Chapter 17
seventeen
. . .
Sophia
I love the smell of margaritas and Mexican food.
Living in LA, there is no shortage of places to find both, but nothing beats an evening out at Casa Vega, where I can stuff my face with the best carne asada enchilada I've ever had.
Plus, the dark dining room is perfect for hiding in the shadows, although the place is usually buzzing with industry folks, so it's a talent-friendly place to go.
The Latin music in the background, mixed with the clattering of dishes being delivered to and taken away from tables, completes the laid back vibe.
I spot Brandon toward the back and give the hostess a brief wave and point, indicating my party is already here.
"Hey, beautiful. You are looking lovely this evening," Brandon says. He leans in for a kiss on the cheek. "All this for me?" He's such a flirt.
"Thank you. I had a scene today and took advantage of hair and makeup."
"You could at least pretend you are excited to see me."
Brandon is the kind of guy who turns heads without even trying—not just because he's built like an action hero, but because he carries himself like he knows exactly who he is.
At six feet tall, all lean muscle and effortless confidence, he moves with the controlled ease that comes from years of stunt work.
His brown hair is always slightly tousled like he just ran a hand through it after stepping off a motorcycle or out of bed, with both being equally likely.
Warm brown eyes gleam with mischief, always ready to catch the punchline before it lands.
I'm here to beg him to help me with some stunt blocking, but I also want him to play a firefighter role we still haven't cast yet.
"Honestly, I'm not sure how I've gone this long without seeing you. I think I'm dying a little on the inside."
"That's more like it. So, come on now. Spill it. Why am I here?"
"You could at least pretend you are excited to see me!" I mimic back to him. His bluntness is one of my favorite things about him. You never have to guess where you stand with him. He is clear about how he feels and what he wants. Just like someone else I know.
"You bring me to my favorite restaurant. You actually scheduled this dinner. You want something. I know you, my love."
Brandon signals to a server and orders us each a margarita on the rocks.
"Aren't you going to ask about my movie?"
I'm trying to stall a bit. I need to set this up first so he sees that this is a great opportunity for him, not a favor or a handout. He can be so prideful about work sometimes.
"Fine. How's the new movie? How's the handsome bossman? You still living together?"
I bring the cold glass to my lips to stall, savoring the rough pinch of salt on the rim as it mixes with the drink's sweet and sour taste. I ignore his question about living together.
"We're averaging about five pages a day. We're blocking for all interior shots first and then will go on location for the rest of it."
"Nice! Look at you showing everyone how it's done!"
I've loved it so far, but it's been tricky balancing my scenes with my production to-do list. Thankfully, the studio sent over an amazing PA to help me out. And my assistant, Jamie, is my lifeline.
"Honestly, Grant has been a tremendous support. Ever since he showed up on opening day and sat through the table read, everyone has been on their best behavior."
"Speak of the devil…" Brandon's gaze rises over the top of my head, and his professional smile creeps across his face—lips closed, eyes squinty.
I turn to see who he's looking at, and my breath stops.
Grant is headed this way, flanked by three other men.
One is Lucas. He hasn't noticed us yet, and I take the stolen moment to snake my eyes up and down Grant's body.
He's wearing his signature studio executive uniform—dark suit, white shirt, shiny shoes, and those sexy glasses.
Who knew guys who wear frames would turn me on so much?
My eyes linger on his hands and follow them as they rise to adjust those foxy lenses, and that is the moment that he catches me staring.
Surprise crosses his eyes, and then his gaze flits behind me and lands on Brandon.
I can see his mood change immediately. His smile drops, and his hands move to grip and adjust the lapels of his jacket.
"Give me just a minute. I'll be right over," he tells the men with him. "Sophia, good evening." He nods, his eyes glancing between Brandon and me.
"Hi, Grant. Great to see you. What are you doing here?"
"Work dinner. Nothing exciting. What about you?" His eyes land on Brandon again, and he's waiting for an introduction.
"Oh, I'm sorry. How rude. This is Brandon. He's a stunt actor, actually one of the best, and a good friend of mine. I'm here with a proposition for him, but I'm buying him dinner before I make the ask."
"I knew it!" Brandon glares at me before he stands to shake Grant's hand. "Great to meet you. I've heard fantastic things so far. Sophia loves working with you."
Grant looks surprised at the confession, but it's no secret I admire him. I've only told him a million times.
"I wish I could say she's mentioned you, but I feel the same about her. We're lucky to have her at Wonderland Studios."
There's a weird vibe I've not seen from Grant. Maybe this is another layer of his professional executive persona. Maybe it's the people he is dining with; maybe they are super boring, and he's dreading it.
"Well, I better get back to my table. Sophia, Brandon, enjoy your evening."
"You, too, Grant."
"Someone's got a crush on you," Brandon says, snapping me from my internal lust.
"What? No way."
"Yes way. He crushed my hand when he shook it. And the comment he made, 'wish I could say she mentioned you'—boy has it bad."
I search the room for his table, and when I spot him, he's staring at me. I let my eyes linger on his until he breaks contact and joins the conversation at his table.
I snap out of my drool session and steer this conversation in a different direction. The last thing I need is Brandon suspecting I have any real feelings for Grant. He'd latch on and never let it go.
"I think you are reading way too much into that. I mean, he's totally hot, but he's my boss! Plus, there's no way he'd go for someone as young as me. He's a single dad. We're in completely different stages of life."
"And are you still in the 'never going to date anyone' stage of life?"
"Stop it."
"I love you, Soph, but when are you going to move past the Connor thing? We all get hurt. It's like a rite of passage in relationships. You can't say you've ever had one unless you've been destroyed by one."
"Has one destroyed you?"
"At least monthly."
Brandon smirks at me. He loves love, but I'm not sure he's ever been in love. He has no problem finding dates, and I'm always amazed at how well he treats women. The relationship timeline with each one is short, and it's a gift how he maneuvers out of them with no drama.
I look back at Grant, but this time, it's Lucas's eyes that snag mine. He gives a nod and a smile, and while it's friendly, it feels protective, too, like maybe Brandon and Lucas see something Grant and I haven't quite noticed yet.
"Well, speaking of relationships, how would you feel about having another working one with me?"
"I knew it." Brandon shakes his head and digs into his dinner. "You know I can't say no to you. What is it this time?"
We dive into the rest of dinner while I tell him all about my vision for the stunts and his role. And I force myself to avoid looking over at Grant for the rest of the evening. Thank God I'm a well-trained actress.