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proof. It had to have been Pete. He was the only one lurking around that night.

“Those photos are misleading.” Nina tried to rationalize the irrational. “He did rescue me and we went out a few times, but there’s nothing to that kiss and—”

Valerie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m not here to pry. But this is a whole lot of drama and I’m concerned, that’s all.”

“We’re working together.” Nina regretted the words almost immediately. Had Julian expected her to keep it confidential?

Valerie made a face. “Working on what? Not another Thunder movie!”

“I’m not at liberty to say. And please don’t tell anyone.”

“Nina,” Valerie said gravely, “that guy hooks up with every one of his costars. Don’t you keep up with this stuff?”

Nina realized that her smart-girl image, her large-and-in-charge persona, was a liability. Valerie couldn’t imagine her having a vacation fling or even having fun. Any outlandish behavior on her part, any bit of drama, had to be a cry for help.

“Scratch that,” Valerie said. “Your sex life is none of my business. Just make sure any contract you sign is airtight. The last woman he worked with got cut from his movie. And they were engaged, too.”

“They were not engaged.” For whatever reason, Nina was eager to clarify this point.

“Wait,” Valerie said, looking past Nina’s shoulder. “Is that him?”

A quick glance in the direction that Valerie had hinted at confirmed that it was in fact Julian and he was making his way toward their table. As always, the sight of him thrilled her. He looked fresh in his usual T-shirt and jeans. Her gaze fell to the travel bag slung over his shoulder, and she recalled that he was flying to Atlanta to speak with Bettina. Nina took a sip of coffee to cure a sudden headache.

“Heading out to the airport,” he said. “Thought I’d say goodbye.”

“And I’d like to say hello.” Valerie popped up and introduced herself. “Hi! I’m Valerie Pierre, Nina’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you. I didn’t know Nina had family in Miami.”

He went on to ask her where she lived and what she did for a living. And for a while they chatted like old friends. Valerie was obviously starstruck. Her bright eyes, overly broad smile and unbridled laughter were dead giveaways. Nina was baffled. How quickly the ice had thawed! Considering Valerie’s low opinion of Julian, this was an astonishing 180.

When the time came to say goodbye, Nina caught the hesitation in Julian’s eyes. He made no attempt to hug or kiss her, no doubt dissuaded by her stiff body language. He waved, and she waved back. Once he was out of her sight, it was all Nina could do to keep from chasing after him.

She’d played this wrong, waffling in front of her cousin like that. Julian wasn’t much older than her, but it was likely he’d matured past the need to play games. Except she was genuinely freaking out. Despite photo slideshows proving the contrary, she’d enjoyed their relative privacy. This hotel was their safe haven. She wasn’t ready to answer questions about their relationship.

Valerie settled back in her seat. “So…that’s Julian.”

Nina nodded slowly. “That’s Julian.”

“I like him. He seems cool.”

Nina was so relieved that she broke out in a cold sweat. It scared her how badly she wanted Valerie to like him, to differentiate the man in the crappy movie from the man she was sharing a bed with. At the same time, it saddened Nina that she needed outside validation.

“The rumors are true,” Nina blurted. “Everything you’ve read about us is true. We’re…” She searched for an elegant term and came up short. “We’re hooking up.”

“I hope so!” Valerie said. “Imagine coming all this way for an intervention and have nothing to intervene in. Do you know how much it costs to park on Ocean Drive?”

Nina wondered why an intervention was even required. “Is it so crazy what I’m doing?”

Valerie fixed her with her amber eyes. “Honestly? Yes. But just because it’s crazy doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Life is short. You’ll need an exit strategy, though. Do you have one?”

Nina stared into her empty coffee cup. Sooner or later, she and Julian would part ways and return to their respective worlds. That wasn’t so much a strategy as the charted course of a doomed voyage.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Julian stood watching Bettina tumble into bed with a much younger man—younger than him, anyway. The guy was shirtless, hairless and slim. Bettina wore a white towel around her torso. In a moment or so, it would fall away. But this being Hollywood, nothing was as it appeared. Bettina was playing the role of Jennifer Duncan, a prosecutor who, for whatever reason, was sleeping with a key witness in a high-profile case. The man who played her lover was Pierce Alexander, an acclaimed film actor gunning for an Emmy. Finally, they weren’t on a Hollywood back lot, but a soundstage in Atlanta.

Bettina and Pierce kissed with abandon until the director yelled, “Cut!”

Bettina pulled herself up and darted a look his way, her face tight with frustration. She raised an index finger. One sec.

Julian shrugged. Take your time.

He missed being in a long-term relationship. He loved the shorthand couples shared, even when it was passive-aggressive as hell.

Bettina and her costar huddled with the director for a few minutes, then she hobbled over in fuzzy slippers. Her red hair was damp and brushed away from her face. Her eye makeup was artfully smudged, and her freckles were double the actual amount. This was her third season playing Jennifer Duncan, a civil servant who managed to live in great style on a state government salary.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” she said. “Can’t do lunch. We don’t have Pierce for long, so we’ll be working through the day.”

Julian cocked his head, a nice way of saying. Screw Pierce. Seeing her on set with the actor had triggered a jolt of jealousy. But it wasn’t fresh emotion, just something warmed up from the past, and

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