Elle Ward, daughter of Hollywood"s hottest director, has sworn off actors for life.
She knows their games and she refuses to play them.
That is until the day she collides with one of LA"s most promising actors.
Kas Cowen isn"t looking for love until it literally runs him down.
One look at Elle and he"s hooked.
He crashes into her life and flips it upside down.
Now he has to convince Elle he"s more than just a pretty face.
Little did they know they were up for one wild ride . . .
The next sexy Hollywood Chronicles stand-alone novel from bestselling authors, A.L. Jackson and Rebecca Shea . . .Books in Series:Hollywood Chronicles Series by A.L. JacksonBooks by Author:A.L. JacksonRebecca Shea
I tossed the garment bag onto the backseat of my car, balancing my phone between my ear and shoulder as I maneuvered my huge bag into the front passenger seat. "I"m heading back to my place right now. Don"t worry. I"ll be there."
"I swear, if you"re late, I"m going to skin you alive." Leave it to Kay-Kay to get all spun up and agitated.
"Oh, come on, Kay-Kay. You"ve been crushing on Paxton Myles since the day I met you. Don"t act like you aren"t salivating to get to that theater. Besides, have I ever let you down"" I asked her.
Kaylee Rose Burton hesitated on the other end of the line as if she didn"t know how to answer that question. "No, you haven"t. And for the record, I so don"t have a crush on Paxton Myles. He"s famous."
She whispered famous as if it was some massive secret, which it so was not since Paxton Myles was indeed famous.
It was why I basically had to force her into agreeing to come.
She"d been my best friend since we"d been paired together as roommates at UCLA as freshman. An unlikely match, that was for sure.
She was about as conservative as they came, and I"d been voted the biggest partier in my high school. Honestly, at the time, I"d been a little horrified that my parents were actually making me live in a dorm. With a stranger, nonetheless.
Ten years later, I could look back and totally understand what they were trying to do and fully appreciated them for it. Tossing me out of my privileged nest, praying I"d spread my wings, flap them hard and fast, and maybe just soar.
Make it out in the real world by myself.
The last thing I wanted to be was some spoiled brat living off her daddy"s dime for her whole life.
No, thank you.
But that sure didn"t mean my daddy wasn"t my world. And tonight was his big night. It wasn’t just that I"d be letting Kaylee down. More importantly, I"d be letting him down, too, and that was just not going to happen. "I will be there," I told her, slamming my door shut and pressing the button to start the ignition of my car. "I"ll call you when I"m getting close."
"Okay, drive safe," Kaylee told me.
"I always do." I ended the call, dropped my cell into the center console, and shifted my car into reverse as I mentally went through my list of things I needed to do.
Hair, nails, and makeup"
Check, check, check.
All thanks to Gregorio, who"d had me in his chair for basically the whole day.
I peeked in the rearview mirror into the backseat at the garment bag I"d just laid across the seat.
I bit back a squeal.
I couldn"t wait to get back to my condo to slip out of my VS sweatpants and tank and into the gorgeousness.
All I had to do was rush back across town, change, and climb into the limo.
I glanced down at the time on the dash.
Oh, you know, all in about under five minutes.
A pulse of anxiety thrummed in my chest, and I took a deep breath and pasted on a smile.
I had this.
I always did.
I started to back out of the parking spot when my eye snagged on the billboard across the street.
My daddy had always told me I had the attention span of a two-year-old.
I begged to differ.
It was my attention getting fixated on something that usually got me into trouble. So distracted and wrapped up that I didn"t have the first clue what was going on around me except for that singular focus.
Take this billboard, for instance.
I blamed it on the marketing degree I had tucked under my belt as well as everything I"d learned at the ad company where I"d worked for the last five years.
It was all due to that keen, savvy eye.
I couldn"t help but stare at the advertisement for an upscale shop on Rodeo Drive.
Plastered on that billboard was what had to be the sexiest man I"d ever seen. He was in nothing but a pair of tight black underwear, his arms folded over his head, a pose that showcased the most glorious set of abs a woman could ever hope to imagine existed outside the realm of Photoshop.
Too bad I knew that all that ridiculous muscle had to have been fabricated on the screen.
The thing was, though, the smolder on his face was enough to ignite a fire.
One right in the center of me, and I was pretty sure that was not something that could be forged.
Obviously, a display of clothes wasn"t necessary to sell them.
Beauty always captured the eye. Sex sold it.
It was only natural.
It was simply human nature to be drawn to it.
So what harm could a little ogling of a picture do" Especially considering every man I came across in this city turned out to be nothing but a douchebag doing anything it took to make it in Hollywood.