"Tonight?" He was already planning on attending the opening of his friend Wyatt Royce's highly anticipated photography show. But he'd intended on going stag.
She stared him down. "That photo's all over the internet. Right now, it looks like you're cheating on Frannie. Pull the girl into the spotlight--get a few shots of you and her and Frannie having drinks and a few laughs--and everything will be smoothed over."
She pointed a well-manicured finger at him. "Remember Ace, filming hasn't started yet. It's not too late for them to replace you."
"Great," Lyle said. "Just great." He pressed his fingers hard against his temples. "And if the girl doesn't want to join our merry band of players?"
"Then find another blonde," Evelyn said dryly. "At this point, I think any girl will do."
About that, Lyle thought, she was absolutely wrong.
He watched as Evelyn strode away. Nat hesitated, her eyes on Riley. A moment later, she blinked, as if realizing she was staring, and turned her attention to Lyle.
He glanced at her familiar red portfolio. "Anything we need to go over?"
She shook her head. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. Do I, um, I mean, is there anything I need to do about tonight? About the girl?"
Despite his frustration, he almost laughed. Nat was the most efficient assistant he'd ever had, and he could hear in her voice how much it bothered her that she didn't have a clue how to solve this particular problem for her boss. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I've got it covered."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. In that case, I'll see you at the opening tonight."
"Thanks."
Riley took a step forward. "Nat--"
Her brow rose as she cut him off curtly with, "Have a good evening, Mr. Blade." Then she turned and walked out without another word.
Lyle turned to Riley. "Something you want to share with the class?"
"Not really."
As far as Lyle knew, there'd never been anything between Riley and his assistant. But maybe that was the problem. "You know, if you're interested, you could ask her out."
Riley tilted his head with what looked like sudden interest. "She's not seeing someone else?"
"Not that I know of. You're free and clear. Ask her." He grinned. "What woman has ever said no to you?"
"Natasha has," Riley said flatly.
"Wow," Lyle said, genuinely surprised. "I didn't realize it was the apocalypse."
That got a smile from Riley. "Yeah, well, my female problems don't hold a candle to yours." He cocked his head toward the door. "Go on and give this girl a ring and get tonight squared away. Then we'll get in the rest of your workout."
"Love to. But I don't have her number."
Riley chuckled. "So Evelyn was right. Who is she? Someone you picked up at a bar?"
"No," Lyle said evenly, watching his friend's face. "I didn't pick her up at a bar."
"Then where'd you--oh, fuck, Lyle. I thought you told me that was over."
Lyle raked his fingers through his hair. "It is. Mostly. But sometimes I need--"
He cut himself off with a shrug. "Sometimes, it's just hard."
"I get that it's fucked up, man. But you have to find another way to deal all the shit. Jenny's death. The pressure of living under a microscope. Whatever it is, you gotta find another way."
"I know." He paced the gym, back and forth between the bag and the chin up bar. "I know," he repeated. "But it's not just about me burning off steam. It's about the girls, too. You know that."