“Oh, I already like you,” he claims in a low voice. Before I can respond, he continues. “But Mona here doesn’t think I need much prettying. Do you disagree?” His eyes twinkle with mischief, and I can only imagine what a less scarred and backward woman might be feeling right now. Dazzled, flattered, lustful. All of the above?
“It’s my job to make everyone prettier,” I reply mildly. I know better than to stir up that hornets’ nest. I’m used to stroking egos and protecting pride. I work with some of the world’s vainest actresses. Diplomacy is practically a job requirement in my field.
One corner of his mouth curls into that irresistible, lopsided grin again. This time, he’s so close that I can see a dimple appear in his lean cheek. “Then consider me your willing canvas. Do your worst.”
I would take a deep breath, but my lungs feel like they can’t expand anymore, like they’re already near bursting. “Then have a seat and we’ll get to work,” I suggest breathily, hoping he’ll take the hint. At this point, I’d say just about anything to get some space from his disconcerting proximity. If I’m to spend the next six weeks in his face, touching him and getting him ready for his part as Drago in the cable series Wicked Games, then I need for day one to begin with as much professionalism as possible. And at this rate, that’s looking less and less likely to happen. I mean, I started off by insulting the guy within earshot. Not an easy opening from which to recover.
After a few seconds of staring at me with that bone-melting gaze of his and then giving me a full-blown smile, Rogan finally turns to head back to his chair. I carefully and quietly let out the breath I was holding.
“Captivating the crowd already, I see,” a cool and cultured voice says from behind me. I turn to find Victoria Musser, actress, beauty, and witch extraordinaire, standing in the doorway behind me. She looks perfectly rumpled, as though she fell out of bed looking amazing and dragged herself in here to hypnotize all the cameras, with or without makeup.
Having worked for Cinematic Studios for two years, I’ve been assigned to her before, and I despised every minute of it. I was thrilled when Kelly, our key makeup artist, assigned someone else to fix her up.
Before anyone can comment, Victoria is sweeping me into a hug. Her arms feel like scrawny, steel traps.
Or maybe like spider pincers.
I’m stiff as a board. Even after she releases me and smiles down into my face. Her blue eyes are soft and her expression is warm. I have no idea what to think of her right now. Other than that she’s possessed.
“Katie! I’m sorry I haven’t been around to see you in a while. I’ve missed you, girl!” I’m not sure how I manage to keep my mouth shut, but I’m glad that I do. I just stare at her like she’s sprouted wings and a tutu as she makes her way around me to accost Mona. “And, Mona, how are things with White?”
Although Mona is not only the girlfriend, but the personal assistant to the executive producer, just like me she is far, far, faaar beneath the notice of Victoria Musser. Well, until today, that is.
Mona looks dumbfounded as she, too, gets drawn into the cold-fish embrace of Victoria. I suppress a grin, wondering if that’s what my face looked like when she hugged me.
“And, Rogan. God, it’s been too long. How have you been?”
Like a slinky kitten, Victoria eases herself into Rogan’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck in that familiar way that says, “Yeah, we’ve seen each other naked a million times and it was awesome.” When she leans back from her hug, her face still very close to his, Rogan returns her smile. Even from this distance, I feel the effects of it. Like a drug, which is what reminds me that men like him are toxic. Especially to me.
FOUR
Rogan
“Tori. I thought you were filming on location in Ireland for the next few weeks.”