Taylor tried to keep from rolling her eyes. It now was most definitely time to make her escape.

But Hayden, apparently (and quite mistakenly) believing his conversation skills were charming, moved closer to her.

“But perhaps we could continue this discussion further. Maybe sometime over dinner?”

Taylor shook her head regretfully. “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m really too busy with work these days.”

Hayden appeared quite offended—and surprised—by the rejection. “Is there a problem here? I own a restaurant with Bruckheimer, you know.”

Taylor tried not to smile. Ahh . . . Hollywood. Just when you might think all the stereotypes and clichés aren’t true, you realize, yep—they are.

She gave Hayden a look. “Aren’t you married?” Everyone knew his wife was an actress who had been in two of his movies.

“Separated,” he said insistently. “I haven’t spoken to my wife in months.”

Just then, a bouncer walked up to Hayden and Taylor, holding a cell phone.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone—but your wife is on the phone for you.”

Taylor watched in amusement as the director’s face turned red with embarrassment.

“And on that note . . . I think I’ll go,” she said.

She headed off to find a bathroom, the one place she hoped Hayden Stone wouldn’t try to follow her.


THE GUEST BATHROOM of the pool house had been richly designed in beige-and-black marble and dark mahogany wood, with a separate lounge area. With an appreciative glance, the lawyer in Taylor couldn’t help but think that if Jason ever did get married, he better have one hell of a prenup.

She had just shut the bathroom door when she heard the loud, gossipy voices of two women entering the lounge.

“It has to be her,” the first voice was saying. “She looks just like the woman in that photograph on the balcony at the Bellagio. And didn’t you see the way he stared when she first walked into the party?”

“But I thought he and Naomi Cross were supposedly hooking up on set,” the second voice said. “You know Amanda, who works in the mail room at Marty Shepherd’s firm? She told me that.”

It took her a moment, but Taylor realized that the women were talking about her and Jason. Such petty gossip. Thankfully, she was above that kind of nonsense.

She pressed her ear tightly against the door to hear better.

“That thing about Naomi is just a rumor,” the first woman said knowingly. “You know Max, the waiter at Mr. Chow? He told me that he was there when Jason had dinner with the Mystery Woman, and that he couldn’t take his eyes off her.”

Without meaning to, Taylor smiled at this.

“And supposedly,” the woman continued, “she made him smile. A lot.”

Taylor quickly thought back to their dinner. Yes . . . she had been particularly charming that evening.

“Do you think she’s a model?” the second woman asked.

A model? Wow. Behind the door, Taylor proudly tossed her hair back over her shoulders.

“I bet she has extensions.”

Taylor stopped, mid hair-toss. Her mouth opened defensively. Hold on there.

“And I think she’s got lip implants.” The second woman raised her voice in a mocking imitation. “Excuse me, doctor, I’d like the Angelina Jolie.”

Taylor’s hand self-consciously flew to her mouth.

“And what about her boobs?”

Taylor peered down at her chest. Okay—wait just a second there—

She heard the other woman scoff.

“Are you kidding? Who actually has real boobs anymore?”

“I don’t know—maybe that’s why Jason was smiling so much during their dinner.”

The two women shared a laugh at this.

Taylor heard their voices fade as they left the bathroom. She cautiously opened the door, stepped out into the lounge, and headed over to the mirror.

Of all the things the little trixies had said, two comments stuck with her most.

Jason had dinner with the Mystery Woman, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

And supposedly, she made him smile. A lot.

Taylor couldn’t help it—she felt a rush of excitement hearing this. She stared at her reflection in the mirror.

What had gotten into her these past few weeks?

First, she’d almost kissed Jason in Vegas. Then she’d made the decision to come to his party despite the fact that there was a pile of work waiting for her at home. Despite the fact that she definitely knew better.

Standing there, her mind wandered back to the way Jason had greeted her when she’d first walked into the party. He’d looked really happy to see her.

Maybe that look was genuine.

Maybe it wouldn’t kill her to be a little less cynical.

Maybe she should . . . well, she didn’t know exactly how to finish that thought, but maybe just thinking “maybe” was enough for now.

So Taylor gave herself a long, hard look in the mirror.

Then she smiled.

She turned and headed out of the bathroom, ready to rejoin the party. But she stopped just before she reached the door and glanced back in the mirror. She paused, then most discretely adjusted her dress to show a tad more cleavage.

Fake, huh?

Taylor grinned knowingly.

Like hell they were.


TAYLOR HAD JUST stopped off at the bar to refresh her drink when she heard a familiar drawl behind her.

“There you are, Ms. Donovan . . .”

A smile crossed her face. Just the man she was looking for. With a coy toss of her hair, she turned around and—

Found herself staring right at Naomi Cross.

Jason graciously made the introductions. “Taylor, I thought you might like to meet Naomi. She’s one of my costars in the film you’re helping me out with.”

He turned to the actress to explain. “Taylor’s the attorney I’ve been consulting on the script.”

Naomi shook Taylor’s hand. “Oh, so you’re the one who’s responsible for all the last-minute page changes they keep sliding under my trailer door.”

Recovering from her fluster at encountering the actress, Taylor smiled. “Sorry—I’m sure I’m being way too picky with all the legal issues.”

Naomi dismissed this. “It’s not your fault. The whole shoot has been a challenge, particularly with the schedule the director is trying to keep.” She glanced back at Jason and, after a slight pause, wrapped her arms around his neck.

“That’s why this weekend will be so great, darling.” With a grin, she turned back to Taylor. “Did Jason tell you? We’re sneaking off to Napa Valley—just the two of us.”

And despite herself, Taylor couldn’t help it.

Her face fell in disappointment.

“No,” she said quietly. “He didn’t mention it.”

She looked away, trying to hide her surprise. When she glanced back up, she noticed that Jason was watching her intently.

Naomi ran her fingers along Jason’s arm as she peered adoringly at him. “How could you forget it? I know how much we’re both looking forward to this trip. Aren’t we?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” Jason smiled wickedly as he casually turned his watch around his wrist.

Naomi returned his look with one of her own. “Anything you’d rather do . . . or anyone?”

Alrighty, then—Taylor had heard quite enough. “Listen—I really should get going,” she interrupted. “It’s getting kind of late. Naomi, it was nice meeting you.” As she left, she brushed by Jason with a curt nod in good-bye.

“Jason.”

She had made it only a few steps from the bar when she heard him calling after her.

“Taylor, hold on a second—”

She stopped and turned around.

Jason stood there, staring at her innocently, with Naomi at his side.

“We’re still on for Thursday, right?” he asked. “There are those changes the writer made to Act Two that I want you to take a look at.”

Taylor paused, but somehow managed to keep her cool. “Sure. Thursday,” she said evenly. “I’ll see you then.”

Without further ado, she turned and walked away.


NAOMI AND JASON watched Taylor leave, waiting until she was safely out of hearing range. Then the actress glanced over.

“So? Did you get what you wanted?”

“Definitely,” Jason said. Did he ever.

“I did all right then?”

“You were perfect, Naomi, as always. I owe you.”

She threw him a coy wink. “You know how you can make it up to me, darling.” Then she sashayed off to rejoin her girlfriends.

More than pleased with the way things had turned out, Jason stepped up to the bar to order himself a victory cocktail. He thought back to the crushed look Taylor had been unable to hide when she heard he would be spending the weekend with another woman. In Napa Valley, no less. Throwing in that detail last minute had been a stroke of pure genius.

Yes indeed, Taylor Donovan had put up quite a fight for a while. But now, well . . . Jason smiled at the thought of what was soon to come. As they say, to the victor goes the spoils.

The bartender set a drink down on the bar. Jason picked up the highball glass and tipped it with a self-satisfied grin.

“Cheers.”

Seventeen

TAYLOR HURRIED OUT the front gate, eager to put as much distance between her and the wall that surrounded Jason’s estate as fast as possible. When she got to the end of the cobblestone driveway, she looked up and down the street, trying to remember where the hell she had parked her car. The stupid Beverly Hills side streets all looked the same: walls and fences and ten-foot hedges, created for the single purpose of keeping the riffraff from sneaking peeks at the fabulous houses and people inside.