Chapter 40 Monk
FORTY
Monk
Something twists in my chest as I watch her disappear and wait my turn in the queue of cars.
Judging by the way half the men gathered out front can’t keep their eyes off her, it’s going to be a long night.
I try to ignore the surge of possessiveness, the primal instinct to hiss and bare my teeth at anyone who might take what’s mine.
But she’s not mine.
“You did this to yourself,” I mutter under my breath, handing the valet my keys. “You came up with this stupid arrangement.”
When I enter the hotel lobby, the elevator doors are closing, but someone holds them for me.
“Thanks,” I say, stepping in, only to roll my eyes when I see who caught the doors. “Well, damn. I thought I’d have at least a few more days before you started disturbing my peace again.”
“Happy New Year to you, too, Monk.” Jill grins, bright blond hair slicked back and her colorful tattoos on display in a sleeveless party dress. “I thought you’d be in some other country for the holidays.”
“Not this year.” I greet her with a hug before turning to the tall, quiet man beside her. “Good to see you again, Seth.”
Jill’s husband nods. “Happy New Year, Bellamy.”
Seth is one of those call men by their last name kind of dudes.
His smile is much more subdued than Jill’s.
His everything is much more subdued than hers, which seems to be why they work.
She’s the sunshine to his grumpy. He’s the tech bro to her creative, but in fifteen years, they’ve made three beautiful kids and a wonderful life together.
Marriages like theirs surviving, thriving, especially in Hollywood, are rare.
“So can I expect the entire Dessi cast and crew here tonight?” I ask. “Or just you?”
“Galaxy invited a lot of the above-the-line team,” Jill says, “so probably some. I did see Lawson Stone and Linh arrive as we were pulling in. At first I thought Lawson was another studio exec setting his family up with a job someone else deserved, that he probably forced Canon to use Linh. But then I saw her work. She’s incredibly talented. ”
“So is her father,” I say, smiling at the memory of Dr. Garrison’s Chap Brody exhibit at Finley. “So the kids let you two out tonight?”
“Those little monsters. The grans are in town from Chicago, God bless.” Jill fist-pumps the air. “So we get to dress up and drink.”
“Not too much drink,” Seth rumbles from the corner of the elevator. “Remember what happened last New Year’s Eve. I’m pretty sure we’re banned at the Grove.”
“Who wants to do repeats anyway?” Jill asks with a wink. “You heard from Canon? Think he’ll show?”
“I don’t think so. Not tonight,” I reply as we exit the elevator and step onto the rooftop, where Galaxy Studios’ New Year’s Eve party is already in full swing.
“We spoke briefly on Christmas and he was with his mom’s people in San Diego.
I think he wanted to get out of town for a few days before we’re back on set, though. ”
I give our names to the young woman at the rooftop entrance checking the guest list on her iPad.
We make our way over to one of the bistro tables loaded with an array of heavy hors d’oeuvres. My attention is split between our table and the rest of the rooftop while I surreptitiously scan the crowd for a woman wearing glittery gold.
Jill tips her head toward the pool, which is lined with tables, lounge chairs, and cabanas. “I see Verity’s here tonight.”
My head swings around and I search the pool area before I can catch myself.
I spot her immediately. She’s talking with a guy I don’t know.
Some light-skinned dude with green eyes.
We aren’t close enough for me to discern the exact eye color, but I just know they’re green.
He gestures toward an empty table and she sits down, still laughing at whatever goofy shit he said.
I just know it’s goofy.
I turn back to the table and draw in a deep breath. A long night indeed.
“Which one is Verity?” Seth asks, glancing toward the pool.
“The one in the gold dress, with the curly hair,” Jill says. “Sitting with the model-looking guy.”
“That guy? A model?” I scoff. “Catalog at best.”
“Okayyyyy.” Seth flicks a glance toward the pool. “You have a thing for her?”
“No,” I say firmly. “But your wife thinks I do, and she won’t let it go.”
“So you don’t mind that he just asked Verity to dance?” Jill widens her eyes guilelessly. “Or that his hand is on her—”
My head whips back around to the pool, where Verity and JCPenney are still seated at the table. Not dancing with inappropriate hand placement.
“Got ya!” Jill laughs. “Are you ever gonna tell me the deal with her? I know you two dated in college.”
“It was a long time ago.” I stand, feeling exposed. “I’m headed to the bar. You guys want anything?”
I order Old-Fashioneds for Seth and me, and something frothy and New Year’s–themed for Jill. By the time I return to the table, Verity has joined them, and I smell Jill’s involvement getting her here.
I pause, taking a beat to gather my wits so Jill doesn’t trip me up. She’s a wily thing, and has a way of ferreting out information that is none of her damn business. Verity and I were definitely right to keep our arrangement on the low.
“Sorry it took a while.” I set the drinks down. “Bar was a zoo.”
“Thank you,” Jill says, accepting her pastel cocktail. “Look who joined us. Verity.”
“I see,” I reply in a neutral tone, barely sparing Verity a glance when I sit across from her. “Hey, Vee.”
“Hey.” She offers a stiff smile, and you’d never know those pretty lips were wrapped around my dick a few hours ago. “Happy New Year.”
I glance at my watch. “I think we have about an hour before we can say that officially.”
“Right.” Verity toys with one of the noisemakers on our table.
“I was just saying I can’t wait to get back on set.” Jill bounces her gaze between the two of us. “Verity, you were telling Seth about Dessi and Cal’s time in Europe.”
“Oh yeah!” Verity glances up, her eyes lit with sudden interest and her shoulders visibly relaxing.
“The next part we’re shooting is when they leave the States to perform with Cal’s band all over Europe.
They go before the war breaks out, but they stay for years.
Even performing for the troops many times once the war starts. Especially in London.”
Seth is just as much a history buff as Verity, and they geek out for the next few minutes.
For every fact Verity drops, Seth has three to five follow-up questions.
My eyes would typically be glazing over by now, but I love watching Verity in her element.
Her face lights up when she discusses things she’s passionate about. And her natural reserve evaporates.
She and I have barely exchanged a word since she sat down, but there is an awareness, ever present and electric, that thrums in the space between us. I’m attuned to her husky laughter and the citrus scent of her perfume.
“Okay,” Jill says, slamming her glass on the table and standing. “Enough nerd people talk. It’s a party, bitches!”
“I knew it.” Seth picks up Jill’s empty glass and sniffs. “Vodka. Sets her off every time.”
“Dance with me.” Jill grabs Seth’s arm and drags him to his feet. “They’re playing our song.”
“‘Vision of Love’ is not our song,” Seth says wryly, but doesn’t resist Jill’s coaxing.
“We’ll be back,” Jill says over her shoulder, widening her eyes and looking meaningfully at Verity.
Wow. Subtle.
Verity and I have never danced with each other. Not for real.
“I loved this album,” Verity says, offering me a shy smile, which pushes me over the edge because I know what’s beneath that shyness, and most never will.
She’s swaying slightly in her seat. It would be perfectly natural for me to ask if she wants to—
“Verity, here you are,” JCPenney model says, approaching with a hopeful smile. “I was looking for you. Wanna dance?”
Light-skinned, green-eyed motherfucker. I knew it.
“Oh, Phillip,” Verity says, looking over to me and then back to him. “Hey.”
“Sorry I got pulled away.” He finally notices me, and the hope in his eyes flickers into uncertainty. “Oh, but if you two—”
“No,” Verity and I say in unison.
Even though I said it, too, her quick denial kind of pisses me off.
“No,” Verity says again, more evenly. “Monk and I are just…”
She holds my gaze for a few charged seconds and then looks back up at Phillip with a smile.
“We’re just old friends.” She stands, and the gold dress spills over her curves like stardust. “I’d love to dance.”
Phillip looks like he just won the lottery and takes Verity’s hand to lead her away.
“Um, nice to meet you,” he mumbles, paying me a cursory glance as they go.
“I’ll be back,” Verity says, looking over her shoulder and searching my face. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
“Nah.” I take a long draw of my old-fashioned. “It’s almost midnight.”
She nods and follows Phillip onto the floor.
I refuse to watch her dance with this guy. I hate that it bothers me. I hate that after all these years, even with the rules laid out clearly, and her playing by them, that it’s a knife in my gut when I see anyone else touch her.
“Sounds like a you problem, Bellamy,” I mutter.
“I thought that was you.”
I look up and have to orient myself for a second, not used to seeing Olivia Ware outside of the movie set.
“Livvie,” I say, finding a smile from somewhere. “Hey. Seems like half the cast is here tonight.”
“Good food and good booze,” she says, pausing and smiling at me. “Good company.”
“Not sure I’m that tonight.” I gesture to the empty table. “But you’re welcome to join me.”
“Actually…” Livvie traces a finger over the tablecloth. “I was hoping you’d dance with me?”
Mariah Carey’s just finished the first verse of “Vision of Love,” so there’s plenty of song left. Why the hell not?
I guide Livvie out to the floor. She’s a beautiful woman, with her deep brown skin and pixie haircut.
Funny, too. If I could stop searching the dance floor for Verity long enough to pay attention to what Livvie is saying, I’m sure I’d enjoy her conversation.
Finally I spot the flash of copper and gold sprinkled into the crowd as JCPenney—Phillip—leads Verity across the floor.
Her eyes lock with mine over his shoulder, and I wish we hadn’t come.
Instead of being on opposite sides of the room dancing with strangers, we could be at my place watching some movie she knows by heart.
We could be ringing in the New Year in my bed.
We could be together.
Once the song ends, there’s polite applause as the chairman of Galaxy Studios takes the stage at the far end of the rooftop.
“Thank you all for coming,” he says, eyes slightly glassy like he’s several scotches into a good time. “We’ve had one of our best years, and with so many amazing projects on our docket, this next one promises to be the greatest yet!”
He drones on, and I glance at my watch, wondering when I can slip away. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to read the text that came over.
Verity: Meet me behind Cabana #4.
I look around, searching the crowd for bright gold. I spot Phillip on the room’s periphery, alone and looking like somebody stole his dog.
Or his dance partner.
I start stepping away before I’ve had time to process her request.
“Oh, wait.” Livvie stops me with a hand on my arm, her pretty face telegraphing disappointment. “You’re leaving?”
“Bathroom,” I whisper so I won’t be heard over the blah, blah, blah show Galaxy’s chairman is giving onstage.
I pick my way through the crowd with as little disruption as possible and head for the line of numbered cabanas along the pool’s edge. Glancing over my shoulder like someone might stop me, I try the door, which is locked.
“I said behind the cabana,” a disembodied voice hisses.
Grinning, I poke my head around the corner, behind the cabana. It’s semi-dark, but I can easily make out the shimmer of Verity’s dress and the vibrance of her smile.
“Hi,” she says, folding her hands in front of her like she’s not sure what to do with them. Like now that she has me here, she’s not sure what to do with me.
“Hi, yourself.” I step closer until we’re both hidden from the party’s view between the back of the cabana and a wall. “You didn’t want to count in the New Year with El DeBarge?”
She sputters a laugh and rolls her eyes. “Phillip doesn’t look anything like El DeBarge. His eyes are green, for one thing.”
“Oh, so you noticed that.”
“And you, um…” She looks down at the ground. “I saw you dancing with Livvie. I’m not surprised.”
“Why do you say that?”
She casts her eyes up to the stars, exasperation in the face she makes. “God, men are so oblivious sometimes. Livvie has a thing for you.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Uh, yeah, she does. Every time they yell ‘cut,’ she manages to find you if you’re on set that day.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was jealous, but I do know better. Verity’s never been that type.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I say.
“Exactly.” Verity chafes her arms against the cool night air. “Oblivious.”
“You cold? Take my coat.” I remove the tuxedo jacket and drape it around her shoulders. She doesn’t object, pulling the lapels closed at her throat as the countdown from the party reaches us.
Ten, nine, eight…
“It’s almost a new year,” Verity whispers, stepping closer and looking up at me. I reach beneath my coat to spread my hands over her back and down to cup her ass. She tips up and leaves kisses along my jaw with each descending number.
“Three.”
Kiss.
“Two.”
Kiss.
“One.”
“Happy New Year!”
The chorus of well-wishes blends with the first notes of “Auld Lang Syne.”
“Happy New Year, Monk,” Verity breathes across my lips.
“Happy New Year, Vee.” I dip and close the gap between our mouths, and the kiss is hot and bright, rivaling the spray of light illuminating the night sky as the pyrotechnics explode in the distance.
My hands tighten at her waist, and I want to hold on to her and to this moment as long as I possibly can.
“We’re missing the fireworks,” Verity says, smiling into our kiss. We sway in each other’s arms to the refrain of a new year, the sound of a fresh start.
I shake my head and cup her face, leaning in for another kiss.
“No, we’re not.”