Page 16 of Playboy Billionaire

Griffin raised one eyebrow, “You sure about that?”

The director grinned, “Yes. Despite themselves they’re ultimately team players and nothing but professional. No worries.” He clapped Griffin heartily on the back and left the room whistling.

What could possibly go wrong?

7

Penelope tucked her hair up in the ball cap and slipped on her sunglasses, hoping it was enough disguise to protect her anonymity as she pedaled her bike to the beach house. Her forehead creased thinking about her new potential co-star…Griffin Bennett. He was gorgeous, she’d give him that at least. His unruly mop of brown hair and his intensely blue eyes were compelling. Tall, lean and muscular, killer smile, perfect white teeth.

So why was she less than thrilled? He was irritating and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why she was so triggered by him. He only had to open his mouth and she felt annoyed.

She refused to give notice to the tingling she felt between her legs when she thought about his piercing eyes. She’d caught him staring at her more than once today and her fluttering pulse was entirely unwelcome. She was tired of men objectifying her. He could keep his wandering eyes to himself. If she were honest though, she’d have to admit that his interest had seemed appreciative yes, but not leering or creepy.

He was a bit too cocky for his own good.Whois that confident? He waltzed in like he’d been reading scripts his whole life. He might say he was in over his head, but his attitude belied his words. Men. They were so damn entitled. They never had to worry about power…they were born into it. She frowned.I’ve become a certified cynic.But with good reason. They’ll use you and abuse you if you give them an inch!

A chill went down her spine when she flashed back to her early days in Hollywood. That had been the end of her innocence. A few foolish choices had cost her dearly. But she kept those secrets and memories locked away. She’d finally put to rest her worry that one day her past would resurface to haunt her. If it was going to be uncovered, it already would have been.

She locked her bike to the rack beneath the car port and went straight inside to don her swimsuit. She put on a white bikini and floppy pink hat, grabbed Archie, a towel and headed outside to the pool.

Her phone pinged with a text from her make-up artist Dolly.

Penelope: Can’t wait for you to get here. So much to tell you. Noah is still an ass and the new co-star is going to make some waves I’m sure. I’ll tell you all about it when you get here.

Dolly: So excited! See you Friday. Can’t wait to hear all of the juicy deets.

Penelope smiled and set her phone aside. Dolly was the only one she trusted with her hair and her confessions. They’d worked together for over three years and Penelope didn’t know what she’d do without her. Dolly had been a rock after her mom had died and that had solidified their friendship. At Penelope’s insistence, they’d be roommates during filming. The house was huge, and she needed a friend.

She threw her hat on the lounger and dove into the pool. The cool water felt like silk against her skin and soothed her tense muscles. She ducked under and touched the bottom before springing back to the surface. Rubbing her eyes, she turned onto her back and floated, the sun warming her exposed skin. She let her whole body relax, suspended like a jelly fish. With her ears submerged she heard her own breath as if through a tunnel.

A muffled voice startled her out of her reverie. She kicked her legs and feet to tread water as she glared at Noah, who stood towering in his swim trunks, dipping his big toe into the water.

“Hey beautiful. Mind if I join you?”

“Do I have a choice?” she said irritably.

“Nope,” he said, jumping in with a big splash.

He emerged and shook out his hair, slicking it back from his movie-star-handsome face. A face that used to make her weak-kneed every time she looked at him. No longer. He had successfully extinguished that flame.

“What did ya think?”

“About?”

“Our new co-star?”

She shrugged. “He has something.”

“He seems to have a little crush on our headliner.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Whatever you say. He’s a bit sure of himself.”

Contrarily even though she’d been thinking the same thing, she defended Griffin, “He’s just confident. Good thing too. Can you imagine how you’d feel? Can you picture yourself auditioning for an orchestra without any training? I was quite impressed.”

“Oh really? You sure hid it well. You seemed pretty pissy to me.”

She flushed, “I did not.”

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