If you loved the Elite Men of Manhattan... the LA men will blow you away.
Chapter One – Spencer
“Ohh… shi-it… so close…” The nameless blonde tossed her hair to the side so she could look at me over her shoulder. “Harder,” she whispered, meeting me thrust for thrust.
If there was one thing I believed in, it was giving a lady what she wanted. My grip on her hips tightened so I could hold her in place before pounding into her in sharp, deep strokes that left her clenching around my dick while she bit her lip to silence a moan.
This was nothing. A distraction, a little fun. Short-lived, but then bathroom sex generally had to be, especially when it took place in a public bathroom at a Hollywood industry event.
Burying myself balls deep, she gripped the marble, her legs trembling as she tipped over the edge, causing my orgasm to follow. Then I slipped out of her and tossed the condom, tucking myself into my boxer briefs. “Thanks for that,” I offered dryly, zipping my pants.
“Mmm… thank you.” The woman purred like a cat, her red nails trailing down my chest after she righted herself and flicked my silk tie in a gesture that was probably supposed to be playful. As far as I was concerned, she’d already worn out her welcome. “We should try that again sometime. Maybe someplace a little more private. Not that this wasn’t incredible,” she added.
Fucking her while she leaned over the sink was hardly incredible, but then I couldn’t speak for her prior experience. For all I knew, I was the best she’d ever had. “I’d better get back out there,” I told her, ignoring the way her face fell when I avoided the topic of getting together again. One last look in the mirror confirmed everything was in place before I offered a brief smile and headed for the door. “Give me a minute before following.” I didn’t bother to stick around to hear if she said anything more. It didn’t matter.
After all, I was under strict orders not to fuck around with any of the women at this event. My best friend, Lex Landry, had invited me to the awards ceremony and luncheon honoring his father.
Being the son of a legendary studio mogul meant sitting through boring events. I was allowed to alleviate the boredom, but only if I promised to leave the young actresses alone.
His family studio, handed down from grandfather to father and soon to son, had sat at the top of the Hollywood heap for decades. There wasn’t an actress in town who wouldn’t kill for a role in one of the films they produced. While Lex had never participated in that whole casting couch bullshit, rumors could be vicious. The slightest hint of that swirling around him might be more than enough to shift public perception.
The coast was clear when I stepped out. Lex was nowhere in sight. Straightening my suit jacket, I scanned the banquet room for him, wondering if he needed a wingman to free him from a dull conversation.
Instead of finding him, I swore I saw a ghost.
For one breathless moment, my heart stopped beating—the reaction that resulted from a sudden shock. It couldn’t be her weaving her way through the crowd with a tall, shapely goddess following close behind. It wasn’t possible.
A scream rang out in my head as sharp and clear as the night I heard it coming from the girl in the passenger seat—shrill, terror-filled, with the power to lift the hair on the back of my neck.
Other memories flooded back, overlapping chaotically, reflecting the chaos of that terrible night. The crunch of metal, the shattering of glass. The terrifying, profound silence in the moments after we came to a violent stop when I looked to my right and found a nightmare come to life.
So much blood. I didn’t know people had that much blood in them. She can’t be alive. But she can’t be dead.
The purr of the women exiting the bathroom behind me pulled me back to the present, but she wasn’t the blonde who’d taken my mind hostage. “Will I see you again?” the stranger asked. I never did get her name. If I had, I would’ve forgotten it the second I thought I saw the woman who’d changed the course of my life.
“I don’t think so,” I murmured without glancing at the nameless blonde, already on my way to where I would’ve sworn I saw her.
Rowan.
A name I hadn’t spoken aloud in years, one which only existed in my memory now.
Get it together. I was more tense now than I’d been before sneaking off to that rather dirty bathroom with one of the event staff. Why the hell would memories of Rowan haunt me now? I hadn’t thought about her in years, a deliberate avoidance at first that became easier as time went on.
“Wake up. You have to wake up!” Fuck, so many things could race through a person’s mind all at once. That scream of hers. The sound someone made when they knew they were about to die, only she couldn’t be dead.
“There you are.” Lex’s warm, jovial voice startled me out of the nightmare that insisted on wrapping itself around me. Of course, I hadn’t seen her. This town was overflowing with beautiful blondes.
“Here I am,” I replied. “Sorry if I left you hanging.”
“I figured I’d find you screwing a starlet in the bathroom,” he joked, his gaze moving over the room.
“I wouldn’t do that.” And I hadn’t. I was true to my word. “If anything, this is a little boring. I thought these big industry parties evolved into orgies.”
“So that’s why you were so quick to accept my invitation.” He lifted his drink to acknowledge an old man who waved across the room. “Sorry. wrong decade. Though I bet that old geezer over there could tell you a few stories.”
What a shame, considering the quality of the women around us. Not only were they gorgeous, but they were willing. Almost hungry. I knew the look in their eyes and the determination written across their perfect faces. Somebody needed to tell them not to smile so hard. It looked forced. If there was one skill an actress needed, it was the ability to look sincere.
But this wasn’t a set, and we weren’t making a movie. It didn’t matter. Hollywood wasn’t known for realism. Every event was an opportunity to make a good impression on a director, agent, or executive, and an event such as the one my best friend had roped me into attending was no exception.
Sinking into a chair along the room’s periphery, I could at least relax my facial muscles. It was different in the Hamptons last weekend at the wedding where I could genuinely be glad for the couple getting married. Besides, it was good to see my colleague, Miles Young, looking at peace for a little while despite everything going on around us.
Here, things were the complete opposite—a façade I wouldn’t subject myself to if it weren’t for my best friend.
Lex only chuckled, sipping his whiskey. This was his world. He’d grown up in his dad’s office, hanging around the studio after school and during summer breaks. After lifting a hand to acknowledge a pair of suited executives a few tables away from ours, he said, “You needed an excuse to get out for a little while. Relax, have another drink, take a breath. Work will be there later.”
“Who said I was thinking about work?” I asked, even as my thoughts returned to the phone in my pocket. It hadn’t buzzed with an incoming message, yet my fingers twitched out of a need to check the damn thing. Again.
He snorted, giving me the sort of look one friend gave another after a decade of joint shenanigans. “Call me psychic.”
A redhead in a pantsuit spotted me as she walked past with a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. Though she was in the middle of a conversation, our eyes locked, and her gaze softened. I knew that look—the spark of interest as she took me in.
What a shame my phone buzzed when it did. I grabbed it and pulled it out, my heart pounding in expectation. The redhead might as well have not existed as I skimmed a text from one of my contacts back on the East Coast. In the week since Rose Goldsmith’s store had all but burned to the ground, the only thing anyone knew for sure was the presence of an accelerant at the scene. Arson.
“How many times are you gonna do that?” Lex asked, eyeing my phone once I placed it face down on the table. “Your friends in New York are working on it. There’s nothing that piece of shit Damian Fields can do to stop your patent from being approved.”
Easy for him to say. He hadn’t stood back and watched with a sinking heart while scorched timbers fell onto smoking ruins. He hadn’t heard the heartbroken weeping from the girls whose bridal gowns had gone up in flames. There hadn’t been a question in my mind of how the fire had started and who was behind it. Arson was one of Damian’s go-to methods for getting rid of competitors. I’d only waited for the initial report to confirm my suspicions.
Lex finished off his drink, then held up his glass to a passing server, signaling for a refill. “It’s almost funny seeing all the love you’re getting online.”
“All the love Miles is getting,” I corrected. He would be in Hawaii by now, living it up with his new wife while I did my best to keep things together on this side of the Pacific. Somehow, I doubted Aria had his full attention, especially now that Damian’s team had begun to leak information about Miles’ past, including a bar fight that had resulted in his opponent being paralyzed by a traumatic brain injury.
Lucian Diamond, one of Miles’ friends and heir to a media empire, worked with his girlfriend, Ivy, and their digital team to flood the internet with positive stories. Photos from the lavish wedding were interspersed with tales recounting the stress of finding last-minute replacements for the bridal party’s attire. They worked toward drumming up sympathy and admiration to drown out what painted him in a negative light.
I swirled the ice in my glass, seething, pushing it as deep down as I could for the sake of keeping up appearances. Not for my sake but for Lex, whose father was one of the recipients of the humanitarian award presented earlier this afternoon.
What would it have been like having a father worth looking up to? From the time I was barely old enough to count to ten, bystanders had assumed I would take the reins and oversee the family’s shipping empire. As if I’d want to play any part in the way Dad encouraged exploitation, cost cutting, conveniently ignoring regulations to increase profits.
In contrast, Alexander Landry was currently in the center of a group of admirers scrambling to get his attention like a bunch of neglected children, hoping Daddy would tell them they were his favorite. He might not have noticed the way they tried to claw each other out of the way, but I did, and it made me laugh to myself.
Lex noticed, snickering. “Don’t ever let him try to fool you,” he muttered as he watched the worship people heaped on his old man. “He loves it. He only acts like it gets on his nerves, the way they kiss his ass.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you hate having your ass kissed?”
“Me?” He shrugged blithely. “Why bother acting? What’s the point of owning a studio if you can’t enjoy the perks of the position?”
“Careful,” I warned, not joking anymore. “That sounds a hell of a lot like the sort of shit the studio heads said back in his early days.” They probably said much worse than that.
He scoffed before accepting a fresh drink. “A bunch of old pricks who couldn’t get laid any other way. Everybody knows Sunset Pictures would never get mixed up in some vile shit like that.”
They were one in a million, then. I would’ve told him so, but his father’s assistant came over to murmur something in Lex’s ear. My thoughts wandered, and my gaze followed suit, drifting over the clusters of people socializing and networking rather than eating the lunch provided to us.
There! It’s her! I was on my feet in an instant, scanning the room in search of the blonde who looked so much like my past. “Who did you spot?” Lex asked once he noticed me gazing over the heads of countless strangers.
Where the fuck had she gone?
“Nobody.” I was too stressed. That was the problem. My overwrought brain was going haywire while my team worked their fingers to the bone in hopes of completing the patent application and getting it out before Damian’s team could do the same. We had no way of knowing exactly how far along they were in the application process. I only knew I’d lost two team members in the past year who’d ended up as employees of FieldCo not long after.
How much had he offered them? How much did a person’s professional integrity go for nowadays? No doubt he would’ve guaranteed legal representation if we chose to sue, but then there was no proof they’d sold our company’s secrets to him. Not yet, anyway.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Lex rolled his eyes dramatically when I looked his way. “What is she doing here? How would somebody like her get in?”
“Who?” I followed the direction of his gaze to find a girl with auburn hair and arms full of bangles chatting with a few women. The word ‘bohemian’ came to mind. She was wearing Birkenstocks, for Christ’s sake.
“Summer Strawbridge.” His nose wrinkled like the name smelled foul. “A wannabe director with a shitty attitude. I hope she doesn’t think she’ll get work here.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because once Summer drifted away, I caught sight of the woman she’d been chatting with—a tall, willowy brunette.
And Rowan.
As beautiful as ever, she tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and let her fingertips trace her earlobe so she could fidget with her earring—a gesture I would’ve recognized anywhere a decade after I’d last seen it.
So much came back. Not only that tragic night but the good times. When I took her to our vacation house in Malibu and promised to teach her to surf. It hadn’t gone well, considering we couldn’t stop screwing around in the surf long enough to focus. Riding the Ferris wheel on the Santa Monica Pier, laughing as she squealed when we got stuck at the top. And how had she paid me back for laughing? By letting me walk around the busy pier for at least an hour with melted ice cream on my chin, oblivious. I could hear her laughter over my pounding heart.
“Hello?” Lex snapped his fingers in front of my face.
I slapped his hand away without thinking about it, still staring at the blonde who’d stepped out of my past into the present. Look at me, dammit. I needed her to see me but would be damned if I begged for her attention.
“What the hell are you… oh.” There was laughter in my friend’s voice once he followed the direction of my gaze. “I know that look. You spotted somebody.”
I nodded, only half hearing him. Where the hell had she gone? The girl had disappeared off the face of the earth only to show up at the least likely moment. There were times when I had actually questioned whether she existed at all. Otherwise, why had it been so easy for her to vanish from my life?
“As always, you have a good eye,” Lex mused.
His laughter barely registered in my awareness. I was too focused on her, following her every movement, my heart jumping every time she turned her head far enough for me to get a glimpse of her profile. Her nose was different, I realized, and for some reason, the realization left me with a sinking sensation. The girl I knew had one of those perky ski-jump noses. She’d sworn it was natural, that she hadn’t had any work done, though people used to ask her about it all the time, wondering which plastic surgeon she’d used.
Still, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “Do you know who she is?” I asked as she and the brunette sat at an otherwise empty table. Why was I asking? Maybe I didn’t want to believe it. Maybe it was easier back when I imagined her slipping out of the world the way she had slipped out of my life. Like we never mattered.
Or like we had stopped mattering because of me. That was the answer, it had always been. I’d carried it with me all these years. One of those deep-seated beliefs a man doesn’t have to devote conscious thought to. I didn’t have to give any prolonged thought to gravity, but the evidence of it was around me all the time.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her around town. She might be working with a girl who signed onto that new action movie we’re looking to release next summer.” Lex drummed his fingers along the table. “An entertainment lawyer. She focuses on young actresses, making sure they don’t get taken advantage of when they sign a contract.”
A lawyer? It was not the way I remembered things, but then a lot of water had passed under the bridge. I was hardly the person I used to be when we were together. Why wouldn’t she have changed?
“Commendable,” he mused, though he sounded bored when he said it. I understood why when he continued, “She’s a real pain-in-the-ass ball-buster when she puts her mind to it. Rumor has it she used to be an actress, so she knows what to look out for.”
Bingo. The word actress was all I needed to hear.
“Is her name Rowan?” I asked, knowing the answer but needing confirmation as my heart threatened to smash through my chest.
He snapped his fingers in a eureka moment. “It is. Rowan McNulty? I think that’s it.”
I knew her as Rowan Leslie. Stupid ass. It was clearly a stage name she came up with for her acting career. People did it all the time. No wonder I couldn’t find her when I tried. After…
“Where are you going?” Lex asked when I stood and buttoned my suit jacket before downing what was left of my tequila.
“Where do you think?” I countered, dropping my phone into my pocket. It could have rung with a call from my office or Damian Fields himself, and I would’ve ignored it. Nodding in Rowan’s direction, I said, “You’re going to introduce me.”
“Since when am I your wingman?” he asked with a laugh.
It wasn’t about that, but there was no time to explain. I wouldn’t have known where to begin. He didn’t know about her. Almost no one did. “Would you do this without complaining?” I muttered while I waited for him to stop bitching and get off his ass. He did, though he continued grumbling.
Not that it mattered when my good sense battled it out in my head with questions more than a decade old. It would’ve been smarter to leave her alone. To forget I saw her and let her go on with her life.