Hollywood Dirt (Hollywood Dirt, #1)(72)

Justin pulled back the private curtain, and they came face to face with pure fury in the form of a six-foot-two Italian.

Brad Fucking DeLuca.





CHAPTER 77


“Jesus…” Cole stepped back, the man glowering at them like he was ready to pull them apart.

“How did you get back here?” Justin snapped back the rest of the curtain, oblivious to their impending demise, and glared toward the restaurant. “We rented out the pool deck.”

“My wife just became best friends with the manager. And a thousand bucks got me a first class ticket to your cuddle session.” Justin started to speak, and DeLuca turned to him, holding up a hand. “Get the f*ck out of my face and let me talk to my client alone.”

Justin blanched, his eyes moving to Cole, who nodded. “Stand outside and make sure no one comes around.” This was bad. He ticked through his conversation with Justin, his eyes closing in dread. There was the pull of curtains, and then they were alone.

“What I just did to get here any paparazzi could have done,” Brad spoke quietly, his eyes on Cole’s.

“Justin’s never gotten me in trouble. He cleared the place, I thought we were—”

“Sit down and shut up for a moment.” Brad pointed to a chair, and he fell into it.

“I can’t deal with your lectures this morning,” Cole said wearily, rubbing his eyes and wishing he had ordered a drink with breakfast instead of juice.

“Is your assistant correct?” Brad sat down, across from him, leaning forward in the chair, and the lowered stature caused the tight knot in Cole’s back to lessen a little. “If this is something else, then just tell me and we can attack it from a different side.”

“What?” Cole cracked open an eye and looked at Brad.

“I’ve been told to stay away from someone before. It made me chase her down like she was a wounded gazelle. Now, she ended up being my soulmate.” Brad sat back in his chair. “Chances are that this woman isn’t yours. But I’m not gonna fuel any sexual tension between the two of you by telling you to stay away from her.”

Cole tried to understand. “So… you’re telling me I can date her?”

“I’m telling you that I need to know what is going on so that I can control the media and—more importantly—the judge and Nadia’s take on it. I can’t do my job if you are keeping things from me.”

Cole sighed. “I don’t know what’s up with this girl.” He spread his hands. “That’s the truth of it. I don’t think she even likes me.”

“But you like her.”

Cole closed his eyes. “I don’t know. Yes, I like her as a person. She’s different than… well, any of the women around here.” And she was. She was tough and strong but also soft. Soft in all of the ways that pulled on his heart and his dick. “I like her as a person,” he repeated. “But I can’t see us together. It’d never work.”

She’d never want him. That was the truth of the matter. It wasn’t insecurity talking. He just wasn’t the type of man that she would go for. She’d laugh in his face if he ever tried. And the reality was, when you pushed all of the attraction and chemistry bullshit aside, he wasn’t at a place in his life where he could take that. Not right now. And definitely not from her.

“So that’s it?” Brad pushed. “You like her, but you guys aren’t compatible. How was the sex?”

“What?”

“How was the sex?” Brad repeated the question slowly and clearly. The man had no shame.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. It absolutely matters. I don’t want to know the placement of your dick; I just want to know if it was dreary or life-shattering.”

“It was great.” Cole looked away. “And disappointing.”

The big man waited, in no apparent rush to make their mediation on time. When Cole didn’t elaborate, he pushed. “Explain.”

“I’ll sound like a *.” Cole exhaled, regretting this path of honesty.

“It’s just you and me here. And I love *. Give it to me.”

Cole winced. “She was on her stomach. It felt disconnected.”

“Are you a typically a ‘make love’ type of guy?”

“No.” Cole rubbed his thighs and wished in that moment to be anywhere else. “I f*ck.” And he did. That was the name of the Cole Masten Bedroom Show: Fucking. Even with Nadia, especially with Nadia. That was what they did. That was really all they ever did. Just another relationship realization a half-decade too late.

“So…” Brad mused. “You had sex with her, and it was great, but you wanted to have more of a connection with her. You like her, but blah-blah-blah you two are too different for it to work. Do you hear the giant holes in this?”

Cole met his eyes. “What do you want from me? Are you trying to convince me to date the girl?” He shook his head. “I’m a little confused over here.”

“I want you to be happy. I want to do my job so that you can move past this divorce and have a chance at normality.”

“Normality?” Cole laughed, raising his hands in exasperation. “I’m in a roped off room with my assistant standing bodyguard, in a town I don’t even fit into anymore, late to a conversation with my wife and her attorneys who—six f*cking weeks ago were my attorneys—to discuss division of a life that I was pretty happy with. Normality in Hollywood is as twisted as our deals.”