He said, “You look beautiful.”
Ashley paused, then kept walking. “Thank you. Tonight’s our winter dance.” She gestured down at her dress.
Caz’s hand reached up and he brushed his fingertips against her corsage. “Your date?” His British accent clipped the words.
Ashley pulled her arm away. “Uh, no. I’m going with friends.”
It was so surreal to see him. Caz glowed; there was something charismatic, something over the top, about him. Even in his dark trousers and pale blue shirt, no one would mistake him for just another guy. Something marked him as more. Ashley led him into the house and gestured at the couch.
Caz sat, with straight posture, eyes on the notebook. “Olive told me you were recording notes for tabloids in it.”
Ashley stiffened and sank to the cushion beside him. Answers. “And you believed her?”
“No. I don’t know, I remembered how you’d never let me see it, and I wondered.”
Ashley looked at him carefully: his square, tight jaw, his intense eyes.
He said, “Then I looked inside.”
Her eyes widened, and she winced, feeling a flush cover her face.
“They’re not notes, so Olive lied.” Caz ran a hand through his hair. “I know I could have mailed your notebook, but I wanted to see you. Talk to you.”
Ashley set her purse on the couch and twisted her fingers together. It was easier to look at her French manicure than his face. “It’s been months. You believe me now?”
“I want to know what happened. I want to listen.” His hands opened, palms up against his knees. “I want to know about the pills that were in your bag. About the paparazzi, who were always showing up when we were alone.”
Ashley knew this was a big concession for him to ask, after his parents jerked him around, his agent, his best friend. She pressed a hand to her forehead, and her crystal bracelet twinkled in the light. “You…”
Mom entered the living room with a smile of inquiry for Ashley and a greeting for Caz. “Hi, I’m Ashley’s mom.” Her eyes blinked and she did a double-take.
Caz rose and held out a hand. “I’m Caz.” His gaze flickered to her pregnant belly, but he had the good sense not to comment.
Mom didn’t act like she recognized him, though she must have. She shook his hand. “Is Marissa coming in too?”
“Uh, no,” Ashley said, “Marissa’s not here yet. I worked with Caz last summer.” She left out the part where he got her fired. When she came home early, she’d just told Mom that it was because Dad had to work too much and she missed home. Mom hadn’t questioned her.
“Oh,” Mom said. “Well, why don’t I get one quick photo?”
Setting her notebook beside her purse, Ashley automatically crossed over to the fireplace. As an only child, Ashley was used to the sight of her mom holding a camera and knew her duty. Her gaze flickered to Caz. She didn’t know what to say, but he walked over and stood beside her, close enough that she could smell his ocean cologne, familiar, wonderful. The heaviness and warmth of his arm slid around her waist. The hard muscles of his chest pressed against her side.
Ashley held herself stiffly, trying not to lean into him, trying not to tremble. His hand squeezed her waist, and she could feel the slight movement of each finger. Caz tilted his head toward hers and smiled for the photo, used to the flash. Mom offered him a drink, but he politely refused, and she left them alone.
Ashley returned to the couch and sat back. Her silk skirt fluffed around her legs, and she smoothed it with sweaty palms. “Maybe—”
“Marissa’s here,” Mom said from the hallway.
Ashley popped up and glanced at the clock: 6:30 p.m. Marissa, who always believed her, was waiting. Ashley took a step toward the door. “My friends are here.” She grabbed her purse. The crystals bit into her palm.
Caz’s warm, rough fingers encircled her wrist, halting her. Her eyes closed, and she slightly turned toward him. He said, “We need to talk and I’m scheduled to be in Los Angeles tomorrow. We’re shooting a promo spot for the movie. I should really be there now.”
His schedule stiffened her resolve. Ashley knew all about important Hollywood meetings. They came first. She took a step toward the door. “Sorry, I’m not letting my friends down.”
“Take me with you.”
Chapter 25
His words stopped her. Ashley turned to him, eyebrows raised, eyes wide. Take Caz to a dance at Trallwyn High School?She didn’t know how to address that astonishing proposal, so she started with the most obvious. “You’re famous. The…um…well…the trailer came out.”
“I’ve seen it.” Caz rubbed his thumb against her wrist.
Ashley tried to pull her arm free, but Caz stepped closer. Ashley said, “Your appearance will cause drama, big high school drama. You couldn’t understand, but you’d add to it.”
A horn honked from outside.
“You’d add to it big time.”
Caz slid his hand to the upper part of her arm. “You can handle tabloid reporters and crazy directors. You can handle high schoolers.” His voice deepened. “I have to talk to you.”
The horn honked again.
“No.”
“Please, we have to talk, and if you don’t get me into the dance, I bet someone else at your high school will.”
Ashley stepped in close and looked him in the eyes. She searched their blue-green depths for his intent, but she didn’t have to look hard. Working with him all last summer told her how much he liked to get his way. He’d do it. She said, “No scene at the dance. If you go, we call a truce, and we’ll talk after.”
Caz nodded and clasped her hand. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but he tightened his hold. She tried to keep her fingers from trembling at the sensation of holding his hand again. He followed her back out into the lighted darkness of suburbia. Two limos were parked in front of her house. That was a first. Caz gestured toward the one in front and released her. “Let me grab my jacket.”
Her fingers flexed at the loss of his, and she retreated to the second limo. Opening the door, she saw Marissa’s sparkling face. Marissa snapped her tube of plum lip gloss closed, shoved it into her bag, and held up her wrist. “Check out the corsage my date bought me. Eggplant ribbons to match my dress. He’s getting the biggest kiss ever for remembering that my favorite is an orchid.”
“Gorgeous.” Ashley held up hers. “Mom picked white roses.” The iridescent ribbons wound around the petals.
“Pretty.”
Ashley moved further into the car and took a seat, leaving the door open behind her. In a rushed voice she said, “Caz showed and called a temporary truce. I’m bringing him.”
Marissa’s jaw dropped, and she didn’t have time to close her mouth before Caz climbed in and took the seat next to Ashley, which was probably good, because it would have fallen open again when Caz grabbed Ashley’s hand then smiled his movie star smile. “Hi, I’m Caz.”
Marissa’s mouth snapped closed and she said nothing.
Ashley totally got it. Caz was stunning in person. She hadn’t let that faze her this summer, because once he became a real person to her, she just saw him as Caz, not as a famous star. Seeing him after all this time let her see him objectively. He’d put on a dark jacket. There were no other words—Caz was movie star handsome.
The limo moved forward.
Caz said, “Ashley shared one or two of your texts. They helped us get through some crazy long shoots. Did you really wear a fry costume?”
Marissa sent Ashley a mild glare then laughed. “With crazy pride. So, uh, you’ve gone to many of these things?”
“I was tutored on set since the age of fourteen. I’ve never been to a proper high school dance.”
Marissa said, “Well, it’ll be normal until they realize who you are.”