Just the Sexiest Man Alive(57)

Suddenly, he vehemently rapid-fired all three darts.

He turned and took a swig of his beer as Jeremy nodded, impressed. Over at the board, a dart pierced right through each of Scott Casey’s eyes. The third jutted out prominently from his throat.

“Not bad,” Jeremy said. “But perhaps this is a good time to discuss your anger management issues.”

Jason sat down at their bar table as Jeremy lined up for his turn at the board. “You don’t think Taylor really likes this guy, do you?”

Jeremy shrugged, about to throw. “I don’t know. I haven’t met too many women who wouldn’t be impressed by Scott Casey.” He pointed the darts at Jason, thinking. “Then again, I haven’t met any other woman who has been so wholly unimpressed by you, so maybe there’s hope yet.”

Jason didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, he looked utterly miserable. Jeremy gave up his position at the dartboard and took a seat.

“Come on, Jason—what’s going on with you and this girl? This isn’t like you.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“Then what is it?”

Jason sighed. “I don’t know . . .” He looked over at Jeremy, suddenly serious. “All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to sigh. “Ahh . . . the friend zone. Have I been there.”

The two of them sat in dejected silence. Then Jeremy thought of something.

“Hey—you know what you need? You need a real guy’s night out. None of this pansy-ass Hollywood nightclub shit. I heard about this poker game going on tonight. Just a few writers I know, nothing high stakes. We can smoke cigars, drink some Macallan, talk about—”

“Poker?” Jason’s eyes lit up feverishly. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you’d be interested, given your track record.”

“So I’ve been dealt a few bad hands,” Jason said dismissively. “Who hasn’t?”

Jeremy fought back his grin. The poor guy really had no idea. Any poker player worth his salt picked up on the whole watch thing in two hands or less. That was why he had subtly steered Jason toward craps a few years ago, when they had started going to Vegas and Jason had begun gambling serious money.

Of course, Jeremy supposed, a better man would’ve simply told his friend about his little tell. But as long as Jason never got into any serious trouble—hey, as long as he was still driving friggin’ Aston Martins and living in twenty-five-million-dollar houses—Jeremy saw no harm in keeping quiet. Every once in a while, it came in quite handy to be able to tell when Jason was lying. Like that time, years ago, when he had insisted he’d lost Speed to Keanu because the director had said he was “too tall” for the shots on the bus.

So Jeremy remained quiet this time as well. “Yes, that’s right, Jason,” he said reassuringly. “You’ve been dealt some bad hands. That’s all.”

Jason eagerly rubbed his hands together. “And that means I’m due—I can feel the gods of luck smiling down on me.” He pointed at Jeremy, highly confident. “You better be careful tonight. I’d hate for you to lose all your mac-and-cheese money.”

To keep his mouth shut, Jeremy took a long swig of his beer. After polishing it off, he set the bottle down on the table and gestured to the door. “Should we go then?”

Jason nodded, and Jeremy followed him out the bar.

He had the funniest feeling steak dinners were about to be back on the week’s menu.

LATER THAT NIGHT, Taylor let herself into her apartment. Not in the mood for a sudden flood of light, she turned on just one lamp in the living room. She kicked off her heels and sunk into the couch.

She wasn’t exactly an expert—this having been her first, first date in several years—but she felt that an objective third party would have to say that the night had gone relatively well.

Her thoughts drifted back to what had been the turning point of the evening: the moment when she had hung up the phone with Jason and noticed Scott standing in the doorway. She could immediately tell by the look on his face that he knew who she’d been talking to.

“You should be careful around him,” Scott said flatly.

Taylor tucked her phone into her purse. Yes, well, thanks for the news flash.

“We’re just friends,” she replied.

Scott took a seat next to her at the dining table. “So it’s friends now? I thought you said you and Jason were just business associates.”

Taylor toyed with her wineglass. She wasn’t sure she owed him any further explanation. They had known each other all of what—six days?

“We’re just friends, Scott,” she repeated simply.

Seeming to sense her wariness, Scott took his questioning down a notch. “I’m just worried about you, gorgeous, that’s all. I know plenty of women who have had their hearts broken by Jason Andrews. It’s not a pretty sight.” He paused. “In fact, this friend of mine . . .” He trailed off, waving his hand. “Never mind, you don’t need to hear this stuff.”

Taylor thought about this. Did she? Perhaps whatever Scott had to say was exactly what she needed to hear. The lawyer in her decided it was best to have all the facts.