Page 133 of Love on the Byline

She leaned against the building and pulled out her phone.

BLAKE: Hey. I’m on property, waiting for my photographer.Are we on schedule?

OLLIE: Yes, all set. Where are you, exactly?

Blake looked around for a location reference.

BLAKE: Outside the restroom across from stage 39. There’sa giant flamingo leaning against the wall.

OLLIE: Stay put.

Blake felt the grin pulling at her mouth as she tucked herphone away. It was ridiculous, the giddy excitement bubbling beneath her skinas she waited for Ollie to appear.

She couldn’t say she felt like a teenager, because she’dskipped the kind of blushing, fumbling, awkward relationships her friends hadin high school. In college, she dated infrequently, and only fell into onesemi-serious relationship that was more study-partner-with-benefits than whirlwindromance.

But this thing with Oliver, it had the potential forsomething real. Scary as hell but real. The chemistry between them manifestedin small things—a brush of hands across hips, the sweet warmth from his armwhen he held her close, or the touch-and-go kisses that left her body tinglingfor more.

It would be easy to fall for someone like him, which was whyshe needed to get a grip on herself.

If things went to plan, she’d be out of a job by the end ofthe day. And then what?

It was difficult to think rational thoughts when the man inquestion was walking towards her with a shy grin on his kissable mouth and abottle of water in his hands.

“I snuck away from the set,” he said, handing her the tall,cold bottle.

“Oh my God, bless you for this.” She was so thirsty. “Howdid you know?”

“You always forget to stay hydrated.”

The condensation sluiced away in glistening drops as shestared down at it. She could feel his eyes on her as she lifted her head todrink. The cold felt like a kiss against her lips, and she shivered at thefeeling of it sliding down her throat. She bit off a curse as the chill seepeddown the front of her blouse and settled around her nipples.

It was impossible to miss the way Ollie’s grin dissolved intosomething else, or the way he looked her over like she was a meal and he wascontemplating where to start eating.

She lowered the bottle and raised her hand to wipe hermouth, but he reached forward. She froze as he swept his thumb across her lips,his gaze so hot and hungry she swayed involuntarily closer.

“Ahem,” a voice to the right of them said.

Blake turned to find an amused Stewart, his gaze pingingbetween them.

“Stewart DeLillo.” He held out his hand.

It took Ollie a moment to respond. “Oliver Benjamin.” Henodded towards the camera bag. “You have everything you need?”

“I didn’t bring lights, since you have your own setupplanned.”

They followed Ollie, passing rows of trailers and lotvehicles on their way to meet Bran.

“We’re using a living room from one of the weeklies,” Olliesaid. “Bran wanted a neutral location, and this set is not in use this week.”

When they reached stage forty-two, Ollie opened the door andushered them inside. She felt his hand on the small of her back as she passedhim and smiled to herself.

Bran was standing on the brightly lit living room set,Noelia talking at him animatedly while he nodded and frowned.

The scent of the food truck they’d walked by, the sharp odorof vinegar from the set dressing table, and the metallic smell of the lightcasings mixed with the disinfectant from the cleaning cart in the corner. Butthe set was beautiful, appointed with a sleek, contemporary style she mightexpect to find in the living area of a suburban home.

She walked over to the ivory sofa and matching armchairs.“This will do nicely.”

“Certainly makes my job easier,” Stewart said looking up atthe lights. “I don’t even think I need to adjust anything, but I’ll take a fewreadings.”

---