Page 38 of Love on the Byline

Friend.

“We’re okay,” Ollie said.

Bran visibly relaxed. “Sorry I didn’t listen to you before,about the phone security stuff. I never thought…” He trailed off, shaking hishead as he returned to look out the window. Cars passed in muted shadows, theoccasional glint of sunshine penetrating the dark tint. “I didn’t think it wouldhappen to me. I guess I thought I was—”

“Immune?”

Bran shrugged. “Being careful. Guess that was my arrogance.Again,” he added bitterly.

“Good thing that’s your only flaw,” Ollie teased with ahalf-hearted laugh.

Bran’s laugh was equally perfunctory. “Yeah.”

The truth was, the breach wasn’t his fault. People should beable to store whatever they wanted on their phones without some assholetrolling for compromising photos and texts to use against them.

Despite his bravado, he didn’t think Bran understood howfast his star was rising. He was now a target for every jilted lover, jealousupstart, and over-zealous papp looking to make a quick score.

As his executive assistant, one of Ollie’s responsibilitieswas helping to keep Bran’s private and public lives separate. He had let theirfriendship, his love for his best friend, cloud his judgment. From now on, hewould insist on locking things up tight.

Ninety minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of amodern, two-story house tucked away on a quiet street near the ocean. Bran haddozed off, drooling a little and looking more like the frat boy he had known incollege than the movie star he was quickly becoming.

“We’re here.” He said it louder than was necessary, andstifled a laugh when Bran jumped.

Yawning, he rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Where is here,again?”

Conrad got out and opened the door for him.

Ollie opened his own door, stretching after he stepped outof the car.

“Holy shit.” Bran turned his wide eyes to him.

“Surprise.”

“Holy shit!” A blinding smile split his face beforehe turned back to look at the wood and concrete structure.

For several months, he had been looking for the sort ofshowcase home Bran associated with his idols. Heron House had been on a list ofproperties Ollie had kept in his back pocket.

Personally, he found it to be too much. Too big, tooostentatious, and too damned expensive. But he’d arranged to rent it for ashort time, after filming wrapped next week. It was meant to be a retreat aftertheir grueling schedule, and a taste of the kind of lifestyle Bran dreamed ofbut couldn’t quite yet afford.

Bran stood with his jaw hanging open. “I’m afraid to askwhat this goes for.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He led the way acrossthe short bridge that took them over the moat—yes, the place had a moat—and tothe front entrance. Keying in the code that unlocked the door, he disarmed thealarm before flicking on the lights.

“Damn,” Conrad said as he stood in the doorway. “Is italright if I use the bathroom?”

Ollie pointed to the right side of a floor-to-ceiling woodpanel set seamlessly into a wall of polished concrete. “Push there.”

Frowning, the driver followed directions, opening the doorto reveal a gleaming glass and travertine powder room. He let out a low whistleas he stepped inside. “I’m afraid to touch anything in here, much less piss init.”

“It’s just a bathroom.”

“Nothing in this place is just anything,” Conradsaid, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “I’ll, uh, hit the head and then geton the road, unless you need me.”

“We’re parked here for the night.” Ollie waved him off. “Butkeep your phone handy, just in case.”

“Always.” Conrad disappeared into the washroom.

Ollie’s phone pinged.

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