Page 39 of Love: Take Two

I leave before either of them can reply and head straight for my car waiting outside. I don't need to check anything else before I go, and I damn sure don't need to get caught up in Noah again.

Chapter twenty-one

Awa

"Ihope your resolution was to get more sleep, or to drink more water,ma cherie, because you've never looked more tired."

I'm about to roll my eyes when I remember I'm on a video call. I settle for gritting my teeth.

"Yes,Maman. I have a break planned once the movie wraps, and I'll be sure to sleep in, drink plenty of water, and come back rested and refreshed."

She hums approvingly, but her lips are still pursed.

"If you'd come home for Christmas like you said you might, you'dalreadybe rested."

This time, I have to close my eyes to keep from rolling them. How does my mother always know when I'm close to breaking? When I'm hanging on by a thread and one more unkind word could send me over the edge?

Today, her call came after a tense meeting with Conrad and Emmitt. Shooting has calmed down, but Tabitha insists I stay with her on set to keep things that way. I suspect that, like my mother, she's noticed I'm nearing burnout and running on fumes. She hasn't said anything, but I've caught her worried expressions when I take a call while still texting a casting director, or when I can't hide a yawn after filming runs late. I appreciate her concern, even if I'll never admit the nonstop work is getting to me.

Luckily, it's just as easy to take calls and review contracts from here on set as it is from my office at Gehrig & Associates. At least here, they're not breathing down my neck, trying to see what magic trick I did to earn the retainer and loyalty of one of the hottest actors in Hollywood. There is no magic trick; I'm just damn good at my job and actually care about the art my clients are making. I care about their careers and reputations, not just my percentage.

"I'm sorry,Maman," I offer, doing my best to hide my irritation. "It would've been cutting it too close, and I would've been on the phone the whole time."

That earns me a lecture about working too hard, a foreign concept to my mother before today. This same woman didn't speak to me for a week when she found out I took a solo trip to New Orleans instead of studying straight through my first Spring Break of law school. Maybe I reallydolook tired...

By the time my driver pulls up to the lot, I've promised to rest, drink water, and call her friend's daughter, who's visitingNew York in two weeks. I could squeeze it in before my meeting with the Branton team, but I have to end it right at twelve to make my lunch at Nobu.

I push back my twists and pinch the bridge of my nose.

Six days into the new year, and I'm already getting déjà vu of last year's unrelenting pace. Can I honestly keep going like this? Do I even have a choice?

"Is everything OK?" Noah questions when I slump into the chair next to him, making the heavy plastic creak. I must make a face because he holds his hands up in surrender.

"Not that you don't look lovely, as always," he amends. "It's just that you're frowning at your phone like it called you a name, and I can feel the annoyance radiating off you like that space heater over there."

It's official. His smirk—his entireface—is irresistible. Why else would I retract my claws when I would normally go in for the kill over the meresuggestionI'm not OK?OKisn't required to do the job; results are.

"Sorry," I mutter, and yank my laptop, then my cord out of my bag, slamming them both onto the table. I don't have it in me to hide my frustration. Not right now.

"Tough meeting, followed by some 'helpful' comments from my mom." I make air quotes. "I'll try not to take my bad mood out on you."

"Well, this should help," he says, taking a steaming travel cup and something wrapped in wax paper from behind hisback. "The coffee shop got my order wrong, so I have an extra latte. They threw in a slice of coffee cake for my trouble."

My mouth is already watering as I take the peace offering from his hands.

"You are a godsend!" I gush after the first sip. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replies, "though calling me a god is a bit much."

I flick his shoulder with the hand not clutching the warm cup, and he laughs.

"Godsend," I correct. "And what exactly is wrong with this latte? It tastes perfectly fine to me."

"They used soy milk instead of oat. I don't like the gritty texture."

I take another sip, tasting for grit and finding nothing. I shrug.

"Well, feel free to give me your soy lattes now and in the future. I don't care what kind of milk they have in them as long as there's caffeine."