Page 66 of Between the Lines

I close the distance between us. There’s no resisting it. I put my hand on her waist and rub a thumb over the silky chiffon. “You’re a vision. A dream, Chaos.”

She smiles a little. There’s hopeful excitement in her eyes that robs me of breath all over again. “Really?”

“Yes. I’d kiss you right now if it wouldn’t ruin your lipstick.”

Her gaze widens, and I realize what I just said.

But I don’t take it back.

“Oh.” Her smile is soft and gentle, and she looks down at my tux. “Good thing I’m wearing lipstick, then.”

“Mm-hmm. What did those people in the salon do to your eyes?”

“My eyes?”

“They’re… I’m… I don’t have the words.” My hand is still on her waist, tracing little circles.

She reaches up and smoothes the lapels of my dinner jacket. “It’s a smokey eye. I wanted to look different. Unlike myself.”

“You do.”

“In a good way?”

“That’s a trick question,” I say, and her red, glossy lips tip up into a smile that is still familiar. My favorite expression of hers. “You’re just as beautiful with as without all of this, Chaos. I’ve always thought that.”

Her fingers tighten around my lapel. “You’re a charmer.”

“I’m honest. There’s a difference.” I reach down and find her hand. The need to touch her is always strong. Right now, it’s invincible. “Come on. Let’s get you to the premiere. You’ll outshine all the movie stars.”

The car drive to Hollywood Boulevard is surprisingly fast. Distance-wise we’re not far, but distance has little to do with travel time in LA. One of the cardinal rules of traffic.

We bypass the red carpet, arriving instead behind the Dolby Theatre directly at the VIP reception. It’s held in a secluded area set up like a garden terrace, away from the prying eyes of the press and the public alike. I show my invitation to the man at the entrance, and then he eagerly waves me through.

Charlotte gives a low whistle at my side. “It’s that easy, is it? To be Aiden Hartman?”

It’s not easy at all,I think. All these people wouldn’t take the Hartman name in their mouth two years ago. It’s only by relentlessly clawing our way back to the top of this industry, and ensuring I can offer them something they covet, that I have this kind of access again. There is no genuine friendliness in Hollywood. It’s all fake smiles and trading favors. And always,always, the neverending game of fame.

It’s the currency everyone is aware of. It hangs over people’s heads like a counter. Of the followers, the gross revenue stats. I’ve seen plenty of people who let that consume them.

But that’s not what Charlotte asked. So I put my hand on the small of her back, feeling the faint shiver that races through her at the touch. “Sometimes,” I say. “When I have something they want.”

“Leverage,” she murmurs. “That’s what this industry runs on. Right?”

I look at her for a second before answering. “Yes. It is. You catch on quick.”

“It’s sort of my job,” she says with a slight smile.

“No,” I say. “I think it’s just you.”

Her gaze lingers on mine. The makeup emphasizes the blue of her eyes, and I can’t seem to look away from her depths.

“Aiden,” she murmurs.

Whatever else she meant to say is drowned by the sudden applause. Excitement ripples through the well-heeled crowd around us, and I search the mass of producers, actors, and musicians.

Ah.The lead actors have arrived. They walk into the VIP reception area like conquering heroes—big smiles on their faces. Four of Hollywood’s leading young stars.

“Wow,” Charlotte breathes beside me. “I can’t believe I’m actually seeing this.”

---