Just the Sexiest Man Alive(90)

Sam approached her from behind. “I don’t want to play hardball with you, Taylor. I respect you far too much for that. But the firm has never before made an offer for early partnership to any associate. They’ve gone out on a limb here. If you don’t take this now, they’ll never offer it to you again.”

Taylor gazed out the window. “I know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem . . . is that it seems I’ve become rather attached to this city.”

Sam wasn’t fooled. “I know what you’re attached to, Taylor. But you need to be pragmatic about this. You know his reputation.”

She remained silent.

Sam persisted. “Come on—what do you think? That it won’t be that way with you? That you’re different?” He shook his head. “You can’t honestly believe that.”

When Taylor still didn’t answer, Sam looked over.

“Do you?”

Taylor stared out at the city below.

Actually . . . yes. She did believe it.

Her voice was soft, barely audible. “I do.”

Sam’s head snapped back, surprised. “Do you really? Are you willing to risk your career on that?”

Taylor turned around. “I think that for him, I’d risk everything.”

With that, she apologized to Sam and walked out of his office. She felt as though an enormous weight suddenly had been lifted off her shoulders. And she felt steadier, more confident than ever in knowing exactly what she wanted.

Okay, Jason Andrews, she thought. Game on.

TAYLOR RUSHED BY her secretary’s desk on her way to the elevators.

“Linda—I need you to go to the mail room and put a hold on all the boxes we’re shipping to Chicago.”

Hearing the urgency in her voice, Linda jumped to attention.

“Why? Oh my gosh, what’s happening? Wait—does this mean you’re staying in Los Angeles?” She hurried after Taylor, following her down the hall.

When they hit the elevator bank, Taylor pushed the down button. “I don’t know—I guess that’s what I’m about to find out.”

The elevator doors opened and she turned to Linda. “Wish me luck,” she said, stepping inside. She stopped after taking two steps into the elevator. And stepped right back out.

Taylor glanced over at her secretary. “What day is today?”

Linda had to think for a moment. “Thursday. The fourteenth. Why?”

Taylor immediately checked her watch, then swore under her breath.

“What? What is it?” Linda asked.

Taylor turned to her, her eyes filled with horror.

“He’s at his premiere.”

Thirty-four

THE SPECTACLE IN front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater was unlike anything Taylor had ever seen.

Cameras, reporters, media vans, even a helicopter—every form of entertainment coverage and accoutrement thereto had shown up for the big Jason Andrews event, the premiere of his summer blockbuster, Inferno.

And the fans. Oh my gosh, the fans. Taylor warily checked them out as well.

An enormous screaming crowd had gathered in front of the theater, lining up along both sides of the red carpet. They cheered, they clamored, they swarmed. All in the hopes of catching just one glimpse of their hero.

Standing across the street from the mob scene, Taylor wondered for the twenty-seventh time since hopping in her car what the hell she was doing. It was madness. Pure insanity.

But it was also Jason’s life.

And if she wanted to be a part of that life, she’d better start getting used to it. Like, immediately.

Suddenly, she heard the crowd roar with a renewed fervor. The chaotic screams and cheers could mean only one thing.

Jason had arrived.

Taylor watched nervously from across the street. She had never backed down from anything in her life and wasn’t about to start now. It was time to rise to the challenge, to face her fears. It was time to woman up.

So with a determined look, she crossed the street and headed over to the theater.

Oh god.

TAYLOR FOUGHT HER way through the crowd. This was no small feat given that there were some really stubborn people at that premiere, all who seemed to think they had some sort of right to see Jason Andrews. It took a lot of pushing and shoving, but she finally made her way to the entrance of the red carpet walkway.

Where an impenetrable wall of security guards loomed before her.

Their bulging arms were folded over their massive chests. Their faces never cracked a smile. They stood side by side in a row and glared down at Taylor, who suddenly felt about two inches tall.

The center guard raised one eyebrow disdainfully at her.

“Can I help you?”

Taylor almost laughed out loud at what she had to say in response.

“Yes, well, you probably won’t believe this—and I apologize for the unoriginality—but it’s very important that I get inside this premiere.”

The guard rolled his eyes. Oh, if he had a dime.

“Are you on the list?” he asked dispassionately.

“Now that’s the interesting thing,” Taylor said, pointing for emphasis. “I was on the list. But, see, then we had this argument, and I said some really awful things and I probably should have called him two days ago but if I had, then you and I wouldn’t be here having this lovely moment, hehe . . .” She attempted to charm the guard with a smile.