Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zita could not fucking believe that Carmen was here. And looking at Sage as if he was some kind of prize at the bottom of a box of kids’ cereal.
How the hell had the woman known where he’d be tonight?
Did she know Zita would be with him? And Carmen had brought that creepy bodyguard, Silas Graves, who followed her everywhere.
She didn’t begrudge the actress having someone at her back, but Silas always had a gleam in his eye that made Zita nervous.
Like he was looking for a confrontation so he’d have a reason to be violent.
She’d seen him literally knock one of the caterers away from Carmen because she came too close when telling her how much she enjoyed her movies.
The woman had gone flying, tripping over a table and knocking all the food to the floor.
Silas didn’t apologize. No, he’d had a satisfied look on his face as he led Carmen away from the mess.
Zita’s hand dropped from Sage’s leg, and she schooled her expression so none of her thoughts showed…
she hoped. She hadn’t known Carmen long, but she’d met plenty of women exactly like her.
Spoiled, conceited, and used to getting whatever they wanted because of their money and looks.
And just as she’d warned Sage, what Carmen wanted was him.
It wasn’t as if Zita could even blame her. Sage was impressive. And sitting with his equally impressive friends, wearing civilian clothes, looking relaxed and happy…yeah, there was no way in hell Carmen wasn’t going to take her best shot at dragging Sage back to her hotel room.
Tonight, she was wearing a short, tight black miniskirt that looked painted on.
It showcased her long, toned legs and left very little to the imagination.
If she had to bend over for any reason, she’d surely flash her cooter to everyone in the room.
But then again, it was likely if she dropped anything, someone else would pick it up for her.
And if she did lean over, it would be for the express purpose of having sex.
Her blouse was white and sheer and clearly showed the white bra she wore underneath. Her makeup was done with a heavy hand, and the bright red high heels on her feet pushed her height over six feet. She was dressed more for a night club than a rundown hole-in-the-wall bar like Anchor Point.
But it wasn’t surprising that Carmen didn’t look one bit like she felt out of place. She’d walked in as if she owned the place, and probably thought she did.
“Hi!” she said perkily. “Looks like we both had the idea of checking out the local nightlife. This place is so…quaint. Is there room for me at the table?”
No one moved for a moment. No one said a word. It was obvious there wasn’t room. The tables that had been pushed together weren’t huge to begin with, and everyone was crowded around in the chairs they’d pulled up, so they could all talk without having to yell at each other.
“Silas? Will you find me a chair?” Carmen ordered, as she turned to the hulking, muscular man next to her.
To Zita’s shock, he stalked up to the table next to theirs and growled, “Move,” as he put his hand on the back of a chair where a young woman was already sitting. She was obviously out with a group of girlfriends, and they were laughing and giggling and having a good time in each other’s company.
Without waiting for her to do as he said, Silas basically pulled the chair out from under her, forcing the woman to either stand and give up her chair or fall to the floor. He walked back over to Carmen and set the chair down with a nod.
“What the absolute fuck?” Sage growled, as he surged to his feet. The rest of the guys around the table did the same, everyone looking pissed beyond belief.
Sage glared at Silas, then picked up his own chair and carried it over to the other table, apologizing to the woman before returning to his friends and Zita. While he was gone, Casper had walked over to an empty table not that far away to get a replacement chair.
“Sorry, this is a private party,” Sage told Carmen, not sounding sorry in the least. He gave Casper a nod in thanks and sat down.
Carmen simply pretended like she hadn’t heard him, smiled, then pulled up the chair her bodyguard had stolen, trying to wedge it between Sage and Zita.
She sat daintily, her knees to one side—which didn’t keep her from almost exposing her underwear…
if she was wearing any—and shot Sage a seductive grin.
“Hi,” she repeated.
Zita was pissed. But she wasn’t the kind of woman to make a scene. Though, she also wasn’t about to move from her spot next to Sage. Their knees were almost touching, and Carmen trying to shove herself between them was annoying at best.
Rude, presumptuous, and fucking bitchy as hell, at worst.
To her surprise, Sage reached out and grabbed Zita’s hand, which had been on his knee a moment ago, and brought it back to his leg, placing it on his thigh this time.
He kept his hand over hers. She wasn’t sure if he was telling her nonverbally not to leave him with Carmen or if he was staking a claim.
It didn’t really matter, Zita had no intention of letting the bitch who’d crashed their date have her way.
“What are you doing here?” Sage asked between clenched teeth.
The rest of his friends were silent, watching the scene play out.
Probably trying to figure out what was happening.
They were also probably a little in awe that Carmen St. James was sitting at their table.
Was right there within touching distance.
That happened a lot with the actors and actresses Zita worked with.
People tended to be dazzled by them whenever they were in close proximity.
Outside of Hollywood, it wasn’t often people had the chance to be up close and personal with someone famous.
“I heard you were going to be here, and I wanted to see if you’d like some company. It’s kind of…lame, don’t you think?”
“Who told you I was going to be here? And no, it’s not lame. It’s laid-back. Relaxing. Which is what most people need after a long day’s work.”
“It’s more fun to blow off steam by dancing to techno music at a club until you’re so tired, you fall asleep the second your head hits the pillow.
Then again, there are other ways to exhaust yourself that are much more…
satisfying.” She winked when she said it, and leaned forward, running a hand down Sage’s arm.
The same arm that was attached to the hand covering Zita’s own, on his thigh.
The nerve of this woman was off the charts.
“How did you know I’d be here?” Sage asked again.
Carmen sat back in her chair with a small smile. “Oh, you know how film sets are…Actually, you probably don’t. Nothing is private. Everyone knows everything. Who’s sleeping with who, who’s allergic to what. Who has the hots for who.”
“How?” Sage bit out, obviously at the edge of his control.
“My hairdresser’s dating one of the set directors, who knows one of the boom operators who was taking a smoke break when you were talking about coming here tonight.”
“Ears everywhere,” Chaos muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Sage’s lips pressed together. He wasn’t happy that his conversation with Zita had been passed on to Carmen, that was for sure.
Without warning, he stood, still holding Zita’s hand, giving her no choice but to stand with him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and sidled away from where Carmen was sitting. He didn’t say a word as he led her away from the table…away from Carmen.
“Sage?”
“Give me a minute,” he said between clenched teeth.
Seeing how hard he was working to hold on to his temper, Zita swallowed what she was going to ask—namely, if he was all right; it was obvious he wasn’t all right—and didn’t resist as he walked them toward the hallway where the restrooms were located.
He didn’t stop. Just kept walking until he’d pushed open an emergency door, and they stepped out into the dark night.
There weren’t as many lights out here as there were in the parking lot, but it wasn’t dark either. There was a bright light over by the dumpsters, which lit up most of the area behind the building.
Sage leaned a shoulder against the building and pulled Zita in front of him.
He turned her so her back was against his chest, then wrapped his arms around her, holding them together.
Zita put her hands over his and leaned against him.
His chin came down to rest on her shoulder, and she could feel him taking deep breaths.
She had to admit, she approved of the way he’d removed himself from a situation that was uncomfortable instead of lashing out.
Instead of saying something he might regret.
She had no idea if he’d learned that from being in the military, or from being one of the best pilots in the country, but she was impressed with his self-control.
“You know I had nothing to do with her being here tonight, right?” he asked, after a long moment.
“Yes.”
“I might’ve been a bonehead and invited you on a group date, but I wouldn’t invite that woman to join us even if my career as a Night Stalker depended on it.”
That surprised her.
Zita turned so she was facing Sage. She put her hands on his chest, liking how his arms stayed around her, now clasped together loosely at her back. At any time, she could break out of his hold, but she was happy where she was.
“I’m enjoying our group date,” she insisted. “I like your friends. You all complement each other perfectly. I can see why you like working together so much, why you’re so good at what you do. It almost seems as if you can read each other’s minds at times.