“No, but actually—”
“You’re not the only person in here with a crush on him.” With an exasperated eye roll, Billy reminds me that we do not do personal backstory. “Lighten up, kid.”
The opportunity is slammed closed. I blink back over to Alec as my heart stutters with nerves and realize Billy’s not wrong: there are at least five different people standing near Alec, waiting for that opening to approach, pretending to be absorbed in something nearby but really watching him like a hawk. An unfamiliar brand of adrenaline swarms my blood, a jealous one. I want to crash through the crowd like a possessive Kool-Aid man and drape his long arm around my shoulders. Isn’t he gorgeous? He likes me. We have sex.
As if he can sense the weight of my gaze on him, Alec looks up, and our eyes meet across the room. I can’t help my smile from cracking open; in response, he fights his. I watch him take in my dress, see his eyes do the full circuit of my body before his attention slowly passes to my right, to where Billy stands just a little too close. Close so I can hear him over the cacophonous, bustling room, but still. Too close.
At that moment, my boss grips my shoulder and playfully turns me so that my back is to the room—teasingly suggesting that I need help redirecting my focus. It means that I’ll never know if I imagined the bright flare of heat that passed over Alec’s face.
Billy immediately breaks into storyteller mode, and when a few of our colleagues join us, I am soon laughing so hard that I let myself forget that Alec is across the room, being plied with drinks, being flirted with.
But then a cool hand comes around my arm, gently turning me.
It’s Yael, and up close I see how stunning she looks tonight. Statuesque; hair that’s normally in a tight bun is down and wild. A slash of crimson lipstick. “Alexander Kim has asked for a moment of your time.”
Immediately, my heart is beating in my mouth. “Uh—sure.”
Billy practically shoves me away, murmuring, “Get his permission.”
I follow Yael as she leads me across the room, out into the lobby, and down a hall, wondering if permission is all I’m going to get.
We walk in silence away from the murmuring crowd and around a corner.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“I presume so.”
I have to hand it to Yael. She really is most likely to win Least Amount of Fucks Given at the end of this trip, and it’s hard to not respect a woman who won’t kill herself to make friends in LA. She leads me to a private powder room that seems like it’s used for bridal parties but is otherwise empty. Two walls are lined with vanities and mirrors, and at the back of the room standing facing the door is Alec.
Yael sweeps her arm, gesturing me in, and shuts the door once I cross into the room.
I walk slowly forward, enjoying the view. This close to him, in that suit—I might need smelling salts. “Are you requesting an official LA Times interview?”
“I read the story.”
Drumbeats fill my chest. “And?”
“It’s brutal.” His dark eyes flash with pride. “I forwarded it to Sunny, but I should be able to get you an answer early tomorrow.”
I know that won’t be the news Billy wants, but no one else has Alec’s part of the story, and given that he only decided today to go on the record with it, I can’t exactly rush him. I have to hope Billy can allow the Kim family this courtesy for another twelve hours. “Okay.”
Alec reaches an arm out, pulling me close, spreading his hand over my bare back. I am immediately uncorked. I didn’t realize how carefully I’d been holding myself together until he puts his hands on me.
“You look amazing,” he says.
“So do you.”
He drags his nose along my neck. “This dress.”
“You like?”
“Mm-hmm.” He kisses my jaw. “I’ll let the lack of turtleneck slide this time.”
Something in his voice feels different. Quieter, stiffer. “You okay?” I ask.
Alec pulls away, adjusting his collar. “Who was that man you were with?”
Ah.