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  Emerson stood and reached out her hand to pull Hayley up with her. “Are you?”

  “No. Not in the least bit.” Hayley took her hand and smiled as Emerson entwined their fingers before she tugged her up the stairs and toward the door.

  “Maybe you should be.” Emerson was surprised when the words left her lips, but Hayley didn’t bat an eye. She had a feeling that maybe she was projecting. Maybe it was she who was afraid of Hayley.

  “I doubt that.” Hayley pulled back and held Emerson on the landing for a moment. “You’re going to be great in there. I can feel it.”

  Emerson could feel it, too. Whatever it was, was powerful. There was something brewing between them, and she could feel the heat of it from across a room. She just wasn’t sure what to do about it, but she had a few ideas. Standing this close to Hayley now made the feeling that much more blindingly hot. She couldn’t ignore it if she tried, so she decided she wouldn’t.

  She leaned close, basking in the warmth radiating off Hayley’s body as she brought her lips to Hayley’s ear. “Time for me to make that sex scene sound believable.”

  * * *

  Emerson stretched out on the bed and groaned as her muscles protested yesterday’s very long day. Her internal clock willed her to wake up, but she resisted. Some days she had no idea what time zone she was even in, but she knew this time that she was in her bed, in her rented house. Safe. She looked over at the clock on her bedside table and smiled. She had time to enjoy the warmth of her bed and the quiet for a little bit longer.

  She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. This was her favorite time of day—the calm before the storm, the peace before the war—her favorite time because it was the only time she had entirely to herself. No schedule, no appointments, no questions to answer, nothing. She paused and thought of Hayley. Answering Hayley’s questions never felt like work, though. Her questions never felt like an invasion of her privacy. If anything, she found herself feeling like she was learning things about herself that she had suppressed. Answering Hayley’s questions felt a lot like rediscovering herself, like finding her way after being lost. Like a beacon on a dark path, Hayley felt like a light, like a way out. And she could use some guidance right now.

  She sighed out loud and looked up at the ceiling before she checked her phone again—she was waiting for Tremont’s message telling her that Hayley’s most recent teaser installment had hit the web. They had been doing a little hype work and had generated quite the buzz. People were talking more about Emerson and Willow Path than about Rachel and the mud she was slinging. Still, she knew the public was fickle and that there was still a possibility this could all blow up in her face. But she trusted Hayley to portray the narrative in a fair way. And so far, she had done just that. Emerson had been more than pleased she’d taken the chance on Hayley.

  When she didn’t find any update from Tremont, she tossed the phone aside and sat up. The sheets and blankets fell to her waist and exposed her naked skin to the room air. She shivered and stood before walking into her bathroom and starting the hot water in the shower. Once the steam clouded the glass, she stepped in. She took a deep breath and reached for the soap to lather her body under the continuous stream running over her shoulders and down her back. She moved her hands over her hip bones, across her abdomen, and under her breasts as she collected suds under her fingertips and massaged them into her skin. Her head fell back into the hot stream as she glided lower. She slipped her hand between her thighs and stroked the sensitive skin with care.

  Her mind wandered back to yesterday’s voice-over break. Someone had snapped a picture of her and Hayley sitting closely on the back step. She had scanned the lot before sitting but hadn’t seen anyone, so she’d been surprised when Tremont had texted her the screenshot from TMZ’s nightly show. She’d been angry that someone had invaded a private moment, but more upset that Hayley was possibly drawn into this circus. Her face had been hidden by her hair, but it was just a matter of time before another photo emerged with the two of them together. That would surely fuel whatever speculation might run amok. She felt protective of Hayley in that moment, but also grateful that she hadn’t given in to her urge to kiss her. Not because she didn’t want to kiss her—she did—but because she didn’t want to jeopardize her trip to Colorado this weekend.

  The last thing she needed was to give Rachel more fuel and push her over the edge. Up to now Rachel was just trying to fuck with her career. She hadn’t released anything personal—yet. But she knew it was only a matter of time before Rachel broke out the big guns. She didn’t want to think about that right now. She wanted to think about Hayley and the way she’d looked at her yesterday. There was an affection there and lust. Emerson had felt the same.

  She exhaled through her mouth as the shampoo rinsed from her hair. Her fingers playfully scratched up and down her thighs and stirred all sorts of wonderful feelings between her hips. She loved the slippery warmth the shower granted her—it had been a while since she’d had sex. She was horny.

  She turned under the rain showerhead and let her front rinse clean of the suds. She spread her legs and soothed the skin on her thighs. She teased a little as she closed her eyes again and let herself enjoy the moment. The look on Hayley’s face while she did the voice-over yesterday was fresh in her mind as she gently rubbed her clit. Emerson had used that look to help her get into the frame of mind for that sex scene. The memory fueled the heat spreading in her lower abdomen as her hand worked between her legs. She whimpered as her insides began to contract from the stimulation of her fingers. This felt good. She needed this.

  Her mind returned to Hayley’s eyes on her lips as they spoke quietly just inches apart on the step and the darkness in those same eyes when Emerson gave the voice-over performance of her lifetime—partly for Hayley’s benefit, partly for herself. Emerson had watched Hayley closely. She had this look of…hunger. It was more than lust. She’d seen lust in Hayley’s eyes briefly at the dress fitting during their first meeting together. This look, the one from the voice-over, was different. It was affectionate and adoring, but also piercing and protective. And wanting. She had seen a glimpse of it when Hayley complimented her eyes. That had been what spurred her to nearly kiss Hayley and to caress her cheek. Oh, how she’d wanted to suck on her bottom lip and feel the flesh between her teeth.

  That look in Hayley’s eyes was what she thought of now as she brought herself to climax in the privacy of her shower while hidden in clouds of steam. Her quiet moans of pleasure were shushed by the sounds of rushing water and her mind flirted with the easy smile of Hayley sitting in the sun on that step behind the studio. She thought of how that look of affection turned to something more when Emerson had almost kissed her. She thought of the slight blush on Hayley’s cheeks when she had intentionally teased her about recording sex noises and of the turned-on, flushed look on her face when Emerson’s voice performance was complete. That was the thought Emerson let flutter behind her eyelids as she felt each diminishing tremor roll through her.

  She let out a contented sigh as she finished her shower and turned off the water. She wondered if that solo performance was the best idea, considering she was supposed to see Hayley again in the near future.

  “Probably not,” Emerson said to no one in particular as she reached for the towel on the heated rack to her left. But she regretted nothing. If anything, she wanted to do that all again, this time with Hayley here in person.

  Chapter Ten

  It had been five days since Hayley had seen Emerson or been in her whirlwind. Something—Tremont didn’t elaborate—took Emerson out of town and their plans to get together had fallen by the wayside. She’d been actively writing in the time off and had a good chunk of the final piece completed. There was only one problem, though—she had no answer to the Rachel thing, and she felt like she’d hit a wall.

  Sharon walked past her cubicle and gave her a look. It was safe to say things around the office hadn’t improved much since her work with Em
erson was getting more and more attention. Sharon had decided to stop acknowledging her existence entirely—except to glare at her occasionally—which would have been fine all by itself if not for the continued character assault she was under by Drake. With every teaser piece released about Emerson by the Sun, he countered with something from Rachel’s camp. It would appear Rachel had aligned herself with Drake. Just one more heaping complication to add to Hayley’s already full plate.

  C’mon, Hayley. You can do this. The devil is in the details. Think.

  As she stared at the blinking cursor on the screen in front of her and she reminisced about their last meeting. It had been a lot. She and Emerson had discussed Emerson’s dreams and her acting and the Willow Path project, but it’d also been intense. Intense in that Hayley was finding herself more and more attracted to Emerson and something told her Emerson knew it. Whether she felt the same way or not, Hayley wasn’t sure. But the one thing she was sure of? She’d been having fitful dreams night after night of Emerson’s voice-over performance. And it was incredibly distracting. And arousing. Which was distracting in and of itself.

  Never in her life had she been so turned on by something. Emerson’s timing was incredible—she didn’t miss a single cue or struggle when a scene had to be reshot. Hayley saw one of the sound engineers fanning himself during the final scene, and she wanted more than anything to do the same. But she’d caught Tremont watching her reactions a few minutes before and she was trying—and probably failing—to seem unaffected. As if that was possible.

  The zoomed-in, single-camera footage did nothing but enhance Emerson’s moans and breathy additions. The scene was so real, Hayley had to remind herself that these were two highly paid and very talented actresses. And that the process of the filming was undoubtedly unsexy, with lots of pauses and reapplications of makeup, and people standing around with sound and video equipment…but still, movie magic was a damn thing and she had witnessed it happen firsthand. And then again in her dreams every night since.

  The phone rang on her desk and Hayley was jarred from her reverie.

  “Hayley Carpenter.”

  “Hayley.” Jonathan’s gruff voice filled the line. “I expect the final draft of your piece on my desk by the end of next week.”

  “Good afternoon, Jonathan. Why yes, I am having a lovely day. Thanks for asking.”

  Jonathan exhaled with a sigh. “Sorry. How’s everything going?”

  Hayley smiled at her small win. “Good. It’s coming along nicely, thanks.”

  “Excellent. So, the deadline?” He was back to all business.

  “You really don’t mess around do you, Jonathan?” She couldn’t help but tease a little.

  “Not when it’s the biggest story of the season, no,” he replied, devoid of any sense of humor. Still.

  “Way to set me up for failure…” His comment hit her like a punch to the gut. She didn’t need any more pressure, thankyouverymuch.

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “This is far from funny, Hayley. If it was up to me, a more seasoned writer would be on this project. But those little teasers you’ve been submitting are pretty decent.”

  Hayley frowned at the empty threat. She knew at this point that Emerson wouldn’t work with anyone else but her. They had been getting along well, and she felt like Emerson finally trusted her enough to start opening up. “Gee, thanks. I’ll have it to you by deadline.”

  “Good.” He disconnected before she could reply.

  Hayley leaned back in her chair and examined the document on the screen in front of her. This felt hopeless.

  Her phone rang, and she cursed under her breath. What more could Jonathan want?

  “Yes?”

  “Hayley?” The voice on the line was slightly distorted.

  Hayley grimaced, realizing her phone etiquette was lacking. She’d been screening her calls of late since every single wannabe journalist and their mother had been calling to try to get the inside scoop. Drake’s most recent article featured Hayley’s direct line next to the label Secret Sterling Source. She really hated that guy. “Er, sorry, this is Hayley Carpenter. I’m not at liberty to discuss anything at this time. Please forward your comments, questions, and concerns to—”

  “Hayley, it’s Tremont.” His connection must not be great. He sounded far away.

  Well that was unexpected. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

  “Something’s come up. Are you available to meet with Emerson…?” A crackle on the line caused her to miss the last part.

  “Meet Emerson when?”

  “Tonight.” He sounded impatient.

  Hayley reached for her tablet and pulled up her schedule. She wasn’t slated to see Emerson again until two days from now. She’d been counting on the off time to write. “Uh, sure. What time?”

  “Well, now, actually. Can you leave work? I have a car waiting outside,” he said, the line quality improving.

  Hayley glanced around the mess of files and papers on her desk and nodded to no one in particular.

  “Hayley? Time is of the essence.” Tremont sounded annoyed and a little congested.

  “Yes. Sorry. I just need like five minutes to pack up and I can be outside,” she replied as she speed packed her belongings.

  “Good. See you soon.” She heard relief in his voice and wondered what all this was about.

  As she hurriedly moved her tablet and notes into her messenger bag, Alison’s voice sounded over her shoulder, “So, was that the famous movie star?”

  Hayley nodded and looked up at Alison with a smile. “Mm-hmm. Well, the famous movie star’s cranky assistant.”

  “I figured as much since I’ve only ever seen you move that fast to beat the line for half-price wings at Lilly’s.” Alison leaned against the edge of her cubicle. “Which happens to be tonight. Any interest on gossiping with me over wings and margaritas? You haven’t told me anything interesting lately, and I need my Page Six fix.”

  Hayley felt oddly protective of the information Emerson gave her and hadn’t shared much more than a few items that didn’t make her weekly teaser. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Alison, it was just that Emerson had shared so little with her—nothing of any seeming significance—that she wanted to ensure she wasn’t cavalier with the information Emerson had shared. She had a feeling that the direction of their interviews together was about to change, and she was feeling a little superstitious. In fact, she had added some of her observations of Emerson and the things she felt were truly important to the ES Musings file on her desktop. Those things had yet to make it into her submissions to Jonathan. But all this hush-hush secretive shit was exhausting, and margs and wings with Alison sounded like heaven right about now. She frowned. “Seems like I’m needed on my night off. Let’s hope it’s for something good.”

  “Ooh, maybe it’s the Rachel lead you’ve been hunting for all along.” Alison rubbed her hands together with excitement. “Imagine if the unexpected and late-night beckoning of the complicated starlet was to tell you everything you wanted to know under the cover of darkness.”

  “You’ve been watching too many of those Lifetime mystery marathons,” Hayley replied.

  “Rob’s been traveling. You’re out fraternizing with the Hollywood elite. I’ve been bored.” She shrugged.

  Hayley felt awful. She’d been a shitty friend to Alison lately. It seemed like all her time was consumed with chasing Emerson to and from meetings or movie sets and trying to get a note in here or there. She’d had no life to begin with, but she had less of a life now.

  “Let’s have a movie weekend together. I’ll come over on Friday and we can order Chinese food from that place with the awesome dumplings and I promise to watch all those horrible chick flicks you’re obsessed with.” Hayley gave Alison’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Deal?”

  Alison’s eyes lit up. “Deal.”

  “Okay, there’s supposedly a car waiting for me. I have to run,” Hayley said and shook her head. “That sounds so ridiculous s
aying it out loud.”

  “I can’t even handle how fancy you are these days,” Alison teased, “but I meant what I said before, Hayley. This last-minute beckoning…feels like the start of something, doesn’t it?”

  “I won’t hold my breath,” she said. Even though she felt like she was making major ground with Emerson, she had a feeling that the Rachel bit would be as elusive as the white whale in this journey she was on. Every time she even got close to that line of questioning, Emerson shut it down. The reaction was almost like whiplash. One minute Emerson would be nodding and contributing little by little, and the next minute she would be stone silent and looking out at some far-off shape, closed off and lost. Hayley had struggled in the beginning when Emerson reacted that way. But over the last few weeks she had finally started to see the warning signs. Emerson had a few tells. Like, when she was uncomfortable with a line of questions, she would cross her left leg over her right and break eye contact. Or her smile would fade just a little and the light in her eyes would dim a bit. But perhaps the most significant change Hayley noticed was the way the usually confident and extroverted woman would shrink back into her seat—just a little—so infinitesimally that anyone who wasn’t watching closely would miss it. But Hayley didn’t miss it. She had learned to watch Emerson carefully, because she spoke more with her actions than with her words. And Emerson was practically a master at disguising her discomfort. Hayley supposed a life in the public eye hardened someone in that way. Discomfort was a sign of weakness. She understood that now more than ever.

  She said her good-byes to Alison and exited the side of the building to find Tremont standing outside a black town car. He was rubbing his ear and opening and closing his jaw. His eyes were hidden behind large dark sunglasses, but Hayley could tell by his posture that something was wrong.

  “Hey, Tremont.”

  “Hayley.” He stepped back and opened the door. He motioned for her to climb in.