Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(88)

“Are you hungry?” he asks before pressing soft kisses against my lips.

I run my fingers through his hair, just enjoying having him close. “Only for you.”

“Bed, then?”

“Yep.”

We head into the bedroom, and feast on each other until Josh texts me that it’s time to go. After cleaning up and reluctantly getting dressed, I head to the door. Liam follows, dressed only in his boxers. He opens the door just as Josh is about to knock.

Josh drops his hand and turns to me. “Are you trying to give me an inferiority complex? He can’t ever say good-bye to you with clothes on?”

I slap his arm. “Shut your filthy mouth. If I had my way, he’d never wear clothes.” I turn to a bemused Liam and stretch up on my toes to kiss him. “See you next week. I miss you already.”

He shrugs. “Eh, I’ve decided not to miss you. It’s not convenient for me. Sorry.”

I laugh and kiss him again, then head to the elevator with Josh. Liam watches from his doorway, and yells, “I’ll call you,” just before the doors close and deprive me of his half-naked glory.


Good to his word, Liam calls me several times a day while I’m imprisoned in the theater. He leaves me a ridiculous amount of messages, and each one makes me miss him a little more.

As for Josh and me, we spend every waking moment working: overseeing set construction, cleaning and outfitting dressing rooms, labeling and organizing props, and of course, sitting in the auditorium for hours taking endless notes as Marco and the lighting designer plot every cue in the show.

By Sunday night, I’m exhausted. I’ve just collapsed onto my bed when my phone rings.

I check caller ID and smile. “Hey, handsome man.”

He exhales in relief. “Hey. God, I miss you.”

“Me, too.”

“How’s everything going at the theater?”

“Fine. Long hours, but we’re all set up and ready for tech runs tomorrow. How was your day?”

“Good. Kind of. I finally convinced Anthony to have lunch with me. I broke it to him about Angel and me wanting out of the contract after the show opens.”

A flutter of nerves hits me. “And?”

He sighs. “He was shocked. A bit pissed, I guess. He’s been orchestrating our love affair for so long, I think he’s actually going to miss it.”

“But he agreed to talk to the producers about the contract?”

“He did, but he thinks it’s a mistake to break the contract. He said we’ll have our asses handed to us because the agreement is watertight. I told him I don’t care, that I want out and I’ll do anything to make that happen.”

The sound of his voice soothes me so much, I can’t stop my eyes from drifting closed. “So how did things end up?”

“He said he’d figure something out. After all, he still works for me. He has to act in my best interests, right?”

“Right.”

I try to stifle a yawn, but it happens anyway.

“You should sleep,” he says, and even though I want to talk more, I can’t deny I’m barely conscious.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?”

“Yep. I’ll be there at nine. Probably salivating at the sight of you. You in early again?”

“Uh-huh. Seven a.m.”

“Okay, get some rest. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I hang up and start to tell myself to get up and brush my teeth, but I’m asleep before I even finish the thought.





NINETEEN


ONE SMALL PROBLEM


The next morning, Josh and I have just arrived at the theater when Marco finds me backstage and takes my arm.

“Elissa, you need to come with me.” His expression is grave. I tense up, because I get the impression something is very wrong, and I don’t have time for screwups today.

I follow Marco into the production office, where Ava and Mary are waiting. Ava gestures to the chair opposite her at the small meeting table.

“Elissa, have a seat.”

I do as she asks, and Marco sits beside me. Now I’m really worried. Ava and Mary look even more stressed than Marco.

“Elissa, I’ve had a disturbing e-mail this morning from an anonymous source, and I need you to clarify some things.”

“Okay.”

“An accusation has been made against you regarding your level of professionalism on this show. Now, as you know, we’ve already been plagued by scandal, so the last thing we need is for any other indiscretions to be made public. You understand what I’m saying?”

The question takes me by surprise. As soon I fully comprehend what she’s said, a thick knot of dread coils in my stomach.

I look from Ava to Marco, and then to Mary. “Ava, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Ava links her fingers together. “Is it true that you’ve been visiting Liam Quinn in his apartment every night after rehearsals?”

Adrenaline shoots through every vein. I’m lost for words. I’m always super-careful to be strictly professional on my shows, so I’ve never had reason to be questioned like this.

Well, now there’s reason. And if it got out, it would be the scandal that echoed around the world.