Naomi’s beautifully groomed eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“A.J.,” Luke corrected, realizing what he’d called her. “Alexandra is her real name.”
Shit
. He was blushing. Naomi looked down and smiled faintly.
“I see,” she said.
Luke had a feeling she actually did.
A cursory knock was all the warning A.J. gave for her entrance. “Are you here, Luke? I didn’t see Szymanski outside the— Oh.” Her coworker was out of view. Her gaze had fallen on Luke and Naomi. The sight of them in a near embrace stopped her in her tracks. “Excuse me. I shouldn’t have barged in like that.”
Suddenly Luke felt better about blushing. A.J.’s cheeks had gone bright red. Given he and Naomi were dressed for bed, he guessed they looked pretty intimate.
He also guessed that bothered his bodyguard.
Szymanski reached the same conclusion. “Don’t worry, boss,” he teased slyly. “I’ve been here the whole time as chaperone.”
Too flustered to put her annoyance into words, A.J. scowled at him.
“Naomi and I were just talking,” Luke said, enjoying her reaction but not wanting her to suffer. “Discussing how to make her continued stay tolerable.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation!” She realized at once that her voice was too sharp. “Sorry. I mean—” She shut her mouth, probably deciding saying more would get her into worse trouble.
Luke smiled at her. “I know what you mean.”
She glowered at
him
then, which increased his amusement.
“You two are adorable,” Naomi cooed. “And since I’ve suddenly become a third wheel, I think I’ll go pick out a new guest room. Maybe one with a lock.”
“I’ll help you,” Szymanski volunteered before A.J. could tell the other female to stay. Szymanski grinned at his boss. “You’ll take care of Luke while I’m away, won’t you?”
A.J. crossed her arms and didn’t speak until the pair was gone.
“Stop smirking!” was her instruction to Luke then.
“I can’t help it if I enjoy you acting like my girlfriend.”
“A stupid jealous girlfriend,” she muttered to her shoes. “Anyway, I’m not.”
“I think you are.” Unable to resist her pull, he stepped to her. “We sleep together, we like each other, and I’m relatively certain we both want that situation to continue.”
“That doesn’t make us a couple.”
“Is there someone else you want to be in a couple with?”
“No.”
She admitted this sullenly. He stroked her dark locks around her ears, so full of love for her it was ridiculous.
“Me either,” he said lightly. “You’re the only girlfriend I want.” Her gaze met his warily. “I mean it, Alexandra. How many different ways do I need to prove I’m not playing games with you?”
Her pretty mouth pulled sideways. “Can I get back to you on that?”
He laughed. “All right. That’s progress of a sort.” Whether she knew it or not, she wasn’t immune to their closeness. Her hands rested, knuckle-side on his chest. He wondered if she realized she’d let his caresses relax her. “Was there a reason you came to see me? Besides confirming Szymanski was at his post?”
“Eliza gave me permission to check her phone and computer.”
The PA hadn’t had a lot of choice, considering what they caught her at. “Yes?”
“I thought I’d let you know I couldn’t find evidence she took the footage outside the restaurant. It occurred to me our perp might want to watch the demonstration if he or she orchestrated it. I also didn’t find a connection between Eliza and the
Christie and Luke Forever
site.”
“So Eliza’s not involved in the attacks.”
“It seems not. Just stooging for Christie. From what she said, Christie asking for her help flattered her. It seemed a chance to form a genuine connection to a star.”
“She wasn’t so ‘flattered’ she forgot to ask for a ten-grand gift.”
“No,” A.J. conceded. “But for what it’s worth, Eliza said if she’d met you first, she’d have been happy to spy on Christie for you.”
“There’s an ego boost. Though I suppose this means my judgment is merely bad as opposed to horrible.”
“Lots of people would have hired Eliza. She had a good demeanor. She did her job.”
Luke struggled not to sigh. Feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t help. More to the point, it didn’t seem appropriate, considering the cost others were paying compared to him. “I just wish this could be over, that we could figure out who’s behind this and hand them over to the police.”
A.J. chafed his ribs sympathetically. “I’m afraid there’s no magic wand we can wave. Investigations take the time they take. If it makes you feel better, I think we’ll solve it soon.”
“But before or after someone else is hurt?”
“I can’t answer that,” A.J. said.
Her gaze held his—steady and unflinching. She wouldn’t tell him a pretty lie, not about her feelings or her job. Allowing for politeness, which she seemed to believe in, she spoke what she perceived of as truth.
That was both a comfort and a frustration.
“Isn’t there anything we can do to jumpstart a result?”
He saw his question had surprised her. “You mean like set a trap?”
“If you think of one that could work.”
She stepped away from him to mull this over, hands to her mouth with her index fingers in a steeple. It was an actor’s gesture—Project Deep Thoughts 101. He doubted she made it consciously. A.J. didn’t perform for an audience. She wouldn’t realize how fascinatedly Luke watched her.
He knew she’d had a thought when her eyes lit up.
To his dismay, the next thing she did was stride for the door.
“I’ll be back,” she called over her shoulder.
“Where are you going?”
“To run my idea past Martin. And Szymanski. I want to make sure my plan’s doable.”
She left him gaping. She had to seek
Martin’s
approval. Szymanski’s too but not Luke’s. Even though he wasn’t on her team, that hurt.
“Well, hell,” he said to the empty room.
Unwarranted jealousy wasn’t as amusing when he was the one feeling it.
*
Because A.J.’s idea wasn’t completely formed, she restricted sharing it to her two closest coworkers. Done relocating Naomi, Szymanski joined her and Martin at the table in the corner of the ops room. The two techs on duty were focused on their screens. A.J. didn’t allow herself to dwell on her proposal’s potentially embarrassing aspects. The plan had promise. Plus, Martin wasn’t a punch-puller. He’d flat out tell her if she was nuts.
Thankfully he didn’t say that, though his hum when she finished sounded like he needed more convincing.
“I don’t know about this,” he said. “I see some unpredictables in your plan. And your dad won’t like you offering yourself as a target.”
“But I’m only offering me. One thing I’ve concluded about our perp is that he or she has good aim. If we’re correct about motivation, every hit was deliberate. Even winging Luke at the premiere could be interpreted as a slap on the wrist. You know: stop dating this other woman who’s not your destiny. If Luke announces he’s marrying me, we focus all that anger on one point. I know it’s a stretch that he’d choose me, but I think we can sell it.”
“Oh, a giant stretch,” Szymanski scoffed with an amused eye roll. “So giant nobody in this house has noticed you kids can’t keep your hands off each other.”
His sarcasm took her aback. “We haven’t been
that
obvious.”
Martin scratched his stubbled cheek. “You have a bit. Actually, I’d be concerned if the team hadn’t picked up on it. They’re supposed to be observant.”
“When you think about it, though,” Szymanski said, leaning forward on his forearms, “the existing gossip could be a reason to do what she suggests. Depending on how the subject is getting information, A.J. might already be on their radar as a potential threat. If we steer them to act at a time and place of our choosing, we could have a net ready.”
Martin’s hands played with his coffee cup. “On our turf.”
“On our turf,” Szymanski agreed.
“The bait situation would have to be open enough that the subject could gain access.”
“A party,” Szymanski said. “People always expect a few crashers to squeak through. Plus, given everything that’s happened, guests won’t take offense at metal detectors. We wouldn’t want to make it too easy for our perp to act out.”
Martin nodded. “Channing could drop hints he plans to make a big announcement.”
“The internet won’t be enough by itself. He’ll have to drop his hints on a broad platform, to be sure of catching the ear we want.” Szymanski drummed his fingers on the table. “We’ve got three days till
Final Death’s
pushed-back opening. Shouldn’t Luke be doing talk show rounds? That’d get the word out.”
The men were so engrossed in brainstorming they didn’t notice Luke had come in until he cleared his throat. A.J. herself wasn’t sure how much he’d overheard.
“Oh hey,” Szymanski said, craning around in his direction. “Did A.J. share her idea with you?”
“Not exactly,” Luke denied dryly. “But I figured you’d be talking it over here. My question for you is: how insensitive do you think people will believe I am? A girl died, and I’m supposed to throw a party?”
Szymanski was a naturally positive guy. He looked abashed for a moment but recovered. “Don’t people out here say the show must go on? Anyway, what if you spin it to look like a
scaled-down
party, out of respect for the loss?”
“I’ll look like a scaled-down douche!”
“But you could point out how people’s livelihoods depend on the success of the
Final
films.”
“That might justify me doing a talk show, not swilling down champagne.”
“Couldn’t you pretend to be a jerk?” Szymanski suggested hopefully. “You know, for the greater good? You are an actor.”
Luke frowned at him. A.J. saw he didn’t want to do it. People’s opinion of him mattered. She’d known that, but it struck her freshly now. To her surprise, it didn’t make her think less of him. Everyone had their foibles. If Luke cared about his public image, who was she to judge? He was an unusually decent person. Why shouldn’t he get credit?
Luke glanced at her. For some reason, his frown deepened. She knew her expression wasn’t disapproving.
“Maybe I could do it,” he said gruffly. “If you’re convinced it will help.”
“Great,” Szymanski praised like it was settled.
“No,” A.J. said, an idea springing to her mind in a single piece. “I know someone much more convincing at being a douche than Luke . . .”
*
The following day was Monday. A.J. drove on her own to Two Dudes shiny Century City offices. Though Luke had volunteered to ask Kevin Reyes for help, she’d declined. She’d have fewer scruples when it came to pressuring his partner to go along. Reyes agreeing was no sure thing. He’d been resenting Luke’s star-kissed existence for a long time.
The Buddha himself couldn’t have gotten over that overnight.
She had an appointment, but Reyes kept her waiting a quarter hour. She told herself that was nothing in LA, the national capital for childish power plays.
“Thanks for seeing me,” she said when he finally met her in reception.
“No problem,” he tossed off without apologizing. “You made it sound important.”
He led her to his office, which was a medley of green-edged glass, shiny metal, and stylish black leather. The view of downtown through the windows was breathtaking. She noted that—though Reyes was the company’s junior partner—his professional space wasn’t one inch smaller than Luke’s. She suspected the parity had been achieved without argument. Luke’s ego wasn’t fed by making Reyes feel inferior.
“You want coffee?” he offered. “I can buzz the girl to bring some.”
A.J. shook her head and sat in a sleek guest chair.
He perched on his glass desk’s front—wanting the height advantage, undoubtedly.
“This is my new best friend,” he said, lifting a fancy bottle of Voss Water. “Well, this and my candy stash. Had my first AA meeting yesterday. I think I’ve gained two pounds.”
“Don’t worry about the weight,” she said. “You probably don’t feel as good as you will later, but you look better already. Healthier. Your color’s closer to what it should be.”
In the past, he might have used her comment as an excuse to flirt. Today, he accepted it with a grunt. His gaze was sharp as he considered her. “You’re not here to congratulate me on my newly minted sobriety.”
She leaned back and crossed her legs. She was wearing plain black trousers, but Reyes watched the movement regardless. “How would you like a chance to redeem yourself with Luke?”
“
He’s
not suggesting I need one.”
A.J. smiled, unexpectedly pleased he understood Luke that well. “No, he’s not. I suspect all he wants is for you to get your shit together and not be miserable. You, on the other hand, might benefit from feeling you deserve his friendship.”
Reyes narrowed his eyes at her.
“Self respect is important to recovery,” she said sweetly.
“Not you,” he said.
She understood what he was asking. “My dad. Coming up on ten years now.”
Reyes nodded. “What exactly is it you want from me?”
A.J. laid out the plan for him.
Reyes listened, face guarded, thumbnail picking at his water bottle label while he thought. He shifted before he spoke. “Leading the show host in the right direction won’t be a problem. Half the questions in those interviews are precooked.”
“But?” she prompted.
He set the bottle by his hip. “Okay, I’ve been called obtuse a time or two, but even I know throwing a big party in light of all that’s happened is obnoxious. If I claim I pushed Luke to do it, because he ‘needs to celebrate the good things’ and ‘not let the bad guys win’ . . .” Reyes wagged his head. “I’m going to look like a huge jackass.”
“No matter what, someone’s going to look like one. I thought you might volunteer to fall on the sword. If not, I won’t argue. Sell the story as best you can. You don’t even have to hide the fact that it’s spin. The important thing is getting across Luke’s intention to make a big announcement. Find a way to hint that it’s an engagement and just leave open who the engagement’s to. Whether the perp thinks Luke and Christie are getting hitched or he and some rival, the news ought to draw our target there.”