Page 79 of Bad Reputation

INT. HOTEL BALLROOM—NIGHT

Two Weeks Later

Zoya stood just inside the entrance to the party in a black column dress, chugging from a full bottle of champagne.

“I see you all got started without me,” Cole said as he walked in.

“Cole!” She flung her empty arm around his waist and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Glad you could make it! Congratulations!”

He could hear the exclamation points in her voice. She was already hammered—which, fair. She’d worked harder than anyone else over the last four months, and her drudgery was only beginning. Cole hoped she had one heck of a breather planned before postproduction.

The last couple of weeks of principal photography forWaverleyhad been about what Cole imagined mud wrestling in August would be like, with the mud getting thick and stodgy and the grapplers more and more exhausted. They weren’t at the mercy of the weather in the studio, so there hadn’t been any interruptions. It had seemed like Zoya found entirely new pockets of time—early midmorning before your second coffee, and after the dinner break but not quite night—and they filmed around the clock. Shot by shot, they’d gotten what she needed, and they’d finished just after lunch this afternoon.

“Thanks.” He rubbed her back. “You too.”

She released him and took another swig from her bottle. “It’s the best work of your career, you know.”

He really wanted to believe that, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. It felt almost too scary to think hisattemptat getting his career off the ground again was over, and he wouldn’t know if it had worked until the show debuted.

He shrugged and tried to play it off. “You have to say that.”

“I do not. Take Dale. This wasnotthe best work of his career. He was kind of crap, actually. We’ll cut as much of him out in editing as possible and blame the studio.”

“Champagne is like truth serum for you. Good to know.”

“Oops.” But Zoya didn’t seem particularly regretful.

“Your secret—well,secrets—are safe with me.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Dale. It’s true, but it’s kind of bitchy. From you, though”—she kissed her fingertips—“amazing. Everyone’s going to have so much fun watching you fall.”

This felt like tempting fate, and he’d always been a little superstitious.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” That was vague enough to say safely ... he hoped. “Thank you for believing in me. For giving me this chance.” Cole signaled to Esme, who was leaning against the wall, casually keeping one eye on her boss. “She’s going to need a minder. And maybe don’t let her near Dale.”

Zoya said, “Pfft,” and took another swig of champagne.

“On it,” Esme assured him.

“Have you seen Maggie?”

The assistant tipped her head knowingly. “Not yet.”

Now that filming was over, in the tiny window before he had to get back to LA, Cole had only one thought: Maggie.

She hadn’t been on set today, as there had been no intimacy in the final day’s sides, but she’d promised him she would be at the wrap party. His entire plan for the evening involved finding her and gettingout the words that he’d tried to say at the botanical gardens: he was wild about her.

The timing was crap. Cole didn’t need to be jumping into a relationship right as his career comeback finally hit—assuming that it hit. But this had gone from something he’d thoughtHuh, maybeabout to being the only thing in his life he knew with 100 percent certainty.

He was in love with Maggie Niven.

There wasn’t any way he couldn’t not tell her. And since she’d almost moaned when he’d grazed the back of her hand at the greenhouse, he was pretty sure she felt the same way.

So despite the bad timing, he had to come clean. Falling this hard, this completely, for someone this perfect didn’t happen every day. In Cole’s life, it hadneverhappened. It was unique. She was unique. That surely outweighed something as trivial as how and when they’d met.

Cole made the rounds: shaking hands, distributing good words, and taking selfies. And when he’d begun to worry Maggie was going to stand him up, he finally spied her, chatting with Ryan by the snack table. The tension in his shoulders eased, and he knew he was smiling like a loon as he wove across the room.

Not trusting himself to touch Maggie, he greeted the stunt coordinator first, bumping Ryan’s fist with his. “Hey, man. You don’t usually hit these things.”

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