Page 39 of Blood Stone
Sauvage had an annual booking at Betty Ford.
All the sordid details and media headlines flickered through Roman’s memory as Sauvage sailed across the bar, smiling and nodding at various people as he passed. He even stopped once or twice to sign autographs. His smile was at full wattage, and he looked like he’d just spent forty days at a health spa. He was tanned, fit and glowing with good health.
The security guy gently shepherded him over to the pool area.
Everyone at their table was turned to watch the superstar descend upon them, now. His arrival had stopped the conversation and yanked their attention around to the centre of the lounge.
Everyone except Garrett’s assistant. Hers was the one head not facing toward Sauvage. She was watching the TV screens behind Roman, utterly disinterested in Sauvage’s entrance. Then she looked down at her computer tablet, absorbed in the text on the screen.
Curioser and curioser. Roman catalogued her for future study.
Sauvage spotted Garrett and his smile turned into a genuine one, full of warmth and dazzling good cheer.
“I’ll be damned,” Roman murmured, as Garrett got to his feet.
Kate shot him a look.
Garrett and Sauvage hugged, and it was not French airy thing. It was a solid expression of friendship.
Roman leaned toward Kate. “That’s how he’s getting him for five,” he murmured. “He knows Sauvage well enough to either pull in a favour...or something bigger.”
“What could be bigger?” she murmured back.
Roman raised his brow.
“Oh...” she breathed, her eyes widening as she turned back to look at Sauvage. Roman knew she was trying to instantly reassess Sauvage in light of the possibility that he and Garrett were now or were once lovers.
Garrett gave up his seat, putting Sauvage directly opposite Kate. It was a strategic move, Roman realized. Sauvage had charm and magnetism to spare, and he would pour it all on Kate, his future director and producer.
Garrett took the chair next to Sauvage and everyone else shuffled around and settled back down.
“Kate, do you know Patrick?”
Patrick held out his hand. “We’ve never had the fortune to formally work together, although we’ve rubbed elbows at awards here and there. Hi, Kate.” He didn’t beam at her. “I hear you’ve got concerns about casting me.”
Roman sat forward, as Kate’s studiously blank expression slid into place. She cleared her throat. “I do,” she said after a few seconds. “I’m not a producer with an endless pocket. You’re currently outside my economic reach. Garrett seems to feel differently.”
Sauvage nodded. “He showed me your script. I want the part, Kate. It’s perfect for me, and I’m perfect for your movie.” Again, he wasn’t smiling. No charm. Just business. Roman could feel tendrils of admiration curling up inside him again, despite his need to despise what Garrett was doing to Kate. Sauvage was playing it straight. And he had exposed his cards for everyone to see. No bullshit. No hype. Down to business. Kate would find that hard to resist. It was her style of doing things.
Kate drew in a breath and let it out before she responded. “I’ve been talking to someone else.”
“I heard you were considering Greg Evershot,” Sauvage replied. His lips thinned. “He’s a fine actor,” he said flatly. “He’ll do a wonderful job.”
Even Roman was familiar with the standard Hollywood euphemism for saying an actor was full of shit, and couldn’t act for peanuts. He winced.
Kate smiled briefly. “I can’t afford you, Patrick.”
“You can if I come in at five.”
She licked her lips, glancing at Garrett. “Why on earth would you take a pay cut like that?”
Sauvage considered for a moment. “Between us, let’s just call it personal reasons. When you write the press release, you can tell them I believe so strongly in your movie, I wanted in badly enough to take the cut.”
Roman glanced at Garrett and found he was watching him. Roman sat back in his chair. There was something more at work here. It wasn’t just a favour, or even a very personal favour.
Kate’s breath was more rapid now, and Roman could detect the coppery smell of adrenaline in her aroma. She was excited, or afraid, or aroused. Or all three. But she was containing it. Hiding it...except she didn’t know that Garrett would be able to sense it, too.
Roman reached under the table, and squeezed her denim-clad knee, as a warning. He kept his hand in place, soothing her thigh with long strokes.
