knew why she hadn’t. Gideon was right. She did care about him. Far more than she should. Which was
why Operation Independence needed to be a success. She needed to prove to herself that her feelings for him weren’t tied to the fact he’d taken her in and helped her get back on her feet. She needed to know that she was capable of taking care of herself first. And then, if her insides still turned to mush when he wrapped his arms around her and whispered sentimental nonsense, maybe she’d find the courage to see where things went.

  She managed to pull herself together just as Gideon emerged from the room. “I thought I saw you waiting for me.”

  “Like I have anything better to do. Besides, I just asked the valet to bring my car around.”

  He paused and seemed to search her face for any sign that she’d overheard him, but her years on camera had taught her how to turn her face into an emotionless mask. She was the queen of resting bitch face.

  After a moment, he gave up and leaned in to whisper, “Get me out of here before she propositions me again.”

  “I don’t know. Getting laid might do you some good,” she teased.

  Unfortunately, it backfired. Desire flared in his dark blue eyes, but they were focused on her.

  Her body rebelled against her with a quiver of anticipation that rolled through her veins and settled in the deepest pit of her stomach. Her breath quickened as she imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. A flush stole over her skin from the thought, and she licked her lips. Would it be worth all the chaos just to spend one night in his bed?

  He responded with a slow, easy grin that let her know he’d witnessed her moment of weakness. “You said it, not me.”

  He took off for the elevator, leaving her exposed to the full force of the reporter’s jealous glare.

  A stream of curses rampaged through Sarah’s mind, but she managed to catch up with him before the elevator doors closed. “It was the chick from the Oscar party, right?”

  “Bingo.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I get the distinct impression she’s trying to create some sensational exposé on me as payback.”

  “And why did you give her something to work with?”