A Heart to Trust, A.L. Brooks [speed reading book TXT] 📗

ready on time. The venue plans were coming along, as were all the ancillary plans around transportation, security, and catering.

The first rehearsal, a technical walk-through, was scheduled for today, the first Thursday afternoon in November. There would be a fuller rehearsal, with as many of the actual participants as they could manage, in the middle of December, but the four production assistants would stand in for the stars and host for today.

They took the subway downtown as a group, which was only a tad awkward in terms of Chrissy and Olivia not talking to each other. Once at the Excelsior they met with Marisa again, who took them to the Hudson Room and handed them each an up-to-date floor plan for the event.

The assistant director, a guy in his mid-forties named Arnold Dunn—with so much facial hair he resembled a grizzly bear—introduced himself. He was, much to Jenny’s relief, nice to her and the other PAs. She had experienced directors and executive producers who weren’t, so she warmed to the bear man immediately.

“You’re going to be invaluable today.” He smiled kindly at them. “I’ll try not to rush you around too much, but you are PAs, famous sportsmen-turned-models, hosts, and anyone else I need you to be.” He held up his hands and chuckled. “Try to keep up.”

An hour later, Jenny stopped to catch her breath after she’d run behind the stage from one end of the hallway to the other. She’d never been one for hitting the gym regularly, and it showed. All she’d had to do was grab a crate of cabling from the far end and bring it to the electrician at this end, and she was puffing.

“You okay?” he asked.

She handed him the crate. “Fine.” She put her hands on her hips and inhaled deeply. “Fine.”

He smirked and turned back to his work.

“Jenny!” someone called in her radio earpiece. “Out front, please!”

She sucked in another breath, pulled open the door to the left of stage, and stepped out.

Olivia stood on the other side of the door, and Jenny collided with her with a loud, “Oof!”

They both automatically reached out to balance each other, their arms ending up wrapped around each other’s waists.

Jenny was instantly aware of the curve of Olivia’s waist, of the heat beneath the soft material of Olivia’s shirt.

Olivia’s gaze met hers and the hazel of her eyes, darkening by the second, mesmerized Jenny once more. Then Olivia’s fingers grasped, slowly but firmly, at Jenny’s waist. Sparks zapped down her back, over her ass, and down her thighs. Olivia’s lips parted, and Jenny noticed how they glistened in the overhead light and how soft and kissable they—

“Jenny?” Chrissy said from somewhere nearby.

Olivia and Jenny leaped apart as if they’d each bounced off an invisible force field.

Jenny spun to face Chrissy, who wore a deeply suspicious look on her face. “Hey! Was it you who called me out here?” Her voice was pitched higher than normal, and she cleared her throat.

Chrissy shook her head; her gaze flitted from Jenny to Olivia and back again.

Jenny’s face was hot; she wondered if Olivia’s was just as pink.

“I’m needed backstage,” Olivia murmured, and stepped through the door without looking at Jenny again.

“And someone needs me up front.” Jenny didn’t dare meet Chrissy’s gaze. She walked away as quickly and as gracefully as she could, her heart pounding, her brain still replaying how intensely arousing it had been to have Olivia’s grip tighten on her body.

Olivia walked serenely down the hallway that ran the length of backstage and into what would become the greenroom on the night of the gala. She shut the door behind her and slumped against it, closing her eyes as she leaned her head back against the wood. Her breathing was a tad ragged, and her pulse an unnerving throb in her wrists and neck.

This is getting ridiculous. She sighed. Her body was still warm from the feel of Jenny in her arms. She couldn’t believe she’d hugged Jenny in the office on the day Derek announced they were changing the project, and now she’d inadvertently done it again. It was the sweetest torture imaginable.

She remembered Broderick questioning her back when they struck their deal. How he’d tried to make her aware of what she had to give up, albeit temporarily, to help him make his lifelong dream come true.

“At least two years, Olivia,” he’d said. “Two years with no girlfriend, not even a one-night stand. Have you thought about that? Really thought about it?”

She believed she had. And up until now, she had been absolutely fine. Yes, because I hadn’t met anyone quite like Jenny. It still baffled her. Jenny, from outward appearances, wasn’t her type. And yet… When I’m with her, I can’t stop smiling, and when I’m not with her, I can’t seem to stop thinking about her.

She stepped away from the door and paced the room. This is ridiculous. And so risky.

Chrissy had looked incredibly suspicious just now, and she was the last person Olivia wanted to have gossiping about her.

She knew what she needed to do, and she took a couple of deep breaths as if to steel herself for the tasks. Firstly, she had to get that wall back in place, the one that kept her emotions—and libido—in check. Next, she had to get on with the project and make sure she got a job out of it at the end. Finally, she had to keep her mind and body immune to the charms of any woman she met until she and Broderick could get divorced. Then, and only then, can you go looking for someone special to make a life with.

Piece of cake.

She sighed.

Chapter 20

“You looked so good standing there, presenting your creations.” Jenny gave Carl another hug.

Carl ducked his head. “Thanks. It felt good to be up there.”

Tamara waved at Jenny from the bar and she walked over. “What are you having?”

Jenny pondered that for a moment. “A blue lagoon, please.”

They were in