Chapter 25
“Am I dreaming?” I whisper. Nate is standing beside me in the magnificent lobby of this theater, both of us holding a flute of champagne. Around us are such glamorous and fashionable people that I’m trying to take mental snapshots from every angle.
One of my favorite period actresses is standing just thirty measly feet away. Talking, smiling, hair in a messy bun, and wearing a slinky yellow dress. Her skin looks like it could have been airbrushed. I wonder if she’s wearing the body makeup I’ve heard about on social media.
“I think I’m dreaming,” I state. “Yes, I am.”
Nate chuckles softly. “You’re not.”
“I’m going to have to add attend a movie premiere to my list of things, just so I can tick this off. This undeniably qualifies as an insane new experience.”
“I’m glad,” he says, and his voice sounds smug. “Figured you’d like this night. And the main event hasn’t even begun.”
“Were you planning on bringing someone else here?” I ask hesitantly. “And things fell through?”
His eyebrows furrow. “Well… No.”
“How’d you get tickets to this?”
“I pulled a few strings,” he says.
“Did you… did it… you were going here anyway,” I guess. “And you had an extra ticket?”
Nate’s eyes are steady on mine. “No.”
I have to swallow. “Oh.”
“You love these stories so much, you wanted to visit their filming locations.” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Plus, I look damn good in a tux. It’s a win-win.”
That makes me giggle. “You do, actually. It’s practically criminal.”
“And we can’t always be in a rowboat on a pond. Or in the pond. Sometimes, we do things like this.” His lips curve. “Don’t worry, Harp. Tomorrow, we’ll be back in the townhouse with Quincy and Stanley. Did you hear from Richard?”
“Yes, he’s coming home tomorrow. I’m looking forward to seeing him.” But then I shake my head. If he hadn’t been planning on going here, if he didn’t have another date, if this was a last-minute thing… He did this just for me? “Wait, how did you get these tickets, then?”
“There are strings. I pulled on them.”
“Do I even want to know?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he drawls and takes a slow sip of his champagne. “It would mean implicating you in some criminal secrets, and I?—”
“What?”
He grins. “I made a phone call and donated some money to a charity. It wasn’t hard, Harper. Getting access never is.”
“Not when you’re Nate Connovan,” I say.
He holds out his arm. “There has to be some perks to my miserable existence. Come on. Let’s try to mingle our way to the most famous person in the room.”
By the time the bells ring, and everyone enters the theater to take their seats, I feel almost giddy. I’ve spoken to three actors, two of whom I’ve loved for years. Each of them was both shorter and skinnier in person. I guess there’s some truth to that saying about the camera adding a few pounds.
Practically vibrating with excitement, I settle into the seat with Nate on my right. The director of the film is here, and he and the actors speak on stage for a solid ten minutes before the movie starts to roll.
Someone regularly tops up our champagne as we watch. Offers us various snacks and hors d’oeuvres.
I’ll never be able to go to a normal movie theater again.
When the movie ends, everyone applauds. People rise, and I quickly do the same. I brush my palm over my cheek to wipe away the tear that slipped out during the conclusion. Elinor’s response to Edward at the end of the story always makes me emotional.
“You loved it,” Nate murmurs at my side.
I nod quickly. “Yes. They’d… they’d captured the essence so well. Cut some scenes of course, but they really got the two love stories down.”
There’s an after-party, held in an adjoining ballroom. The walls are beautifully ornate in a way that only old European buildings can be. Intricate chandeliers and soft candlelight set the room aglow, and the same smiling waiters come by, offering more refreshments. I spot a singer I regularly listen to during my workouts. And a director who made my mom’s favorite movie.
We’re chatting with a few other couples about the movie when Nate spots someone he knows and is drawn away. Even left on my own for a few minutes, I find myself enjoying the conversation with these fabulous unnamed people. I bask in all of it—the atmosphere, the company—and even as I’m doing it, I remind myself of what an incredible life I’m living. How happy I am to be here, in this city, and to have a friend as good as Nate.
How happy I am to be my own woman again.
“Oh, there you are,” one of the women addresses the newcomer to our group. My eyes widen when I see who it is. I try to hide my shock, but it’s hard, unexpectedly coming face-to-face with the world-renowned action movie star.
He’s not some B-lister. Not “sort of famous.” He’s literally one of the world’s biggest celebrities, and even if his movies aren’t to my personal taste, I still feel awestruck by suddenly seeing him in person.
And somehow he ends up standing right next to me.
Talking to me. Asking me what I do for a living.
“So you’re an art expert,” he says in a voice familiar to me from countless movies and commercials I’ve seen since I was a little girl. “Tell me about your favorite painting.”
The question makes me blink. What? But I do my best to answer, and he nods, listening to every word with a lazy smile on his lips. He looks older in person than he does on screen. Thinner, too, and shorter, just like the other actors here. It feels like I’m having an out of body experience.
He’s so close, I smell his aftershave.
“I’m shooting at Pinewood for a few months.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. We should meet up. I could show you around,” he says, and the wide smile gets even wider. His teeth are all perfectly even, and so white, they’re dazzling. I wonder if he has veneers, and the real teeth hidden behind the custom-made shells are filed to sharp vampire points.
“Uh, yeah. Maybe,” I say. “That might be fun.”
I give him my number in a daze, and then he’s off with another wide smile in my direction. I’m left with a glass of champagne and a feeling of what just happened? while watching Nate make his approach through the crowd. He looks tall and broad, just as I’ve always seen him, and not shrunken down like the others.
His eyebrows are drawn together. “Was that Austin Silver?”
“Yes.”
“Jeez.”
“Yeah, I know. He asked for my number, to hang out sometime,” I say with a laugh. The entire thing still feels surreal. “Can you imagine?”
Nate’s eyes sharpen. “He did what?”
“I think I just got hit on.” I shake my head while giggling. “Wow. I don’t know who he thinks he is, at his age… Well, to be fair, I know exactly who he is. And clearly he does, too.”
“You’re going out with Austin Silver?” Nate asks. His voice sounds tense.
I laugh. “Good God, no! Never. He’s ancient, and he’s my stepdad’s favorite actor. I saw his first action movie when I was… what? Nine? Absolutely not.”
Nate’s mouth softens into a reluctant smirk. “He’s ancient?”
“Yes.”
His voice becomes dangerous. “I believe he’s only seven years older than me.”
Oh.
“Well, sorry to say it, but that practically makes him Crypt Keeper. Ancient news. Far, far too old for me to be interested in.”
The corners of Nate’s mouth tip up, and his eyes twinkle. “Is that so?”
“Yes. It would be like kissing a corpse.”
“Kissing a corpse,” he repeats and steps closer. I shiver at the nearness. “Funny you’d say that, Harp. What does that make you?”
“I’ve never kissed Austin Silver,” I breathe.
“No. And you never will,” he says. “But you have kissed me.”
My breath catches. “Have I? I can barely remember.”
His eyes flash in amusement, and then he grabs my hand. Pulls me through the crowd. I hurry to stay in step. My beautiful green dress is flared around my legs, but it only starts to widen at my thighs, and I can’t keep up with his long strides.
“Where are we going?”
“I have one final accessory for you. To complete the outfit,” he says. He weaves by a group of laughing people near the exit to a hallway leading to the restrooms. When we make our way through, he looks at the signage until he finds one that has a discreet staff only written on it.
He opens the door like he owns the place.
It’s a janitorial closet, and Nate pulls me inside before shutting the door firmly behind us.
My heart is pounding in exhilaration. “I think we’re going to get busted,” I say. “In five, four, three…”
He shakes his head and turns so his back is to the door, blocking anyone from opening it. “We’re not,” he says. With nothing but a dim overhead light, his eyes glint. “So you don’t remember kissing me, do you?”
Ever so slightly, I shake my head. “Almost not at all.”
“I think you’re lying,” Nate says, his large hand finding my waist. He pulls me to him until the silk of my dress scrunches against his tux. “But I’ll remind you, just in case.”
His mouth hovers over mine for a single delicious second. Then, he makes contact, and my eyes flutter closed. Oh. He kisses me with warm lips, practiced movements, and his arms circle my waist.
Without the irrational anger that we both felt the night of his party…
I melt against him. He’s good at this, at these slow, deep, powerful kisses that entirely rob me of my breath. Liquid heat pours down from the press of his lips, spreading through my limbs. Pooling in my stomach.
Nate moves a hand to cup my face. His tongue runs along my lower lip, and I open on instinct. He deepens the kiss, and I rake my fingers through his hair, twisting, tightening my grip.
He groans into my mouth.
“Harper,” he murmurs against my lips. “Tell me you want an adventure tonight.”
I rise up on my tiptoes. Brush my mouth over his jaw. “I want an adventure tonight.”
He groans again and releases his hold on me. But his eyes tell me this is far from over. “Good,” he mutters and reaches inside his tux jacket. “I have one final accessory for you, baby.”
I stare at the small velvet pouch in his hand. My mind feels blank. Matching earrings? What is this?
But then, he empties the contents onto his palm, and everything inside me tightens. It’s a small silicon toy.
Bulbous on one end, with a small elongated piece that curves…
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
Nate’s smile flashes, and there’s pure heat in his eyes. He sinks to his knees before me and reaches for the hem of my dress, slowly pushing it up—baring my lower legs. My knees. My thighs.
“I’m going to punish you for calling me old,” he says. I reach down and grab the thick mass of my dress, helping him pull it over my hips. A fierce blush is spreading over my chest and neck, and my breaths are coming out hard. Like I’ve been running.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I whisper. But please don’t stop.
Nate braces one of his feet behind him, firmly holding it against the door to keep the entry shut. His hands are warm and slightly rough over my thighs, sliding up to grip the thong I’m wearing. Slowly, he pulls the garment halfway down my thighs.
I gasp when his hand slips between my legs.
“Look at this pussy,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on my bareness. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt quite this exposed before. “You’re wet.”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
He leans closer, like he intends to kiss me. There. But then, his shoulders tense, and he forces himself not to. Reaches for the toy instead.
“Spread your legs for me, baby… that’s it.” Then, his hand is there, stroking over my sensitive flesh before pressing the toy against my entrance. It slots into place, and the faint stretch makes me shiver.
“This will vibrate inside you,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles around my clit. His eyes on me, like he’s crafting a masterpiece. He fits the elongated piece to rest right over my clit, and I have to look down, at that pink silicon resting at the top of my slit.
He pulls my thong up, sealing it all in place.
The pressure against my clit is already delicious, the weight inside of me heavy and not entirely uncomfortable.
Nate pulls my dress down and rises, drawing me in for another kiss.
This one takes my breath away—there’s nothing controlled about it.
“I’ll handle the vibrations,” he says against my lips, “from my phone. No one will be able to hear them.”
“You’re sure?”
“Dead sure,” he mutters. “So, next time some movie star asks for your number, you’ll know exactly who will be making you almost orgasm in public.”
A shiver races down my arms. “You’re jealous again.”
“No,” he says, mouth trailing down my neck. “I know better than to be jealous of men like him. You don’t want him anyway.”
“No,” I breathe. “I don’t.”
Nate kisses the pulse on my neck before straightening. Takes my hand again, and pulls open the door. Bright light floods in, the sounds of music and voices, and we emerge back into a party for the rich and famous.
Releasing my hand, he wraps his right arm around my waist instead. Uses his left to unlock his phone. “This is for calling me old,” Nate says, and a second later, the toy begins to gently pulsate inside me… and against my clit. “Who says real men can’t vibrate?”
The shock of it nearly makes my steps falter.
But Nate is there, holding me, and urging me forward. His mouth by my ear. “There’s an investor here I need to talk to. Can you help me charm her and her husband?”
“I hate you,” I whisper. Sensations undulate through me with each soft vibration, surging with the memory of Nate’s lips on mine and his hands between my legs.
“I think that’s just the thing, baby. You don’t at all,” he says with a crooked smile. “Now come on. We’re going to have some fun.”