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When Lily had gathered her wits, she counted her blessings. After all, getting to sit just a few feet away from famous actors and ask them questions wasn’t something that happened to her every day. She thanked her lucky stars that she had been given this opportunity, but most of the crowd sitting in the ballroom didn’t seem to have the same attitude. Lily was surprised at how
bored
some of them were. They captured their video and asked the same generic questions without much variation between them.

Maybe they’re used this
.
But I’m definitely not
, Lily thought.

Three hours and four press conferences later, the junket was over—at least for Lily. She didn’t have any one-on-ones because FilmInsanity.com wasn’t quite at that level. She was disappointed, but truthfully, asking Daniel Brighton a few questions surrounded by press was one thing. Sitting across from him in an interview was something else entirely. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

The others gathered their things and dashed toward the elevators to head upstairs for their one-on-ones. Lily took her time. She was more than content. She’d had her moment. She’d talked to Daniel Brighton and hadn’t faltered. She’d spoken eloquently and held eye contact. For that one moment, his attention had been focused on her, and that was enough for Lily.

Making her way down the expansive and chicly decorated hallway between the ballroom and the lobby, she turned her phone on. It lit up with several text messages so she found an inviting sofa along the wall and sat down to read them. Colette and Maggie wanted to know how it’d gone. Her mother “was just checking in.” And one of the other FilmInsanity.com writers needed to know how many stories she was planning on sending.

Lily got up and walked the rest of the way to the lobby, still paying more attention to her phone than her surroundings. While waiting for the elevator, she typed out a text to Colette and Maggie. Her mother was next. The elevator dinged right as she hit send. As the doors slid open, she put her phone back in her bag. But when she glanced back up, she froze in place, taking in a sharp breath.

Daniel Brighton was stepping off the elevator.

Lily had always thought that it was kind of cheesy when romantic comedies showed the male lead sauntering across the screen in slow motion. But time did seem to slow down as Daniel walked toward her. She knew she had a ridiculously large smile on her face, and her eyes had to be as wide as saucers. But she didn’t care. Staring, she blatantly took in his every move as he walked past her. Just before he crossed in front of her, he caught her eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted in a slight grin. Then he gave her the head nod—the one that said, “Hey, how-you-doin’?”

Lily managed a quick, quiet hello as he skirted around her and disappeared around the corner. She blinked in disbelief.

She didn’t notice the man standing in front of her.

Glancing back toward the elevator, she startled. His green eyes were focused on her, regarding her coldly.

“The press conferences are over.”

Lily’s eyebrows rose at his abrupt tone. “I know.”

He crossed his arms, continuing to hold her gaze. “If you were hoping for a one-on-one with Mr. Brighton, those are over, too.”

“Right. The fact that he’s leaving kind of gave that away.”

“Then what are you still doing here?”

Lily stepped around him and then faced him once more before pushing the elevator button. “I’m staying here.”

The man narrowed his eyes at her as the elevator opened, but said nothing. Stepping inside, she looked up from pressing the button for her floor just in time to see him turn and walk away.

Who
is
that guy?
she wondered as the elevator doors closed.

Chapter Six

After three hours of frantic typing and continuous writing on her laptop, Lily decided this incredible day warranted a drink.

She grabbed her clutch and went down to the hotel bar, where she ordered a martini, hoping the cool, clear liquid would help calm her addled mind. She had too many thoughts racing through her overstimulated brain and needed a few minutes to relax.

While she sipped her drink, she glanced around. The hotel’s well-manicured gardens lay next to the bar, visible through wide glass French doors. Earlier, she had seen the gardens from the balcony of her room, which had an identical set of French doors, and had noticed the lavender and hydrangeas. A thick blanket of lush green shrubbery, bright blue blooms, crisp white bulbs just beginning to open, and tiny purple buds blew gently in the warm night breeze. Daisies, with their vivid yellow centers, added warmth and playfulness to the space.

Since I’m here
, Lily thought,
I might as well take a quick peek
.

Outside, the sun hung low in the sky, casting both brilliant, fiery light and long, dark shadows across the garden. Lily liked that she seemed to have the spot to herself. It was quiet, like a secret garden tucked away from the endless noise and traffic of the famous boulevards that surrounded the hotel.

Lost in her own thoughts, she strolled aimlessly through the maze of hedges and flowers.

“You know, those questions you asked earlier were very good.”

The voice was low and warm, but it startled Lily anyway. Glancing behind her, she heard the click and swish of a lighter erupting into flame and watched as it illuminated a face she knew well.

She blinked, hardly believing he was there—not ten feet away—sitting on a wrought-iron bench, lighting a cigarette.

“Um . . . thanks?”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he extended his hand toward her.

“Hi. I’m Daniel.”

Slowly, she walked over and shook Daniel Brighton’s large hand. “Hi. I’m Lily. Lily Richards.”

He slid over in a clear invitation for Lily to join him on the bench as he exhaled a plume of smoke. She sat down in a bit of a daze, very glad to have a martini still coursing through her system.

“Seriously. Your questions were great. I usually get so bored at these things. It all starts to sound the same after a while, you know? But you kept me on my toes.” A small smirk played on his lips.

Lily blushed. “Well, it’s what I do. I don’t have two degrees in journalism for nothing.”

“Oh, really? Wow. That explains it, then. I mean, I don’t mind doing this. But sometimes the questions are just . . . inane.”

Lily watched as he took another draw on his cigarette. The movement of his mouth and the slight look of concentration that flitted across his features were momentarily mesmerizing.

Clearing her throat, she shrugged. “Maybe they’re just trying to give their readers what they think they want. After all, where you stand on the whole ‘boxers or briefs’ issue is vital information.”

Lily tried to look serious, but her expression gave way to a grin.

Daniel smiled and laughed, running a hand over the stubble that covered his chin. His laugh was deep and soft at the same time, and was a sound Lily wanted to hear over and over.

Lily’s stomach continued to flutter. “So is this okay? I don’t want to get you in trouble with your publicist or anything.”

Daniel stubbed out his finished cigarette with a short laugh. “No, it’s fine. I doubt he would like it, but he’s already gone upstairs to get ready for the photo call. Besides, you’re not planning on printing anything we talk about, are you? Not that I’ve said anything that could get me in trouble.” He paused and glanced her way. “Yet.”

He winked, making her blush.

“Don’t worry, I’m off duty. I just came down here for a drink to clear my head. When I saw the garden and the sunset, I thought some fresh air would be good, too. Anyway, I think I’ve written enough about you for one day. Consider this off the record.”

With that, Daniel seemed to relax, settling even further into the bench. “Good. You know, I haven’t seen you at one of these before. How come?”

“Well, by day I’m a features writer at a newspaper in Nashville. But I also write for FilmInsanity.com. A friend of mine owns and runs the site. We got an invitation to the press junket, so . . . here I am.”

“Hmm . . . here you are, indeed. Are you enjoying it?”

“Absolutely! This is my first time on the West Coast. It’s truly beautiful here.”

“Really? You’ve never been to Los Angeles before?”

Lily shook her head.

Daniel smiled. “It’s home for me, which makes days like this easier to put up with. At least I get to go home and sleep in my own bed.”

“Mmm. I’m sure,” Lily murmured. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still wondered why Daniel Brighton was talking to her, of all people.

He turned toward her, interrupting her thoughts. “So are you going to tell me what you thought of the movie? I heard there was a press screening for you all last night.”

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

“My review is embargoed until the release date. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. And then, not only would I go to jail, but I’d also have millions of girls running after me with proverbial pitchforks and torches, ready to tar and feather me. Or throw me to the wolves. Or some other gruesome torture tactic they come up with. So if you want the goods, you’ve either got to wait like everyone else, or give me a damn fine reason to spill.”

Lily should have known he’d meet that challenge head on. He extended his right elbow, which had been perched on the back of the bench, and placed his hand below her left shoulder. Looking into her eyes with intent, he said one word.

“Please?”

Yeah
.
That worked
.

Lily shook her head, freeing herself from his captivating glare.

“You’re unbelievable! Okay, fine. The movie was fantastic. I loved it. You were more than convincing as Grady. Your performance seemed very authentic. Although, truth be told, I prefer you on stage over the screen.”

“Wait a minute. You’ve seen me on stage?”

Lily froze. She hadn’t meant to let that slip out—or to possibly sound like one of the reasons he needed to use a secret door. Quite suddenly, Lily was fascinated by her black leather Calvin Klein slingbacks. She took a shallow breath and answered so quietly she hoped he wouldn’t hear. “Twice.”

The reaction she got wasn’t the one she expected. At all.

Daniel Brighton laughed at her. He was laughing so hard, he was almost in tears. She bit her thumbnail and nervously glanced at him from under her lashes, relaxing when she saw his reassuring smile. “Should I be worried that they’re letting fangirls cover me now?”

“Oh, I’m sure there are plenty of fangirls who would be more than willing to ‘cover’ you,” Lily said with a smirk—and air quotes. “I may be a fan, but don’t lump me in with the crazies. There’s a big difference.”

Daniel nodded, his laughter subsiding. “You’re right. There is.” He sighed. “So you really saw
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
and
A Streetcar Named Desire
?”

“Yep. Montgomery’s not that far away from where I live. And a friend of a friend was your stage manager on
Streetcar
. So I went to see them.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them. The stage tends to make me nervous.”

“Really?” Lily wondered why. Daniel seemed to exude so much effortless confidence.

He rubbed his hand across his chin a couple of times, drawing Lily’s attention the stubble along his jaw. Part of her still couldn’t believe that she was sitting close enough to him to see what color his beard might be if he stopped shaving altogether.

“Yeah. There’s no going back. You can’t do it over. It’s just you and your acting abilities. On display. For everyone to see. And comment on. It’s nerve-racking! With TV or movies, you’ve already moved on to the next thing before your work comes out. Your focus is shifted, so it’s easier to push it aside.”

Lily pondered this statement. Being a smart girl, she was able to put two and two together.

“So I’m guessing you’re . . . media-shy . . . for the same reasons?”

Daniel studied the hydrangeas across the path. “You have the power to hurt me.”

It came out so quietly, Lily wasn’t sure she heard it. And she was more than a little surprised he was talking to her about such a sensitive subject.

“But many of us—including me—never would.” Lily hoped her heard the sincerity in her voice. She knew it wouldn’t be enough to restore his faith in the media, but she hoped it was at least a start.

“Logically, I know that,” he said. “But you all seem to want more than I’m willing to give. I mean, who cares what kind of underwear I wear?”

It was a serious moment, but Lily couldn’t help but snigger. “Okay, I know what you mean. But if it helps at all, I believe that the only time you should be in the press is when it’s tied to your work. Not silly little bits of information about your underwear, or whom you’re dating, or what restaurants you frequent. If, for whatever reason, you decide you want people to know all that, then . . . fine. But until you decide to say something, that’s your personal life.”

A small smile played on Daniel’s lips at her response. “So how did you get into journalism?”

“Oh. Well, I joined my high school’s newspaper staff during my sophomore year. It didn’t take me long to fall in love with journalism. And I’ve been doing it since then.