Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
“ Y ou…write…the… Dragon Games …books.” Jenny spaced out the words with a puff of air between them.
Mallory grinned. “I do.”
Jenny beamed at Dylan. “How did you know I love Mallory Park? I just finished her series.”
Dylan opened his palms. “How would I know what you’re reading?”
His sister bounced up. Moving to the doorway, she said, “You have to sign my copies.”
“Does she?” Dylan asked.
Jenny glared at him with full sisterly energy. “If I want them to quadruple in value, yes.” She put her palm over her heart. “But I’d never sell them,” she said, her dark-brown eyes wide and sincere.
Jenny left the room, with her mom smiling indulgently, and leaving Dylan with questions in his eyes. “How big are your books?”
Mallory opened her palms. “Depends on your love of dragons.”
Jenny returned, her eyes gleaming with eagerness. “Are you here about the movie rights?”
Dylan blinked. “Movie rights?” He got out his phone and started searching.
Mallory flushed. Her books weren’t insanely famous like his music, but fantasy romance fans would know her name.
Jenny leaned against her brother’s shoulder, eyeing the internet search on his phone. “That’s the fan page speculating on the cast for the movie.”
She put a thick stack of hardback books in front of Mallory. “Will you sign them for me? Please?”
“Of course.” Mallory dug a pen from her bag. She signed each with a flourish, taking time to personalize each one with a wee sketch of a dragon.
Jenny held onto each book as she signed, keeping the page steady. “Who’s being cast as the hero?”
“No decisions have been made.” Mallory gave out the standard answer. She clicked her pen closed and dropped it back in her bag. “I’m here for paperwork and some book signings. I hope all the fans are as enthusiastic as you.”
“They will be.” Jenny nodded. “Who’s been picked as director?”
“No decisions have been made.” Though Oliver had her hoping for Gabriel Benoit. Having the famous director on her project would up the chance of success exponentially. She flicked a glance at Dylan.
He mouthed, “Benoit?”
Mallory crossed her fingers. Then placed her index finger over her lips.
Dylan pursed his mouth as if impressed and nodded.
“What, what are you two saying?” Jenny glanced between them, then hit her brother’s shoulder lightly. “Tell me.”
Dylan bumped her shoulder with his. “Rabid fans have to be kept in the dark.”
“I’m not rabid .” Jenny squealed the last word. She sighed and sank onto the couch. “Okay, I’m a little rabid.” She swiveled her head between them. “Tell me a little. Just about casting. Or the sets. Are you filming here? No? Yes? Simply nod or shake your head.”
“Jenny,” Mrs. Lee said in a calming voice.
“Fine, I’ll wait and be surprised with everyone else. I won’t even ask. Even though Mallory Park is sitting right here . In my living room. Mere feet away, with answers.”
Mallory grinned and shook her head. Fans always thought they wanted to know what was upcoming, but they really didn’t. Surprises were more fun. “No decisions have been made. Honestly.”
“Online, people sound so sure they know the answers. Like they were privy to stuff. Are you at least shooting the cave scenes in South Korea? You know we have the hexagon pillars like Northern Ireland.” Her eyes lit. “If you’re in town and I’m in town, can I come to a shoot?”
“No locations have been chosen.”
Jenny groaned.
Mallory relented. “But when I do know, and if it’s here, you can pick a day and join me on set.”
Jenny grinned, made mind-blown pops over her head with her hands, then relaxed back into her chair, satisfied with the promise.
“Thanks, Mallory.” Mrs. Lee looked indulgently at her daughter. “Having a book turned into a movie. Your parents must be so proud.”
Mallory stilled. Questions like that poked at her heart, but she had a decade of deflecting. “When my cousin Chelsea became a surgeon, the rest of us had to give up competing.”
His mother nodded. “Doctor is a good career.”
“Writing is a good career too,” Jenny assured her, as if she worried Mallory’s feelings would be hurt. “Mom’s not a reader, but she loves dramas.” Jenny upped her smile. “Now, sister-in-law, tell me who’ll play the heroine.” She raised her fist to the sky as if holding an imaginary torch. “If they mess up her casting, we torch the corporate offices together.”
Mallory flushed.
“ Sister-in-law? Don’t call her that.” Dylan’s mom lightly slapped Jenny’s arm. “You know Dylan can’t date.”
Dylan said nothing.
“Mom, he’s twenty-eight years old.” Jenny had a duh sound in her voice. “They’re here together.”
“They flew in together,” his dad explained. “Your mother will set him up with plenty of blind dates when he’s ready to settle down. That’s years from now.”
Whoa . No way. They thought he’d wait years to date? Her mind flashed to crushed daises and bedrooms. Guess it all depended on their definition of dating. The insights into Dylan’s planned romantic future were unexpected. Mallory tried to read Dylan’s expression, but it was blank.
Dylan had expected his parents would like Mallory. He hadn’t known his sister would fangirl over her. He was enjoying their reactions, and simply being with family. But after the hour hit midnight, Mallory began blinking and nodding off. If they stayed any longer, she would fall asleep on the couch.
They said their goodbyes, and after promises to spend more time with his family, he led Mallory out to the car.
Dylan held the car door for her, mentally juggling his schedule, wondering how he could fit her in. There was no unaccounted-for time, but still, he hadn’t felt this relaxed and at ease in a while. He needed that. More time with her would be good, really good.
Back in the limo, Mallory leaned against the wall, her eyes drifting shut. “Your family is lovely.”
“Thank you.” The car rolled into motion. “Thanks for joining us.” How could he make this work? Would she agree?
Mallory’s eyes popped open. “Seatbelt,” she said, handing him the buckle.
Dylan clicked his seatbelt on. “My family liked you. Especially Jenny, in case you didn’t pick up on that.” He chuckled. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re famous?”
The city streetlights revealed the pink in her cheeks. Mallory wrinkled her nose in denial. “I’m not really.” She didn’t expand.
She had a series of world-famous books, and a potential movie that might be directed by Benoit. Talk about underplaying her success. She had to have more to say. Did she trust him at all? “Anonymity is nice. I understand needing that boundary.” His jaw tightened. “But you can trust me.”
“Oh.” Mallory made a soft sound. “It’s not that.” She tightened her ponytail.
“Why didn’t you tell me your IP was related to movie rights?”
She flipped up her palms. “Authors sell rights all the time, and nothing comes of it. The opportunity could soar or fizzle out.”
Okay, he was learning how she worked. If he wanted more, he had to ask. Maybe the issue wasn’t trust. He’d seen his fair share of jealousy in the industry. “Don’t downplay your success for me. I’m happy for you.”
“Oh.” Mallory made an appreciative sound, looking at him like she’d never seen him before.
He liked the sound, wanted to record her making it. Or at least have her whisper it in his ear with exactly that tone. Most guys would fall for her pretty face. His weakness was sound.
If he met up with her more, she could share her impressions of the day. Then at night, she could lay against his pillow and whisper them to him. Not tonight because she was exhausted, but soon.
Her eyelids drifted closed again. Dylan shifted closer to offer her his shoulder. He reached out and tilted her head so that she leaned against him, a soft, warm weight.
The car was quiet after that, the interior comfortable, with the soft road noise of the tires, the hint of her Parisian hotel shampoo, the feel of Mallory’s curves against him.
It was a quick fifteen minutes before they arrived at her downtown, contemporary hotel with the South Korean flag flying out front. The sleek glass high-rise was as different from the cream-stone Paris hotel as architecture could be. Still. Mallory. A hotel.
Instant memories of the two of them together slammed through his body.
Stop.
Should he go up with her? He couldn’t get inside the hotel unseen. Could he?
He could ask her thoughts.