Page 80 of Bad Reputation

Ryan was all about the job and tended not to mix with the talent and crew much, unless—

“I see you’re here too.” Tasha’s expression was pure boredom, as if she wasn’t glad to be done and didn’t care about any of this. She held a glass of white wine loosely in one hand. If she’d paired it with a cigarette in the other, she would’ve been ready to play a jaded socialite.

“Gotta celebrate.”He, at least, was feeling festive, now that he’d found Maggie.

“Do we, though?”

Cole didn’t answer that. He just locked eyes with Maggie. He’d gotten used to her typical outfit: jeans and a clingy sweater with practicalshoes. Very little jewelry or makeup, and with her hair held out of her eyes with a few bobby pins. He was ahugefan of her typical outfit.

But tonight’s black cocktail dress, with its deep V neckline? The high-heeled shoes? The smear of pink lipstick? The sparkle around the base of her throat? Yeah, he liked those too. Liked them a hell of a lot.

Maggie met his gaze and gave a little shrug, as if she was embarrassed by her effort and embarrassed by his staring. He couldn’t help it. She was the prettiest woman in the room.

“Maggie.” His voice was full of grit, like shoes after walking on the beach.

“Cole.” She took an awkward step toward him, her hand extended as if she wanted to shake.

But that feltwrong. Too formal.

Instead, he set his hand on her waist, so lightly he couldn’t feel her body under her dress. That was too intimate. Too far. But the fabric was warm and made him dizzy, and that was enough.

Maggie tipped her chin back to meet his eyes. The fear, the hope, the anxiety, the longing that were shining there: beat for beat, the same emotions were pinging around his chest.

You’re not alone in this, sweetheart.

Holding himself in check, Cole brushed his lips over her temple, and she sighed. If they weren’t at this party, if they didn’t have an audience—but they did. So after one more second, Cole released her and stepped back.

She looked as dazed as he felt. “How was the, um, last day?” she managed to ask.

“Fine. Kind of anticlimactic, if I’m being honest. I can’t believe it’s over.”

“You did such good work.” Maggie gave herself a shake and forced herself to face Ryan and Tasha. “Allof you did. I’m in awe.”

“My contributions made the show,” Ryan deadpanned.

“Hey, Tasha did some wonderful riding”—the woman in question choked on her wine at Maggie’s unintentional double entendre—“andCole told me the sword fighting was awesome. And you didn’t kill Dale during the execution scene, so you pretty much did.”

“Andyou,” Ryan said, “slayed your first solo job as an IC.”

“The junior IC,” Maggie corrected.

Ryan wasn’t convinced by this at all. “The senior one was where, exactly? You did all the work.”

“Hey, he was recovering from a broken leg, and he did help.”

Cole knew that she had emailed, texted, and talked to Bernard almost every day.

“Uh-huh. Welcome to life as a Hollywood assistant.” Ryan took another pull from his beer. “Take the compliment, and when the reviews come out, remember it’s your work they like.”

Maggie, ever humble, waved this off. “We’ll see what the critics say.”

“Oh, no, fuck the critics,” Tasha scoffed.

“Take the compliment, Niven. You were awesome,” Cole agreed.

And that was when all hell broke loose in the form of Beth Russell and Vincent Minna, strolling arm and arm into the ballroom.

Rage flamed in Cole’s gut, faster and hotter than when you dumped an entire container of charcoal starter on the barbeque. But as he tried to shield Tasha from those assholes and to catch Ryan’s eyes so they could go do something about this situation, she pushed him aside.

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