4. Danny
Danny
Istood on the other side of the door, struggling with words. It had been a long time since I’d been in this kind of situation. I wasn’t exactly sure how to leave gracefully. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave at all.
She didn’t seem to notice as she smiled that crooked grin of hers.
Her costume was completely gone now. The wig had come off at some point in the evening.
The long red hair that tumbled down her shoulders was a definite improvement.
Everything had been replaced with a fuzzy white bathrobe which unfortunately hid the watercolor tattoo of the Glen Orrin crest that went down her right shoulder and arm.
She stood leaning against the doorframe in bare feet, slipping a piece of paper into my hand.
“What’s this?” I asked, inspecting the note.
“Well, since you don’t have a phone with you, I had to go analog,” she chirped. “You know. In case you’re free later this week.”
My smile grew wider at the thought of that possibility. “I’d really like that.”
Her gaze took me in again, as she bit her lip in a way that made me catch my breath. “Then don’t be a stranger,” she replied.
I wasn't sure whether I should shake her hand, give her a peck on her cheek, or turn without another word. So, I did the worst option of all and performed a formal stage bow. “Until next time, Lady Fiona.”
She erupted into giggles and pushed me away. “Go. Before I change my mind.”
“So,” I said, walking backwards towards the elevators. “There’s something I might be able to do that would change your mind.”
‘Fiona’ blushed furiously, opening her mouth and snapping it shut quickly. “Call me and I’ll definitely consider it,” she said, giving me a crooked smile that made my chest ache. She slipped back into the room, but I could see her eyes peering at me as she finally shut the door.
I had no concept of the time when I finally walked away from ‘Fiona’s’ room.
I still didn’t know her name. All I had was a slip of paper that she had scribbled out her number and the name ‘Fiona’ written in quotes.
I would have been in there much longer if she hadn’t claimed that she had work to do in the morning. Was she lying? I couldn’t be sure.
Then again, she had mentioned that I should have left multiple times because of work, but somehow that led to more activities that a gentleman like me shouldn’t discuss in public.
As I walked down the hallway, I felt like I had a few cocktails.
That delightful buzz was spinning in my head, where everything was funny, and everything was all right in the world.
Somehow, with all the tearing off of clothes, my costume emerged unscathed.
By some minor miracle, my slightly skewed wig remained on my head.
As I got off the elevator, I realized I could still detect her fragrance on me, a subtle blend of citrus and florals.
For a brief moment, her green eyes and her crooked grin came back to me.
For the first time in days, the fan backlash and my job security had faded away.
My spirits were high as I made my way to my suite, quietly opening the door.
I tried to sneak in so as not to wake Paige, who had always been a light sleeper.
My sneaking was worthless. The lights were on in the main room and Paige was laid out on the couch in her pajamas.
She pulled her attention away from her phone, a smug and knowing smile on her face.
“Young man, do you know what time it is? It is way past your curfew.”
Exactly the welcome I wanted to avoid. “Paige. Please. Don’t start.”
Paige held up her phone, and I gave her the middle finger.
This was our usual practice whenever we caught each other in an embarrassing moment.
She let out a long laugh as she snapped a picture.
“I’m sorry, but did you think I would give up the chance to catch Danny Finnegan coming home from his walk of shame? I could never let that happen.”
I groaned at her and bent over to take off my boots. “You can stop roasting me any time now.”
“Was it magical? Did the earth shake?” She stood up and leaned against the hallway entrance, her grin irritating me more than usual. “Did the summer breeze carry your whispered words of passion to the stars?”
“Seriously, Paige?” I asked dropping the boots in front of her.
Her resolve to humiliate me was doggedly resolute. “Did everything still work? I mean it’s been a while.”
I did not need that reminder at all. “Please, stop.”
“Should I call Kismet Sizzle? I think she needs new song material.”
My jaw clenched as I did my best not to give Paige anything that fed into her teasing.
“Don’t even think of it.” I pulled my wig off and threw it at her. It hit her chest and flopped to the ground. She punted it across the room with glee.
“Oh, come on, you have to let me have a little fun here,” she teased, following me to the bathroom door and watching me remove the tinted contacts. “I mean, lord knows you did.”
“I did,” I admitted. “And apparently, this is my punishment for having a good time.”
“Are you seeing her again?” she asked, never for a second letting up.
I didn’t say anything, hoping my silence would make her drop the topic. It didn’t work.
“Oh, my God. You are going to see her again!” She exclaimed. “Damn, straight out of a six-year drought and you found an oasis.”
“She gave me her number,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead. “Right before she booted me out of her room. I wouldn’t count on much else happening.”
“Well, I got her picture, along with all the other Fiona's and Tyrst’an’s you met,” Paige said, holding up her phone. She scrolled through all the Tyrant fans I had posed with yesterday. “Want to pick which ones to post?”
I went to the kitchenette area and grabbed a bottle of water to guzzle. The weight of the day and all the stress from the fanbase started coming back to me. My shoulders began to droop, and I let out a long yawn. “You can pick. Just none of the ones with her.”
Paige frowned at me. “Are you kidding? That was the shot of the night.” She pulled up the picture.
It was me carrying her in my arms. We were looking into each other's eyes, and that smile of hers made my breath catch in my throat.
I swallowed hard and tried not to smile or Paige would never let me hear the end of it.
“No. Definitely not that one or any of the ones with her.” I said, firmly. “I don’t want to advertise myself having a fling with someone I just met.”
Unfortunately, she caught my reaction to the photo of “Fiona” and grinned at me like a deranged lunatic. “Oh no! You are not!”
I hated Paige when she was like this. I went straight into denial mode. “I’m not what?”
“You’re smitten!” she exclaimed.
My head began to pound. “Paige, seriously, stop. You’re going to wake everyone up.”
She cackled at my request and continued. “Has this con hookup evolved into a fling?”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
Paige held her hands up in the air, as if visualizing a grand headline before her. “I can see the tabloids now! Marlin Sinbad falls in love at first sight!”
“Okay, that’s enough!” I snapped.
Paige took a step back, frowning, knowing she had gone too far. I immediately regretted growling at her. She was having fun, and I was being too judgmental about myself.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gently. “I had a nice night. But we both know how it’s going to end. Once she gets past the wig and the costume, she’ll lose interest because I’m not the character or the so-called star they see on screen.”
“Yeah, but nobody knew it was you in that get up,” Paige pointed out. “It’s still you.”
“It wasn’t me. It’s a character I was playing. I might as well have been acting like Marlin out there. She didn’t choose me. She doesn’t want me. She wants Tyrst’an.”
The glow and warmth of the evening had faded away. My mind began to spin into the inevitable disappointment. A numb feeling crept over me. “I need to get to bed.”
“Uh, yeah, you probably do,” Paige said, fiddling with her phone. “Your schedule changed. You need to be up in four hours for your workout session with Jorge.”
I groaned and headed to my room in the suite. “Why so early?”
“Because Britta scored an interview for you at 9:00. It’s with that influencer who rated you ‘meh’.”
I turned to her in disbelief. “Seriously? I have to literally impress the person who kicked off the hate campaign against me?”
“She didn’t start the hate campaign,” Paige pointed out. “She became the face of it.”
“This is a horrible idea,” I groaned.
“It’ll be fine. You’re great at interviews. I prepped some notes for you-”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. I had been through this too many times before.
“Oh, please. It’ll be like any other interview.
First, she’ll bring up Juilliard and the Emmy, and make fun of me for it.
Then I’ll get roasted for the Kismet Sizzle song she wrote about me and then snide comments about working in soap operas. ”
“Read the notes, Danny.” Her tone left no room for argument.
“I’ll read the notes,” I promised half-heartedly. “After I get some sleep.”
I headed to my bed and undid the fasteners of the leather vest. Paige continued to hover outside my door. For once she wasn’t on her phone or looked like she was going to roast me.
“What, Paige?”
She let out a small sigh. “Danny, not every relationship is going to end up being a dumpster fire. You need to open yourself up and see what’s out there. For the last six years it’s been you, me, and the Boss.”
“I find this hilarious coming from you,” I said, scoffing. Paige was the commitment-phobe of the Finnegan family, without a doubt. If a guy she dated even showed the slightest bit of emotional attachment, he got kicked to the curb within a week.
Her gaze dropped to her feet and her hand raked through her hair. “I don’t want to see you alone, Danny.”
I tilted my head. Paige typically would have stomped off by now instead of admitting any kind of worry or concern on my behalf. “Is there something you need to tell me?”