His Larkville Cinderella

Adam helped her sort the rest of the shoes. Having his assistance made the task go faster. She put on the lids, then stacked the boxes. “Thanks so much. I won’t have time to grab lunch, but I won’t be in too much trouble for being late.”

“You haven’t eaten?”

The concern in Adam’s voice surprised her.

“I’ve eaten. Well, not today. I’ve been living off pizza, fast food and coffee. I was hoping to have a sit-down meal. Maybe tomorrow.” Megan picked up five boxes. The different sizes made balancing difficult, but she managed. “I’d better get these inside.”

Boxes slipped.

Adam straightened the stack with one hand while his other rested on the small of her back. “Be careful.”

No kidding. The jersey knit fabric of her T-shirt kept their skin from touching, but awareness seeped through her. Heat, too.

The imprint of his large, warm hand left her tongue-tied. She took two steps back. “Th-thanks. I’ve got them.”

“You have a lot of boxes,” he said. “I’ll carry some in.”

Megan’s brow knotted. “But you’re the star …”

“I was trying to get a rise out of you by saying that.”

“It worked.”

“And now you’re not going to let me forget I said that.”

“You are the star.”

He shook his head, but looked amused.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t be able to remind you about it too much. I doubt our paths will cross much after filming begins.”

“They call it shooting, not filming.”

“I didn’t know that. Thanks.”

Not seeing Adam would be kind of a bummer. He was the only person who had not only been nice but also offered to help her. That made Adam Noble the closest thing to a friend she had in Los Angeles. Not that she had anything in common with him.

His eyes darkened. “I was a jerk to you at Chas’s place.”

Megan drew back, careful not to let any of the boxes fall. She never would have expected Adam to own up to his behavior. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Him. HollywoodA-lister and all-around nice guy seemed to be contradictory terms, yet he appeared to be both. “I’m figuring out that’s how things work here when you’re new.”

“That’s not how things should work.” Adam picked up several of the shoeboxes, enough to save her two trips. “Let me make it up to you.”

Once again, Adam had done—make that said—the unexpected. His display of chivalry confused her. He seemed so different from everyone else she’d met this week. She wanted to know how he thought things should work in Hollywood, but he didn’t need to make anything up to her. Not really. “You are, by helping me.”

“This is nothing,” Adam said. “Let me buy you lunch after the fitting. We can have a sit-down meal in the commissary. No eating on the run or in your car.”

She hadn’t known what he’d meant by making it up to her, but a lunch invite hadn’t been it. A part of Megan wanted to accept. She could use some company and conversation. Both were sparse around here. Not to mention she was hungry. But his reputation as a ladies’ man made her wonder if he had an ulterior motive. Maybe he was the type of man who always wanted women to like him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“I might not finish at the same time as you.”

“I’m not in a hurry.”

“I might be sent on another errand.”

“You might not.”

His attention flattered her. Until Megan remembered how he’d focused on each person at the table in Malibu. Maybe Adam was the kind of person who didn’t like to feel under obligation.

“What do you say?” he asked. “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m finished.”

If Adam felt he owed her, her accepting his invitation would make things square between them. If he had asked her out for more nefarious reasons, she could handle it. Him. Nate had taught her a few self-defense moves he’d learned in his military training. But she honestly didn’t think she had to worry about that with Adam.

Truth was, having lunch with him appealed to Megan. Eating her meals on the go and alone was getting old fast. She was figuring out the people you knew in the business were as important as what you knew. Being on good terms with a movie star of Adam Noble’s stature couldn’t hurt her, especially when it came to finding a permanent position. She would need people to give her recommendations. His name would carry weight.

“Sure,” she said. “I’d like that.”

Two hours later, Adam stood in one of the dressing rooms in the wardrobe department. People, mainly women, scurried in and out, buzzing around him like bees as they scribbled notes.

He was nothing more than a living, breathing mannequin. Clothes came off. Others went on. His white boxer briefs were the only item that remained on his body the entire time.

A mix of perfumes wafted in the air. Adam recognized the scent of one, Chanel No. 5. His mother wore that.

He preferred the way Megan smelled—like springtime. Light, sunny, a little flowery. Not a chemical scent manufactured in a lab, but the real deal.

He was looking forward to having lunch with her. She was different from the people he normally came in contact with, so unaffected.

She’d disappeared after they’d brought in the shoes. He kept hoping she’d breeze into his dressing room.

The costumer, a woman in her early thirties named Kenna, straightened the shoulders of his tuxedo jacket. “I’d forgotten how well this tuxedo fits you. Forty-two long, right?”

Adam nodded. He’d worked with her before on the Roman gods epic blockbuster that had made him a bankable star. Her hair had been blond then, not a flaming red. The new color suited Kenna as did the vintage clothing she always wore. “Thanks to you.”

With a grin, she adjusted his sleeves. “I wish all actors had wide shoulders like yours. Suits and tuxedos look so much nicer.”

Adam would wear the tux during the first turning point when his character, Maxwell Caldecott, became the scapegoat for his wealthy father-in-law’s illegal activity and was arrested. But the tux made him think of something other than that pivotal scene—award season. He was banking on this drama, a character piece with big emotions, to catapult him into an award nominee and winner.

He winked. “I bet you say that to all the actors.”

The set costumer, a woman in her late twenties named Rosie, tied his bow tie. “Only the hot ones.”

“The truth comes out,” he teased.

The women smiled at him. These weren’t flirtatious come-ons, but genuine grins.

Adam appreciated their good humor. He couldn’t imagine the past few days had been easy on them. They both had the same dark circles under their eyes as Megan. He wondered what she was doing right now.