Page 92 of Torrid Passion
“Hey, man. Long time.” Kyla’s older brother takes me in a bro hug. “You’re a bigshot exec now. No time for us little folks.”
As if.
“You know how it is at the top,” I joke.
“Damn right and the view from this high up is pretty sweet,” he jokes back.
He should know.
Keller works alongside his father, uncles and several cousins. The O’Keeffe family lives, moves and breathes among the Hollywood hyper-rich and hyper-influential. They are a force.
I focus on the brunette I haven’t seen in a week. “Kyla, you’re back.”
“I am,” she says nervously.
“It’s been a while.” I take a step closer and dip my head so my lips flirt with her ear, “You look incredible tonight,” I whisper before dropping a chaste kiss on her cheek.
Fuck. I’m way more turned on than I should be.
Sidelining the sudden burst of lust consuming me in an attempt at good manners, I take a step back.
“Oh, she’s been back for two months now,” Mrs. O’Keeffe says. “I guess this is the first time you’ve seen her since she moved back.” I don’t correct her. Neither does Kyla. “Wasn’t the last time Paris?” I simply raise my eyebrows in response. “I guess it’s different now. Since Harlow is still in Paris, you two might not see each other as often.” Kyla averts her gaze. “Interestingly she just got back from New York again.”
“I see,” I nod. “You were in New York?” I ask, innocently.
“Yes. Um. A conference.” That came out sounding awkward.
“I was supposed to speak at this annual conference for scriptwriters, but the production studio is cracking the whip,” Mrs. O’Keeffe stares at her husband.
“What?” he chuckles. “I’m not the director. I just finance this stuff.”
“As I was saying,” Mrs. O’Keeffe continues. “I had to stay put in LA so I sent Kyla on my behalf. From what I hear, my baby girl did me proud.”
“Mom,” Kyla says, embarrassed.
“Of course she would,” Mr. O’Keeffe chimes in. “Our baby girl is following in her mom’s footsteps. Soon, she’ll be the most talked about screenwriter in Hollywood. Mark my words. Kyla O’Keeffe’s star will soon shine bright!”
“Dad,” Kyla’s face is beet red.
“Yeah, in no time my kid sister will own this town,” Keller adds his two cents.
Kyla and I stare at each other.
I can’t even start to read her mind.
Why the hell did you leave like a thief in the night?
“Loki, dare I say you’re more and more handsome,” Mrs. O’Keeffe says, forcing my attention back to her.
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Mr. O’Keeffe says. “A beauty queen can only produce a handsome son.”
A light laughter ripples from Mrs. O’Keeffe’s chest. “You just love bringing that up, Kieran.”
“Clearly you’remyMiss Universe—”
“Oh, stop it. No, keep going,” Mrs. O’Keeffe swats her husband’s arm.
We all laugh.
