Throb(70)

Miles catches my eyes as they linger on the empty seat at the next table for what must be the tenth time in the last hour. He forces a smile and I watch his eyes dart to the table I’m fixated on and back to me. No doubt he thinks I’m star struck looking at Tatiana Laroix or Benjamin Parker. I’m pretty sure the whole place is staring at one of the two of them.

There’s no denying that Tatiana Laroix is a beautiful woman. But tonight she’s beyond stunning—men and women both can’t stop staring. Her hair is done in that Roaring Twenties-era finger wave that is feminine and dramatic, yet somehow still appears slightly understated. The exact opposite of her dress. The daring cleavage-baring nude gown is cut to her navel, leaving the men in the room fixated on the effectiveness of double-sided tape. Knowing the empty seat is where Cooper will eventually sit, I find myself jealous even though he hasn’t stepped foot in the room yet.

Benjamin Parker costarred along side Tatiana in Perfect Sense, the upcoming film produced by Montgomery Productions. He’s young, handsome and has a penchant for jogging all over LA shirtless. The media eats up his every step. I’ve stolen glances at the interaction between the two, secretly wishing I’d find sexual tension. But all I’ve caught is Tatiana scanning the door and watching her watch.

I don’t need to turn around to know the moment Cooper walks into the room. I’d like to say it’s because I feel it in my heart, in my bones, a whisper touch alerting my skin to his arrival. But that’s not why at all. It’s the way Tatiana changes—her face lights up, eyes sparkle with devilish lust and the thrust of her already obvious overflowing breasts strain forward to show off even more. He’s not even near her yet and I’m spoon-fed a taste of the medicine Cooper was forced to swallow yesterday. Tonight is going to suck.

Cooper makes his rounds at the table, eventually coming to the only empty seat, next to Tatiana, just as the lights begin to flash, signaling the show is about to start. He never looks my way.

Twenty minutes later the cast from the show is ushered backstage to prepare for announcing the category we’re assigned. After seeing the size of the room and all of the famous faces, my nerves kick in on high. I’m grateful they picked Jessica and Flynn for the scripted banter and all I need to do is stand there and not pass out. Although right now I’m feeling even that may be a challenge.

“You okay?” Flynn sees my face and his turns concerned.

“I’m a little nervous. Can you tell?”

“Not really.” He grins, letting me know he’s lying.

I take a deep breath. “How do you do this all the time? Get up in front of a crowd and sing?”

He shrugs. “You get used to it.”

“Were you nervous when you first started?”

“Yep.” He smiles like he’s thinking back to a fond memory.

“What did you do to calm yourself?”

“Got shitfaced.”

“How’d that go?”

“I fell off the stage and had to get seven stitches in my head.”

“Think I’ll try some deep cleansing breaths instead.” I smile. “I just hope I don’t trip.”

The host announces our names over the loudspeaker, and a frantic woman with not one, but two headsets on barks orders into a walkie-talkie and shouts stage directions at us, and then we’re on. In the moment, I’m thankful that Flynn grabs my hand and walks me on stage, because my legs are wobbly with fear.

Jessica and Flynn ham it up for the cameras and, luckily, our five minutes of fame is over in less than three.

“You did great.”

“I stood there.”

“You didn’t fall.”

“Because you held my hand.”

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” Flynn kisses my nose and flashes his dimples. Twenty minutes later we’re escorted back to our seats during an intermission.

People are up and mingling, Cooper is talking to the director right behind my seat.

“Hey,” Flynn says with a friendly smile and extends his hand toward Cooper. “Flynn Beckham. We met at the …”

“I remember.” Cooper dismisses him and turns to me.

“Kate.” He nods and tosses back the contents of his short glass in one large gulp.

“Cooper.” I follow his lead, mimicking his distant greeting.

Tatiana slinks up beside Cooper and hooks her arms through his. “Hey, lovebirds. How’s the show going?”

Flynn casually wraps his arm around my waist and smiles. “Can’t tell you any secrets.” He looks at me, then back to Tatiana and winks. “But it’s going great.”