Come A Little Bit Closer (The Sullivans #7)(2)

Smith couldn’t wait to begin filming Gravity.

The young woman in the middle of the sidewalk was utterly beautiful, and yet, the way she moved, dressed, wore her hair with pink streaks, her makeup artfully smudged and dark around her eyes, gave her away in an instant as an overwhelmed early-twentysomething on her own in a big city for the first time. With wide eyes she took in San Francisco; the buildings, the traffic, the people rushing all around her, the fog that was rolling in from the bay. For a moment, her mouth almost curved into a smile, but a flash of something that looked too much like fear held that smile back from her full lips.

A stray dog skittered over her cheap red plastic boots and the longing on the girl’s face as she squatted to reach out to the mangy animal was almost painful. Instead of coming toward her open hand, the dirty little dog turned and ran as fast as it could in the other direction.

Big green eyes suddenly filled with the slightest sheen of tears, then were blinked away just as quickly. It was impossible not to wish for her to find happiness, and love, and everything else she’d come to San Francisco to find.

Down the street, a businessman dressed in a dark suit, impeccably tailored and very, very expensive, was talking on a phone and moving fast, faster than anyone else on the sidewalk. His conversation held his complete attention, his expression forbidding as he issued directives one after another in a hard voice. Everything about him spoke to his power...and to just how closed off his heart was.

Fury crossed the man’s face a beat before he spoke loudly into his phone, his entire attention turned to his conversation so that he didn’t take notice of anyone on the street around him. There wasn’t even the slightest pause in his gait as he kicked the girl who was still squatting, staring after the dog who hadn’t dared to trust her.

Thousand-dollar Italian shoes jabbed hard into her stomach, and as she cried out in pain, that was when he finally stopped cursing into his phone, looked down at the dirty sidewalk, and noticed her.

It was the ultimate picture of how far the girl had fallen. And yet, in that moment when she should have been cringing, her fear and sadness finally receded.

This time, she was the angry one, and even though the man had kicked her hard enough to shove the air from her lungs, she was young and agile enough to be back up on her feet and in the man’s face less than thirty seconds later.

It didn’t matter that she was so much smaller than he. It didn’t matter that his clothes were worth more than what she’d managed to save over the past year working double shifts in the ice cream shop in her hometown.

It didn’t even matter to her that people had stopped on the sidewalk to watch the scene.

“Do you think you’re the only person who matters?” she yelled at him. “Talking on your phone, ignoring everyone, kicking anyone who gets in your way?”

Before he could answer, she got closer and poked him in the chest.

“I matter, too!” Her mouth trembled now, just barely, but somehow she managed to get it under control as she said again, “I matter, too.”

Throughout her tirade, the man stared down her, the phone still to his ear, his dark eyes utterly unreadable. He was clearly surprised by what had happened. Not just that he’d stumbled over her, but by the way she had sprung up to scream at him. And yet, there was more than surprise in his eyes.

There was awareness that had nothing to do with anger...and everything to do with her incredible beauty, made even more potent by the flush on her cheeks and the fire in her eyes.

Everything that surrounded the two of them fell away as she searched the businessman’s face for a reaction, but he was impossible to read—and on a sound of disgust, she pushed away from him and started to move back down the sidewalk.

But before she could get lost in the crowd, a large, strong hand wrapped around her upper arm and stopped her from getting away. She whipped around to shake him off. “Get the he—”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice resonated with genuine regret—deeper, truer, than anyone who worked with him might have thought he was capable of feeling. Even, perhaps, the man himself.

Bravado had been all that held the young woman together. And in that moment, as a man who had never apologized to anyone for anything in his life actually did, she lost hold of the strength she’d been clinging to by her fingernails.

Her first tear had barely begun to fall when she finally pulled herself free and started running through the crowds, intent on getting away from the man whose apology had touched her despite herself.

The man’s deep voice called out to the girl with the pink streaks in her hair as he pushed through the crowd, but she was small and fast and lost him at the busy Union Square intersection.

As the rest of the world rushed around him, most people either talking or texting on their phones, their attention on anything but the people around them, the man stood perfectly still.

And utterly alone.

Valentina Landon held her breath until “Cut!” rang out. Moments later, applause and cheering came from the crew who had been held spellbound by the scene.

Somehow, she got her hands to work, to come together in a basic approximation of clapping, but she was too moved by what she’d seen to put anything behind it. It was the first scene on the first day of filming Gravity, but the story had immediately grabbed for her gut and twisted it. Hard enough that she was practically wincing even as she waited to find out what happened next. Smith Sullivan had not only written the screenplay, but he was also directing, producing, and starring in the film.