Passion on Park Avenue (Central Park Pact #1)(53)

“You sure?”

Naomi opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Damn it. She wasn’t sure.





MONDAY, OCTOBER 22

Is this lip gloss too extra?”

Naomi didn’t even glance up from her phone as she replied to her assistant. “Deena, there’s not a thing about you that’s not extra.”

“Which normally I take as a compliment . . .”

“Meant as one.” Naomi continued to type on her phone.

“But, I’m worried the sparkle will look too garish on camera.”

“Wait, what?” Naomi finally looked up. She and her assistant were sitting at a conference room table at StarZone’s Flatiron headquarters while they waited for Dylan and the rest of the team to join them. “You know that we’re not actually filming today, or anytime soon, right? They’ve barely started the script.”

“But the casting director will be here, right?” Deena asked, adding an extra coat of gloss that really did seem to have more glitter than a kindergarten art project.

“I want it to be known that the best person to play Deena is, in fact, the actual Deena. Not some bimbo poser.”

“Noted. But I’m pretty sure the first season is going to be all about my childhood. Pre-Deena.”

“Damn.” Deena dropped the gloss back in her purse and pulled out a pack of gum. “Wintergreen?”

Naomi shook her head.

Her assistant shoved a stick in her mouth and studied Naomi. “So. This producer guy. Dylan Day. He’s hot, right?”

“Don’t make me regret inviting you,” Naomi muttered, turning her attention back to her phone.

“You need me. I’m going to take notes.”

“On what?” Naomi looked pointedly at the lack of notebook, laptop, or tablet.

Deena tapped her temple. “All up here. Big hair, big brain. So is he hot, or what? He looked hot that day in the office, but I only saw his butt. Do you know he dated the actress from that show about the sorority? She was pretty, but like half his age.”

Naomi nodded, even as she zoomed in on a picture of Audrey and Clarke on Instagram. Damn, that woman had good skin, even with those bitterness wrinkles.

“So are you guys dating?”

Naomi gave in and laughed. “Deena!”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that he’s basically the only person who has your direct number.”

“Which must mean we’ve eloped, right?”

“Your sarcasm is extra thick, which means I’m onto something.”

“Fine. Okay. We went to one dinner that was half date, half business meeting, and he was my date to a friend’s dinner party.”

“But he wants to do it again.” Deena didn’t ask it as a question, and she wasn’t wrong. Dylan had made no secret of his interest in seeing her again now that he was back from Dallas, but she’d been dodging, saying she was busy.

Which was true. Her job took up most of her days, and that was before she’d agreed to take on Walter Cunningham. Still, she didn’t regret offering to help. Walter had stayed with her all day last Wednesday and most of this morning before Serena had taken over so Naomi could attend this meeting. And as much as Naomi had enjoyed her time with Walter, she’d been even more surprised, and alarmed, to realize that she’d enjoyed the moment Oliver had come home in the evening even more.

And the way it had felt so right for the two of them to have dinner—for the second night in a row—was downright terrifying.

“Have you kissed yet?” Deena asked, snapping her gum.

“No! I’m just helping out with his dad for a few days.”

Deena’s jaw stopped working her gum for a moment. “You know Dylan Day’s dad? Damn, woman, you work fast.”

She was saved from having to explain—or trying to explain—the mess she’d gotten herself into with her new neighbor and ex-nemesis as the conference room doors opened.

“Sorry for the delay,” Dylan said, greeting them with a grin. “You must be Deena.”

“In the flesh,” Deena said, shaking his hand and giving him an unabashed once-over. “Yep. Hot.”

Naomi groaned, but Dylan only laughed and gave Naomi a quick wink.

How was it that a wink from Oliver Cunningham could keep her up all night, but a wink from this guy, who was exactly the type of guy she’d always gravitated toward . . . nothing.

The group took their places around the table, and a tall, wiry woman who introduced herself as Libby, the casting director, got right down to business.

“I’ve got our little Naomi.”

Naomi blinked. “What? Already?”

“Well, we’ll still have full casting calls to make sure, but I guarantee you’re going to flip over this kid. She’s based in LA, but her Bronx accent is spot-on.”

Naomi nodded, trying not to get hung up on the irony that she’d spent years trying to get rid of her New York accent, only to have some child star from Hollywood put on that very same accent for entertainment.

No, not just entertainment, Naomi reminded herself. Accuracy. The entire reason for doing this in the first place was so that girls growing up like Naomi did would know there was more than hairstylist and waitress jobs in their future if they wanted it.