Never Say Never (The Price of Fame Series) Page 2

  “Did you pull strings to get me the interview?”

  His dimples flashed. “Does it matter?”

  Couldn’t he answer a straight question? “It matters to me.”

  After a sigh, he said, “Yeah, I pulled some strings and asked them to consider you for the job.”

  “But there weren’t any positions available.” Or had they just told her that because they didn’t think she’d fit?

  “New shows will start in the next few months and one of the makeup artists is about to go on maternity leave. Dave, the owner of Studio Four, said he was going to advertise for the positions next week.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t give up the coffee shop for maternity cover, could she?

  As if reading her mind, or the disappointment on her face, he added, “I told them you’d be applying for one of the permanent posts.”

  Could he read her mind, or was she really that transparent? She wiped all emotion from her face—a skill she’d learned in LA—and offered him a polite smile.

  He leaned forward and placed his palms on the granite counter. Chloe’s eyes widened when she took in the size of them. The man was huge. Warmth trickled through her veins and she quickly pushed the thought away. It did no good to wonder whether he was in proportion all over. She met his gaze with her chin held high.

  “And if I get the job, how do you know I won’t back out?”

  Sander’s lips curved in a way that should be illegal. A tingle skittered down her spine and licked hotter in her belly.

  “A favor for a favor? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who’d back out of a deal.”

  No, she wasn’t, she was loyal to the point of stupidity. Even to those who didn’t deserve it…like Dane.

  “No, I’m not.” Chloe took a deep breath. “Why me, Sander?” She didn’t think sir, or Mr. Chase, would be appropriate considering he’d asked her out twice now.

  His smile brightened and her heart stuttered. “I don’t have time to date. Work is crazy and I’ll be back on the show in a few months. I’ll probably be on tour with the band late into the year. You don’t want more than I’m offering, so you’re perfect for this.”

  Sander shrugged, as if that explained everything. Chloe supposed it did. He really didn’t want anything more than a woman on his arm for show. Maybe he was still hung up on his ex. The thought twisted her stomach. Chloe shook her head, exasperated with herself. What did it matter to her if he was? She’d vowed never to date someone famous again.

  And the chance to get in the door of Studio Four was beyond tempting. But she still couldn’t understand why he asked her. It’s a chance at a dream job, what does it matter?

  “Won’t people know I’m on your arm for show? I mean, we don’t know anything about each other.”

  Sander leaned further across the counter until he hovered over her. “So we’ll get to know each other. How about dinner tonight? I can pick you up at seven.”

  Sander reached out and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. Like yesterday, his touch sent shivers of pleasure through her. Chloe jerked back a step, her eyes widening at the gesture. Had her hair been sticking out all over the place, or was he trying to seduce her into willing putty in his hands?

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  She couldn’t leave her mum again. Not after last night. She chewed the inside of her mouth and closed her eyes. This opportunity to show Studio Four—the biggest studio in the UK—what she was made of was a once in a lifetime chance. Getting a job there would not only be a huge achievement and something for her CV employers here couldn’t ignore, but it was everything she longed for, everything she needed to make sure Joyce lived the rest of her life well cared for. With the salary she’d earn from the studio, her mum would have everything she needed. And Chloe would have her dream job.

  “Hey, Chloe?”

  She opened her eyes. Sander’s brow creased with concern. He reached out, invading her personal space once again and covered the hand she had fisted against the counter with his. Eyes burning, she inhaled deeply and tried to pull herself together. It did no good to cry. Something else she’d learned while she was in LA.

  “I have commitments. I’m sorry,” Chloe said, and meant it.

  “It’s okay.” His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand and she shivered. “What about lunch? When do you get off work?”

  Chloe stared into his wide, guileless eyes. She’d shot him down and still he persisted. A rush of warmth spread through her, and she couldn’t tell whether it was irritation or attraction, it had been so long since she’d experienced the latter.

  Lunch, she could do that, couldn’t she? If she called Mrs. Young and let her know she was running late, her mum would have someone with her until she got home.

  “One, but I can’t stay long.” The words were out before she had a chance to change her mind. Some of the earlier excitement buzzed through her. Maybe they could do this. Maybe she could spend enough time with him and help them both get what they wanted.

  Sander grinned, and her heart stuttered. “I’ll pick you up after your shift.”

  He let go of her hand and immediately she felt the loss. It’s fake! she chided herself. Forcing a polite smile, she nodded. She gazed around the empty coffee shop when he left, pulled a chair out from the nearest table and slumped into it. It’s the right thing to do.

  Chloe pulled her phone out of her apron and dialed home.

  “Butler residence.”

  Chloe grinned at Mrs. Young’s voice over the phone. “It’s Chloe. I’m going to be in a little later today, only an hour or so. Can you stay with Mum until I get back?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Young. I’ll turn my phone back on at one in case you need me.”

  Chloe said goodbye and switched off her phone, remembering that the last time she’d left it on her boss, Richard, had given her a verbal warning. The door to the coffee shop opened again and a group of office workers entered. Chloe’s smile was more genuine this time as she slipped her phone into her apron and rose to meet them.

  * * * *

  “Hi.”

  Sander turned to the soft, familiar voice. Chloe stood at the entrance to the coffee house and smiled at him. He slid off the hood of the car and smiled right back. Damn, but it was easy to smile when she was around. Black leggings and a red Barbour coat covered her tall, slender frame. Chloe stuffed her hands into the pockets and walked toward him.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “After you.” He pulled the passenger door open for her.

  Chloe slid into the seat, her expression distant but polite. Rounding the car, Sander frowned. Most women at least commented on the Porsche, some even seemed excited to be in one. Once he slid in behind the wheel, he faced her. Nothing. Not a flicker of excitement or change in demeanor. It was as if Chloe got in and out of cars like this every day. For all he knew, she did.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Have you ever been in a car like this?”

  The moment the words left his mouth, he felt like a jerk. Why did he care if she had? Or was it that he needed his ego stroked with compliments? No. Definitely not the latter.

  The polite mask slipped for a second and pain flashed in her golden eyes. “Not a Porsche, no.”

  Intrigued, Sander asked, “Oh?”

  “I… Can we get going? I have to be home soon.” Chloe shifted in her seat.

  “Sure.”

  Sander knew she was trying to keep something from him. He was an expert at hiding his emotions from others and could read the signs. Usually he respected people’s privacy, especially women’s.

  As he pulled out into the busy London traffic his mind whirred with questions. What caused the pain in her eyes? Did she have a rich relative who had passed away? Or an ex maybe? His hands tightened on the steering wheel and he bit his tongue against the torrent of questions wanting to burst free. The an
swers were none of his business.

  Ten minutes of tensed silence later, an Italian bistro he knew the press liked to sniff around came into view. If they were going to get tongues wagging, this was a good place to start. Sander pulled up in front of the rustic, orange stoned building and a valet strolled toward the car. Sander turned to Chloe. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the building.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Um…” Chloe turned to him. “Sander, don’t the paparazzi usually hang out here?”

  He nodded and watched her slender throat bob as she swallowed. Was she scared?

  “You okay?”

  She nodded and glanced back to the restaurant. The valet waited patiently on the pavement for them to vacate the car.

  “We can go somewhere else.”

  “Here’s fine,” she whispered.

  Chloe opened the door and stepped out. Sander followed suit and handed the keys to the valet who smiled like all his Christmases had come at once. When Sander reached Chloe, he offered his arm. She hesitated for a second before sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him. He almost let her go, but decided it was probably an electric shock or something.

  “You don’t mind if we’re seen together?”

  Her quiet question startled him. He held the door open and asked, “Why would I? People have to believe we’re dating for this to work.”

  She looked so confused and sweet, he wanted to lean over and kiss away her frown. The thought brought him back to his senses. Chloe was his pretend date. He was pretty sure kissing someone on impulse didn’t fit that category.

  The inside of the restaurant was dark red, making the place feel sensual. Sander thought candlelight at lunchtime was a bit over the top, but it contributed to the atmosphere. Most of the tables sat two and Sander knew this was the place the high rollers took their dates. He hadn’t brought Chloe to show off. He didn’t need to impress her. It was all about media coverage.

  They were shown to their table and handed menus covered in red leather.

  Chloe’s eyes were too wide again. “Erm, Sander?”

  He frowned. “Is everything okay?”

  She leaned across the table and whispered, “There aren’t any prices on this menu.”

  Chloe looked so genuinely worried he couldn’t help his laugh from bursting free. Her face fell and he tried to pull it together.

  “Lunch is on me,” he assured her.

  “I want to at least pay for myself.” Her eyes glinted gold in the candlelight.

  “That’s not necessary. Order whatever you like.” Sander used his no-nonsense voice, the one he’d learned from his father—one of the few things the man had taught him. Chloe’s lips pursed, but she didn’t argue. He grinned.

  A waiter dressed impeccably in a dark shirt and trousers arrived at their table. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Chloe?” Sander asked.

  “Mineral water, please.”

  Sander raised a brow. “I’ll have a beer.”

  The man bowed slightly and left to get their drinks. “Mineral water?” he asked. Chloe’s plain choice startled him. Every woman he’d ever dated always had ordered the most expensive drink on the menu.

  Chloe shrugged. “It’s too early for me. It’s only just past one.” She looked around the room, then down to her jacket and fiddled with the zipper. “I wish I’d had a chance to change.”

  He reached over, giving into his impulse, and snared her hand in his. “You look lovely. Don’t be self-conscious.”

  And he wasn’t trying to make her feel better. She truly was lovely. Her shiny hair was pulled back into an elegant twist showing off her flawless skin. Her creamy complexion contrasted brilliantly with her red coat. Heat buzzed into him from the contact with her skin. He quickly released her hand before he had any other impulses.

  “Thank you.”

  “Tell me about yourself, Chloe.”

  * * * *

  Chloe blinked a few times too many for the short time that had passed. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed up for lunch and she felt a bit better. Still, his navy pullover was no doubt designer, as were his faded jeans. She shook away the last vestige of unease. It didn’t matter what she looked like, they weren’t really dating.

  “There isn’t much to tell. I worked in America for five years and came home for good before Christmas.”

  She didn’t want to think too much about her time in the States. Sure, she’d loved her job and friends, but Dane tainted her memories.

  Sander leaned forward, but didn’t rest his elbows on the table. Pushy but well-mannered. A smile pulled up the corner of her lips. There were many sides to Sander Chase. Her curiosity came alive as she realized she’d soon get to see them all.

  “Ah, so that’s why you sounded American.” He flashed her a smile worthy of a tooth-whitening advert and it sent her heart galloping. “Where did you stay?”

  “LA mostly. What about you? Aren’t you from the States?”

  Sander leaned back, away from her. The sizzle in the air when he’d been so close evaporated. His gaze closed off and the laid-back, teasing Sander was gone. Chloe frowned at him and wondered again whether it was a fake date he needed, or a psychiatrist.

  “LA. My mother’s an actress, my father a director. They moved around a lot.”

  Chloe couldn’t help noticing he said they not we. “Didn’t you go with them?”

  “No.” The word was devoid of emotion, as was his expression.

  Shooting movies took months, sometimes a year. How could anyone leave their child for that length of time?

  “Who took care of you?” she asked, utterly appalled on his behalf.

  Sander sighed. “I didn’t need taken care of, Chloe.” He ran a hand through his golden, surfer-boy hair. “If my parents taught me anything, it was how to get by without them. There were staff in the house, and I had a nanny until I was twelve. After that I was too busy with singing lessons and home schooling to notice their absence.”

  Chloe’s heart twisted. Every child needed to be cared for. How could he sit there straight-faced and tell her otherwise? No one could be that unfeeling. Or did he simply push back the memories of his lonely childhood because that was easier to deal with? Wasn’t that what she was doing with the Dane fiasco?

  The waiter returned with their drinks. Sander didn’t even wait until the man left. He picked up his bottle of beer and took a long pull.

  She didn’t know him at all, not really, but he came to the coffee house early every afternoon, though she’d tried to avoid him by taking the earlier shift today. Still, she’d never smelled alcohol on his breath, so the fact he drained half the bottle now was a sure sign the conversation was heading down an uncomfortable path. She decided to take mercy and not probe further. After all, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to keep things in his past private.

  “Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked.

  Chloe searched for a nametag on his impeccably pressed shirt, but there was none. Being a waitress herself, she liked people to see her as a person and aimed to treat others in the profession with the same respect.

  “I’ll have the steak, medium, with boiled potatoes,” Sander said, and she was pleased to note he made eye contact with the man. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll have the same.” She smiled at the waiter. He bowed, then turned and walked away.

  When her gaze flitted back to Sander, he was staring at her intently. The same determined expression as yesterday etched his face and she fought the urge to swallow. What was he going to talk her into doing now?

  “All we need to know about each other are the basics, Chloe. We’re not entering a competition to prove we’re a couple.”

  He had a point. She ignored the trickle of disappointment that she wouldn’t get to know the real him and nodded.

  “I’m twenty-seven, and I worked on Crime Busters as lead makeup artist for a couple of years as w
ell as a few low-budget movies before I came back to London. My dad died when I was four, and I stay with my mum.”

  She stopped before she told about her mum. That wasn’t covered in the basics. That was personal, and if he wasn’t giving away personal, neither was she.

  Sander took another sip of his beer, not a huge gulp this time. He smiled his laid-back, sexy smile. Chloe’s shoulders sagged as relief crept through her. She had him back.

  “Thirty-two, work as a DJ for Studio Four’s digital radio station and I’m a judge on Do You Have What It Takes? for a few months out of the year. If we pull this off, I’ll be back in the band and probably on tour in January.”

  His jaw tightened and his eyes blazed with anger when he mentioned the band, and Chloe couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t be able to work with the woman she’d caught Dane in bed with and he wasn’t her fiancé at the time. From what she understood, Sander had planned to spend the rest of his life with this woman and she’d run off with his friend.

  Anger burned hot through her veins—something she hadn’t felt for so long. Sander really was bringing her back to life.

  “Sounds like you have a full plate,” she muttered, more disappointed by the realization than she let show.

  Not that she should be disappointed. Sander wasn’t looking to date her for real, so why the hurt when she found out there was no time in his schedule for a woman? Chloe shook off the discomfort.

  “I do. And reforming the band is a headache I don’t need.”

  Chloe’s hands twitched to reach for him, to offer him comfort like he’d done with her earlier, but she pulled them under the table. She doubted he wanted her sympathy. In fact, he looked annoyed, rather than hurt. Annoyed he was being forced back into the company of two people who had betrayed him.

  Maybe he really didn’t care. She looked down at her glass. No. Nobody could be as unaffected as he pretended to be. Not when a loved one betrayed him.

  “One date won’t convince people.” His not-to-be-argued-with tone brought her attention back to his face. His eyes were flinty blue. She frowned. “We’ll need to be seen together more than this one time, especially since there’s a surprising lack of paparazzi today.”