Just the Sexiest Man Alive

Thirty-three

LINDA HELD UP the last of the remaining boxes, one marked “Miscellaneous.” Taylor gestured to the stack they had collected by her office door. “That one gets shipped to Chicago.” Linda nodded and put the box with the others.

They had been going at this for the past two days. For only having been in Los Angeles for a few months, Taylor had managed to collect a lot of files.

“I think that’s the last one,” Linda said.

Taylor nodded. She felt tired. Probably from all the packing, which seemed endless. When she wasn’t packing at the office, she was packing at home. The movers were coming to her apartment first thing the next morning, and then she’d be off to the airport. She already had several meetings scheduled for tomorrow afternoon in the Chicago office. As a new partner, she wanted to hit the ground running.

At the thought of being back in Chicago, Taylor looked out her office window. She knew Linda wanted to ask about Jason but Taylor really hoped she wouldn’t. It was bad enough that she was a mess at home. Every time her phone rang, she ran and checked the caller ID, hoping to see Jason’s number. She’d even skimmed the cable guide a time or two, looking to see if any of his movies just “happened” to be on.

Sensing that Taylor needed a moment alone, Linda turned to leave the office. But then she stopped in the doorway. “I just realized, we forgot to pack your desk drawer.”

The desk had one narrow drawer in the center. Taylor glanced at it, and then waved Linda off. “It’s no problem. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“Are you sure?”

Taylor nodded. “Yep. There’s not much in there anyway, just a few pens and notepads.”

Linda nodded and left. Taylor stayed at her desk until she knew the coast was clear, then walked over and shut her door. When she got back to her desk, she slowly opened its one drawer. Folded inside was the “Shit Happens” T-shirt.

Taylor took the shirt out and set it on top of her desk. She ran her finger over the words. It was where it had all begun.

She got up and headed over to the box marked “Miscellaneous.” Being careful to keep the shirt neatly folded, she placed it inside the box, smoothing it to make sure it didn’t wrinkle.

She took a step back and nodded. That was that.

She closed the lid of the box and tightly sealed it with the roll of packing tape Linda had left behind.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Taylor heard laughter and excited voices outside her office: the familiar chatter of the secretarial cohorts. She realized that she would actually kind of miss it.

But then she heard a man’s voice. A lazy drawl she would’ve recognized anywhere.

“Well, I’m glad to see you ladies missed me,” the voice said teasingly.

Jason!

Taylor flew out of her desk chair and ran into the hallway and—

—stopped when she saw the secretaries crowded around Linda’s desk, watching television. On the screen, Taylor could see Jason being interviewed on The View. Her face fell in disappointment.

Seeing Taylor’s expression, Linda came over. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just got back from dropping your boxes off in the mail room and found them watching the TV again.”

“It’s okay, Linda.”

The other secretaries turned when they heard her voice. “Oh good, Taylor, you’re here,” the secretary nearest the television said. “I think you might want to see this.”

Taylor couldn’t help but be curious. “You’ve seen this before?”

“I recorded it and brought it in. I thought you should watch for yourself,” the secretary replied.

Unable to help herself, Taylor watched as Barbara Walters began the interview with some standard chitchat, asking Jason about his hectic schedule. Ever the movie star, he smiled and agreed that things were crazy, promoting one film while in the middle of shooting another.

Then Whoopi jumped in and told Jason to cut the crap and just tell everyone who the Mystery Woman was.

Jason laughed. He shook his head.

“Oh my god, he’s blushing!” one of the secretaries gushed, squeezing Taylor’s shoulders excitedly. She watched as Whoopi refused to accept Jason’s silence on the subject.

“C’mon, Jason, tell us something!” she demanded. “Tell us just one little something about the Mystery Woman.”

When Jason remained coyly silent, Whoopi raised one hopeful eyebrow. “Not even just one tiny word? At least give us that.”

Jason thought about this for a moment. Then on national television, he summed up Taylor Donovan in just one word.

“Amazing.”

The secretarial cohorts gasped out loud. Taylor felt her stomach do a little flip-flop.

“He never talks about women like that,” the secretary nearest the television told her. “I just thought maybe you should see this. You know, before you go back to Chicago.”

“When did you tape this?” Taylor quickly asked. “What day was this interview?”

The secretary had to think for a second. “Ummm . . . two days ago, I think.”

Taylor’s heart sunk. Jason must have taped it the same day he’d been in New York for the Today show. The morning before their fight. She highly doubted he would describe her as “amazing” anymore. An “amazing” bitch, perhaps.

She turned back to the television just as the blonde girl, that one from Survivor, steered the conversation to Jason’s newest film.

“So, Jason, your new film, Inferno, opens on Friday. Tell us a little bit about the movie. What was it that drew you to this part?”

“Mostly, it was the chance to work with Steve Clarentini,” Jason said.

“And what was that like, working with him? He has a reputation for being a somewhat difficult director—did you experience any of that?”

Taylor laughed at the question. Linda glanced over.

“I can’t wait to see him answer this—Jason told me he hated every moment he worked with that guy,” Taylor explained.

She and Linda watched as Jason nonchalantly leaned back against the couch.

“Steve is a great director,” he said casually. “I wouldn’t say we had any particular problems getting along. We had the normal actor-director relationship.” As he said this, he absentmindedly turned his watch around his wrist.

The gesture caught Taylor’s eye. She took a step closer to the television.

“So all those rumors of the two of you not getting along on set, none of that was true?” the blonde Survivor chick persisted.

Jason pooh-poohed this with a smile. “No, no—the tabloids blew all of that out of proportion. Steve and I didn’t have any problems on the set.” Again, he toyed casually with his watch, turning it around his wrist.

Taylor stood in the hallway of her office, stunned.

She knew that gesture.

That thing with the watch, it was the same gesture he’d made that first day they’d met, during her cross-examination, when he said he’d had a “film emergency.” It was the same gesture he’d made when he’d been flirting with Naomi and said there was nothing he’d rather do than go to Napa Valley with her.

Suddenly, Taylor’s eyes widened knowingly.

“He lied,” she whispered.

Hearing this, Linda waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, these actors lie all the time about problems they have on the set. It’s what their publicists tell them to say.”

“No—he lied about Naomi.”

Linda looked at her, confused. “Naomi? Naomi Cross?”

Distracted, Taylor ignored Linda’s question. Why would Jason do that? She turned and slowly headed back to her office and took a seat at her desk.

He had been lying about Naomi.

So? What did that mean?

Well, it might mean that he’d been telling the truth when he said he’d thought only of her since the moment they met.

Which then meant . . . what? What, exactly?

She was packed and ready to go. She’d be in Chicago tomorrow. She’d be a partner in Chicago tomorrow.

Taylor needed a minute to think.

He said she was amazing.

He said she belonged with him.

Maybe those weren’t just words.

But it was too late. She had already accepted the firm’s offer. There was nothing she could do. Fine—nothing she would do. Nothing she wanted to do.

Was there?

Taylor braced herself against the edge of her desk.

Her leg began to bounce nervously.

Oh god.

TAYLOR KNOCKED ON Sam’s door. He looked up and smiled. “Hey there, Partner.”

Taylor gulped nervously, hesitating in the doorway. “Got a minute?”

Sam waved her in. “Sure, sure. Come on in.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

Taylor chose to remain standing. She fidgeted nervously. “Um, so . . . wow.” She laughed shakily. At Sam’s odd look, she pulled herself together.

“I wanted to thank you again, Sam, for the partnership offer. I know you had a lot to do with it.”

“You did it yourself,” he told her in all seriousness. “You should be very proud.”

Taylor struggled with her next words. “But I’ve just been wondering, does it really have to be Chicago?”

Sam sighed, as if he had been expecting this. “The head of our employment group is in Chicago. You know it’s where you’re the most marketable.”

Taylor nodded. She did know this. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that took up an entire wall of the partner’s office and looked out at the view of Los Angeles. The city was right there at her feet. Waiting.

Sam approached her from behind. “I don’t want to play hardball with you, Taylor. I respect you far too much for that. But the firm has never before made an offer for early partnership to any associate. They’ve gone out on a limb here. If you don’t take this now, they’ll never offer it to you again.”

Taylor gazed out the window. “I know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem . . . is that it seems I’ve become rather attached to this city.”

Sam wasn’t fooled. “I know what you’re attached to, Taylor. But you need to be pragmatic about this. You know his reputation.”

She remained silent.

Sam persisted. “Come on—what do you think? That it won’t be that way with you? That you’re different?” He shook his head. “You can’t honestly believe that.”

When Taylor still didn’t answer, Sam looked over.

“Do you?”

Taylor stared out at the city below.

Actually . . . yes. She did believe it.

Her voice was soft, barely audible. “I do.”

Sam’s head snapped back, surprised. “Do you really? Are you willing to risk your career on that?”

Taylor turned around. “I think that for him, I’d risk everything.”

With that, she apologized to Sam and walked out of his office. She felt as though an enormous weight suddenly had been lifted off her shoulders. And she felt steadier, more confident than ever in knowing exactly what she wanted.

Okay, Jason Andrews, she thought. Game on.

TAYLOR RUSHED BY her secretary’s desk on her way to the elevators.

“Linda—I need you to go to the mail room and put a hold on all the boxes we’re shipping to Chicago.”

Hearing the urgency in her voice, Linda jumped to attention.

“Why? Oh my gosh, what’s happening? Wait—does this mean you’re staying in Los Angeles?” She hurried after Taylor, following her down the hall.

When they hit the elevator bank, Taylor pushed the down button. “I don’t know—I guess that’s what I’m about to find out.”

The elevator doors opened and she turned to Linda. “Wish me luck,” she said, stepping inside. She stopped after taking two steps into the elevator. And stepped right back out.

Taylor glanced over at her secretary. “What day is today?”

Linda had to think for a moment. “Thursday. The fourteenth. Why?”

Taylor immediately checked her watch, then swore under her breath.

“What? What is it?” Linda asked.

Taylor turned to her, her eyes filled with horror.

“He’s at his premiere.”