Page 33 of Stars and Scars

I grin and sip my water. The icy splash feels good on my throat.

“I made more money off of a thirty second spot about pimple wipes than my mom earned in an entire week of working as a bank teller. Maybe a lot of people think I’m ridiculous, and I don’t have a real job, but what am I supposed to do? Tell them no when they offer me a boatload of money to talk about their product for half a minute?”

I wind down, realizing I went on something of a rant. Grayson doesn’t seem to mind, though. He sits with his chin in his hand, eyes softly focused on me.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re ridiculous, Charlotte.”

A giddy warmth spreads over my skin, prickly and tickling.

“Thank you.”

He nods.

“I’ve been around the so-called halls of power in many parts of the world. Believe me, you’ve got something that those world leaders, those movers and shakers, can’t hope to touch.”

“What’s that? Clear skin and a perky butt?”

He laughs again, and I can see some of the tension drain away. I’m glad we moved past that moment in the hotel room when I asked about his sister.

“Character,” he says when he gets control of himself. “You have character, Charlotte. If you ask me, it’s that quality that makes people want to follow you on the internet, not just your great rack and perky butt.”

I gasp. “What did you just say?”

He pauses, halfway through buttering another slice of melba toast.

“I…I just repeated what you said.”

“Nooooo…”

I arch my brows at him.

“I said clear skin and a perky butt. I never mentioned having a great rack, though I do sort of appreciate the compliment.”

His skin turns red, and he busies himself with his toast.

“My apologies,” he mumbles.

I chuckle at his misery. Our food arrives and for a time our conversation turns into commentary about our meal. My pasta is a little overcooked, but the sauce is delightful. His only comment on his sandwich?

“It’s good.”

His expression soon darkens, however.

“It would be nice to lay hands on Wyatt, and grill him about this business,” he grumbles.

I sip my water without breaking eye contact.

“I don’t know about laying hands on him, but I might be able to get us into one of Wyatt’s parties.”

He straightens up and gives me a wide eyed stare.

“Really? How?”

I arch a brow and grin.

“This is LA, honey. It’s all about who you know, and I know quite a few people. I’m sure I can get us an invite.”

He leans forward, almost shaking with eagerness.

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