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trying to be good.”

“Come on, Julian,” she whispered. “Live a little. I won’t tell your personal trainer.”

He locked eyes with her. Then he took the fork in his mouth, his teeth scraping the prongs as he pulled away. The desire to kiss him was so sharp it cut her appetite.

She dropped the fork and picked up the bread. She ripped a piece and bit into it, buying some time. It was light and chewy and delicious. “I work out and eat right and all the things,” she said. “Just not on vacation. It’s against my religion to be so disciplined at a five-star hotel.”

He relaxed in his chair and stretched out his legs, brown skin over taut muscle. “What church is that? Can I convert?”

“Sorry. We only let in true believers.”

The attendant returned with his shake, topped off Nina’s mimosa with champagne, then discreetly backed away.

Julian stirred the thick shake with a glass straw. “I’m going to miss you tonight.”

Those few words undid her. She cleared her throat. “How about we continue our marathon with Thunder II?”

“You’ve been through enough,” he said. “Plus, I have a thing tonight.”

“Oh!” She had to grip the bread or risk dropping it. “I… Oh.”

Of course he had a thing—whatever that meant. He hadn’t flown across country to swim laps in a fancy pool. Unlike her, he had a life. Nina scarfed down her eggs, aware that he was watching her. He was such a keen observer. Nothing was lost on him. She’d pay cash to know what he was thinking.

“It’s a work thing,” he said. “The last time I met with this person, we spoke for hours. I have no idea how it will go tonight, but I’m hopeful.”

She reached for her glass and raised it. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He continued to stir his shake, in no apparent hurry to drink it. “What are your plans for today?”

“There’s the move to my new room, and that’ll take all of ten minutes.”

He offered to help, and she turned him down. “I’m good. Thanks.”

“What else?”

At this point, she should initiate plan WWMD: What would Mom do? “The point of this trip is to celebrate my mother’s life. So I’m going to do the things that she’d like to do, given the chance.”

“Which are?”

“Lounging at this fabulous hotel, drinking, flipping through magazines… I’ll have to book a manicure.” She shrugged, failing to come up with anything better. “She took relaxation very seriously.”

“What are the things that you like to do?”

“Me?” Why had the question stumped her? “Honestly, I don’t vacation well. I work a lot of the time. So I’d read or revise a manuscript or use the trip to research a setting.”

The straw clinked on the sides of his glass as he continued to stir. He was mulling over something. Nina held her breath until he came out with it.

“Why don’t you come with me tonight?” he said.

“To the work thing?”

“It’s a dinner.”

“I don’t know,” she said, suddenly uneasy.

“You might enjoy it. And you’d be doing me a favor—I’m the third wheel.”

Nina immediately considered what she might wear and missed it when he lifted his gym bag onto his lap. He pulled out his phone. “What’s your email address?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to send you some reading materials,” he said. “You might want to study up for tonight.”

“Oh? Okay,” she said. “Send it to Hello@NinaTaylor.com.”

He narrowed his eyes, tapping away at his phone. “I don’t have to remind you that anything I share with you is confidential.”

“Should I remind you that friendship is based on trust?”

He put the phone down. “Is that what this is? A platonic friendship?”

“I don’t know what this is,” she said. And that was the honest truth.

He seemed to like her answer. Concealing a smile, he drew the straw from the shake, set it down on a napkin and drained the glass with a few gulps. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

Nina’s mouth went dry.

He rose to his feet. “I need a shower.”

“What time is dinner?” she asked.

“Seven. I’ll come get you.”

“See you then.”

He turned to walk away, hesitated, then returned to his seat. “Nina, I’m nearly done with your book.”

She groaned. He raised a finger. “Let me say this one thing. You don’t have far to go to connect with your mum. You saw her clearly for who she was, and that’s a lot.”

Nina shook her head, regret and sorrow churning in her gut. “She didn’t see it that way.”

Her mother had read an early excerpt of Backstage Diva. She wept and accused Nina of distorting facts to paint herself in a positive light.

“Why do you think I insist that you, that everyone, call me Julian?” he said.

“It’s a beautiful name,” she said.

“Most people can’t separate me from the person they see on screen. It’s annoying, for one thing. And it’s isolating.”

“Oh, Julian…” The name escaped her lips, now full of meaning.

“You were not her fan. You were her daughter. She had something real with you, and it’s a shame she couldn’t see it.”

He got up and slung his gym bag over his shoulder. Nina watched him leave, speechless. Every time she thought she had this man figured out, he revealed another facet of himself. Curiosity as to what he might have sent her in the email took over. She grabbed her phone and clicked on the message. The attached document was titled Midnight Sun.

Nina finished her breakfast and took her drink over to a lounge chair. It was time to hit Pause on plan WWMD. She had a fresh drink and new reading material. This was her idea of fun.

CHAPTER NINE

Julian stood at Nina’s door in a steel-gray suit that his stylist had had delivered after he put in an emergency call. He’d wanted to look good for their night out, only they were staying in. Francisco had agreed to meet at Sand Castle. Actually, he’d insisted on it.

Nina looked stunning in what couldn’t be dismissed as a little black dress, because the long bias-cut skirt had a high slit and

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