What the hell was that?
She was treating him like a guy treats a girl he doesn’t want to see again. Thanks, here’s a cab, now get out of my face.
He didn’t like that. He didn’t want the brush-off. He wanted to be seen again, called again, texted again. He wanted a second date with her, dammit.
Except it wasn’t a real date.
But even with her hot-and-cold routine, he couldn’t stop thinking of the way she wriggled in that chair, how she’d spread her legs without a second thought, how she’d done everything to stifle the scream of his name when he brought her to release. God, he wanted to do that to her again. She was so receptive, so willing, so damn eager to be touched. He loved the way she responded to him, the way she became a different Sutton when he touched her. That’s what he thought of, as he pressed one palm against the tiles, leaning into the hot stream, his other hand bringing him all the way back to her, her legs, her smell, her taste, the way he imagined she’d moan and writhe and shout when they were all alone in a bedroom somewhere.
He wanted that wild abandon of Sutton Brenner underneath him in real life, but the mere image was enough for now to finish himself off.
Chapter Six
Sutton wrapped up her latest round of calls to agents, requesting callbacks for a part in a TV show. Given her reputation, she’d received a special offer from a premium cable network for one of its racier shows about a cadre of Los Angeles party girls who travel to New York City for a bachelorette weekend. Naturally, the girls go to an invite-only strip club for its “Parade of Firemen” night, and Sutton was tasked with finding the five best “firemen” in New York City. She’d known instantly who to bring in, but then she always liked to give new blood a chance too, so she’d spent one afternoon last week hunting through photos, watching reels, and calling the top agents for their input on a few rising stars to include in the mix. The result had been a visual fiesta at the audition, and though the whole crew had been top-notch, she’d picked the best of the bunch for a second look. The agents she called squeed and oohed and ahhed and this was one of Sutton’s favorite parts of the job. Delivering good news. She could either be Santa bringing coal, or Santa bringing gifts, and she’d much rather get to play the part of good Santa delivering a big, heavy bag of opportunity to hungry actors.
“Great. So the producers will be looking forward to seeing Joe tomorrow afternoon,” Sutton said brightly, then hung up the phone. She was about to call one more agent when her cell rang. She felt that tightness in her chest—the cocktail of nerves and hope—as she wished it were Reeve. Why did she want to hear from her fake fiancé ?
But the number was private.
“Sutton Brenner here.”
“Good afternoon, Sutton. This is Janelle.”
The hopes flew away. The nerves took deeper root. She sat up straight in her chair. “Good afternoon, Janelle. How are you?”
“Did you enjoy the play?”
“Yes. It was fabulous. The seats were amazing. Thank you so much. Was everything okay? I know you had to leave early.”
“Oh, I managed to see enough of what I liked,” she said, and there was was something oddly illicit in the way Janelle answered the question.
Sutton furrowed her brow. “Oh, well that’s good.” She wasn’t sure what Janelle was getting at. Had she seen Reeve get her off? Oh god. Was she that much of a conservative bird too? First, she wanted a family atmosphere at the company. Now, she probably wanted Sutton to be a virgin before her wedding.
“In any case, I was calling about something else. We are so close to making a decision on this film, and I know one of the things that’s been hard for us to determine is where exactly the best location would be in the library for—well, you know.”
Right. The library scene. Sutton knew the library scene well. Hell, the world knew the library scene. It was like the elevator scene in another famous book. In Escorted Lives, the woman who falls for her escort takes him to the New York City Public Library to show him a rare old book that she wishes she could have for her collection. While at the library, they find a quiet nook and he makes love to her in the stacks.
Normally, casting directors don’t play any part in scouting locations. They are the first line of defense in recruiting on-camera talent, but the job ends there, so it was odd for Janelle to bring up location work with Sutton.
“Oh. Has it?” Sutton asked to keep the conversation going.
Janelle sighed heavily, as if this issue had been weighing on her. “It is. I went to the library myself, but I can’t find a place that’s just right. And I know you have such a good eye for talent that I thought you might have an eye for this as well.”
“Okay,” Sutton said carefully. She felt as if she were being tested in a new way. There was no deal yet, but she was being asked to jump through yet another hoop. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“Oh no. I was just thinking maybe you could go today. Maybe you and your lovely fiancé could see if you could find a good spot. I’ve heard the section on Renaissance Astrology on the fourth floor might be good, but I don’t have time to get over there today. Would you be a dear and report back to me? It would help immensely as we get closer to making a decision.”
“And I should bring my fiancé for this?” Sutton asked, because it was a strange request—not only to check out the location, but to bring along her beau.
“Don’t you think it might help to have Reeve with you?”
Sutton pressed her lips together and sucked in a deep breath. Janelle was grade-A annoying. But if this was how the game had to be played, Sutton was up for it. “I’m sure it will help immensely. Renaissance astrology, you say?”
“Yes. Renaissance astrology.”
“All right. I’ll just make this last call and head on over.”
She phoned the final agent on her list, then she rang up Reeve. “Hello, pretend boyfriend. Where are you right now?”
“Just going for a run with my friend Jill.”
Sutton felt a flare of jealousy. “Jill? Good friend, is she?”
“Great friend.”
“Can you meet me at the public library on Fifth and Forty-Second in an hour?”
“I need to shower. Make it an hour and a half.”
“Gotta go,” Reeve said to Jill as they ran down the West Side Bike Path.
“Come on! You’re the only one who can keep up with me. I thought we were going for eight miles today. You’re such a wuss,” Jill said, and pushed Reeve on the arm as they kept pace together.