Chapter 24
twenty-four
. . .
Grant
"Morning," I say, deliberately focusing on the contract revisions spread across my desk. "If this is about the Elle production, I already talked to—"
"This isn't about the production." Lucas drops into one of the chairs across from me and crosses one leg over the other. "This is about the wrap party for Pink Slip this weekend. The one you attended. The one I didn't know you were attending."
"And that's a problem?"
"I think it's interesting you happened to be on the lot. For a wrap party. On a weekend." Lucas's eyebrow inches higher.
I keep my face carefully neutral.
Lucas shakes his head. "I have a Google alert set up for anything involving you, and you're lucky it didn't blow up.
However, I did hear about your appearance from Monica in marketing, who heard it from her friend at Variety, who was apparently fascinated by how much time you spent talking to Sophia Ford. "
The pen in my hand stills. I'm calculating potential damage—not to myself, but to her.
Sophia's first major production. Her first time producing.
One wrong move, one misinterpreted interaction, could destroy everything she's worked for.
This proves that it's a bad idea for us to go any further than we've already gone.
"It was a party, Lucas. People talk at parties."
"People do talk at parties," he agrees mildly. "They also notice things, like how you swooped in to rescue her from Blaze Winters or how you both were deeply entrenched in conversation for twenty minutes after that."
Shit. I didn't think it would seem unusual. I'd been careful—or thought I had been. But more importantly, I'd been protective. Blaze has a reputation, and Sophia doesn't need that kind of attention.
"Is there a point to this?" I ask, though I know exactly where this is going.
Lucas leans forward and gives me his serious face. "Grant, you know I respect your privacy. Whatever is or isn't happening between you and Sophia is your business, but my job is to protect you and this studio from any PR disasters, and I can't do that if I'm blindsided."
The word "disasters" echoes in my mind. But I'm not thinking about potential damage to me. I'm thinking about Sophia—how vulnerable she is right now, how much this could cost her.
"There's nothing to be blindsided by." The words taste like lies, like protection.
"Really?" He scrolls through his tablet. "Because I have three different people who described your intervention with Blaze as, and I quote, 'territorial,' 'possessive,' and my personal favorite, 'like watching a lion mark its territory but in Armani.'"
I pinch the bridge of my nose. My first instinct is to pull back, to create distance, to protect her from any potential fallout. "It wasn't like that. I wasn't even in a suit."
"That's not the point," Lucas says gently. "Perception is reality in this business, and you know that better than anyone. If something is happening—"
"It's not," I say, cutting him off, too sharply. What I really mean is, not if it means risking her career. Not if it means potentially destroying everything she's worked for. I won't let whatever feelings I seem to have ruin what she's worked so hard for.
"Ok." He holds up his hands in surrender. "Then let me rephrase. If something were to happen, hypothetically, with an Oscar-winning actress who's currently starring in our biggest production of the year…I'd appreciate a heads-up so I can do my job. So I can protect you both."
The silence stretches between us. Lucas waits, patient as ever, while I wage an internal war with myself. Finally, I say, "There's nothing to protect. We're professionals. That's all."
Lucas stands, straightening his jacket. "Of course." He heads for the door and then pauses. "Just…remember that I'm on your side, Grant. Always have been."
Lucas is right—he's always had my back—but how can I explain something to him that I can't even explain to myself?
I reach for my phone, and my thumb hovers over Sophia's name in my recent calls.
Before I can follow through, my assistant's voice crackles through the intercom. "Mr. Hall? Geneva is here to see you."
Shit.
The door opens before I can even respond, and there she is—still impossibly tall, still making casual clothes look runway-ready.
"Grant," Geneva says, gliding into my office like it hasn't been three months since we've seen each other in person. "Don't tell me you forgot I was coming."
"Of course not," I lie, standing to give her a quick hug and peck on the cheek. "Just lost track of days. You look great."
"Liar." She drops gracefully onto my office couch and crosses those famous legs. "But I'll take the compliment. How are things?"
I fill her in on all things Hazel and the schedule for the week so we can coordinate drop-off and pick-up.
"I know I said I'd take her full-time from Thursday through Sunday, but I just found out I have this charity thing Thursday night, so any chance we can shift to Friday through Sunday?"
Project Teddy Bear Gala, which I'm supposed to attend. Where Sophia is presenting an award.
"Yeah, about that…" I settle into the chair across from her. "I'll actually be there, too. Studio obligation."
"Any chance your sister might help?" Geneva grins, knowing she will.
"Yeah, she'll be fine to watch her."
"I'll have her every other moment I'm here, I promise. Anything new with her I should know?"
I can't help smiling. "Apparently, she's going to audition for the school play."
"Really?" Geneva's perfectly shaped eyebrows shoot up.
"I guess. She's recruited help for her audition. From Sophia Ford."
"The Sophia Ford?" Geneva leans forward slightly. "Oscar-winner Sophia Ford is helping our six-year-old with her school musical audition?"
"She's producing and starring in one of our new projects," I explain, keeping my voice carefully casual. "Her house flooded the first week of production, so I offered to let her stay in the guest house while she waits for repairs. Hazel asked for her help this morning."
"That's…surprisingly sweet." Geneva tilts her head. "And very convenient for you, having her right there to help."
"It's been productive." I resist the urge to loosen my tie. "She's good with Hazel."
Geneva's smile softens. "You always did know how to pick good people to have around her." She stands and smooths her dress. "Well, I should let you get back to work. I guess I'll see you Thursday night. And Grant?"
"Hmm?"
"You're a good father and person. The way you've managed all this—your career, Hazel, keeping good people around her, being supportive of me—you're doing it right."
Something in my chest tightens. If she only knew how complicated I've made things, how I'm risking everything by falling for Sophia.
"Thanks, Gen." I clear my throat. "Oh, and on Thursday, Sophia will be there, too. Presenting an award."
"Well, then." Geneva grins. "I look forward to meeting the woman who's going to turn our daughter into a star. Think she'd give me some acting tips? I have this perfume campaign coming up…"
I laugh, grateful for how easy this is, how uncomplicated. "I'm sure she'd be happy to help."
She's already heading for the door, phone in hand. “I can’t wait to meet her then. Kisses!"
The door closes behind her, and I sink back into my chair. Thursday night. Sophia. Geneva. All in one room.
I reach for my phone again. I should warn Sophia, prepare her, but what would I even say?
Hey, you know how we can't seem to stay away from each other? Well, my extremely perceptive ex is about to spend an entire evening watching us pretend we barely know each other.
Instead, I pull up Lucas's number. Maybe he was right about needing a heads-up for these things because something tells me that Thursday night is going to be interesting.