Damage Control (The Hollywood Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

having to pull his ass out of the fire time and again—on a Saturday night to boot. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Lauren slowly lowered the phone, pocketed it, and met Peyton’s resigned gaze. “I’m sorry. I have to go. One of my clients got himself into trouble. Why don’t we try for dinner sometime next week? Things should have settled down by then.”
    Peyton refolded her napkin and put it on the table. “I don’t think so. By then, you’ll probably have another fire to put out.”
    Lauren couldn’t even deny it. She’d canceled their second date at the last minute, too, because something had come up at work. If she was perfectly honest with herself, her job had always come first.
    “As nice as it’s been, I’m not into ménages à trois.”
    Halfway out of her chair, Lauren froze. Ménages à trois? What the heck did Peyton mean?
    Peyton gestured to the spot on the table where Lauren’s phone had been. “You, me, and your phone.”
    Ouch. Lauren winced but again didn’t try to defend herself. She rounded the table and took Peyton’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said again, meaning it. “Let me at least pay for your dinner so you can stay and enjoy the rest of the evening.”
    “No, that’s okay,” Peyton said, now sounding a little more friendly. She stood, leaned up on her tiptoes, and kissed Lauren, lingering for a moment.
    They both knew it was a kiss good-bye not just for tonight.
    As Lauren headed for her car at a fast clip, she felt like a loser. She did damage control for celebrities every day, yet couldn’t control the damage her job did to her private life.

    The waiter walked up to their table. “Good evening, ladies. My name is Marc. I’ll be your waiter for—” His gaze came to rest on Grace. He did a double take and paused in the middle of introducing himself. “Uh, you are…”
    Long since used to it, Grace just smiled and said, “Good evening.”
    “Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?” Marc asked when he recovered. “Our wine list is excellent.”
    “I’ll have a glass of pinot grigio, please,” Katherine said.
    “Right away, ma’am.” The waiter turned a questioning gaze on Grace.
    Grace suppressed a sigh. On days like this, it was really tempting to order a glass of champagne, her drink of choice in the past. But, as she had every day for the last thirteen years, she shook her head. “Just a Pellegrino for me.”
    “Very well.” After bowing slightly, he walked away and returned with their drink orders within less than five minutes. He started to recite the specials of the day, but Grace’s mother stopped him with a shake of her head.
    “My son-in-law will be joining us,” Katherine said, apparently enjoying calling Nick that as long as she still could. “We’ll wait to order until he arrives.”
    “Very well. Let me know if you need anything else.” After one last lingering glance at Grace, the waiter walked away.
    By the time they had both emptied their glasses, there was still no sign of Nick. Grace was beginning to doubt he would arrive anytime soon, if at all.
    “What’s keeping Nick so long?” her mother asked.
    “I have no idea, Mom. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic or something.” She bit her lip when she realized she was falling into the old habit of finding excuses for him.
    Her phone vibrated, rattling around in her clutch, and when she checked, a message from Nick had arrived.
     
    Sorry. Can’t make it. Rooney had us do fifty takes on this damn scene, and now I’m just fried.
     
    “Nick can’t make it,” she told her mother. “He got held up on set.”
    While her mother went on and on about neither of them putting any effort into saving their marriage, Grace shook her head at herself. Serves you right. Normally, she wasn’t the calculating type, but after her new publicist had suggested she be seen out and about with her husband, she had let her mother talk her into meeting Nick for dinner in this