both with her rendition of how this pivotal scene ought to play out. Except…who were Kurt and Reese? And an even bigger question now was…behind that homegirl front, who was Shelby Scott?
Running a hand back through his shock of dark hair, Rance jumped up. “Let’s get that down.” He slipped in behind the laptop, pushing aside the hard copy, which was fanned out over the tabletop. “We’ll need more backstory.”
Three hours passed, during which Shelby joined Rance at the table, Chinese was ordered in and the scene ended up in great shape. On his fifth cup of coffee, Rance turned at enough of an angle to sling an elbow over the back of his chair.
“Do you write, Shelby?” he asked.
“Not my strength.” Shaking back her mane of mahogany hair, she admitted, “But I watch a lot of movies.”
Dex pushed away his empty box of chow mein. “Have an all-time favorite?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Bet I won’t.”
“I like silent movies,” she admitted. “I like Valentino.”
“So do a lot of women in L.A.” Rance stood and stretched his back. “The haute couture kind.”
She laughed, and Dex saw Rance’s face light in a way he’d never seen before. After a nasty bust-up, Rance hadn’t dated in over a year. Dex guessed that tonight his friend had decided the drought should end.
“I don’t have much interest in high fashion,” she said.
“You should.” Rance sauntered over to where she sat. “I’m sure high fashion would like you. The screen, too. I’m surprised Dex hasn’t offered you a read.”
“Of a movie role?” She set down her chopsticks. “I don’t much like talking in front of people unless they’re kids.”
While she explained her nanny background and how tonight’s meeting had come about, Dex mulled over her admission. He wasn’t sold. She had spoken in front of a crowd at least once in her life, and the mysterious Reese and Kurt had comprised the subject matter.
As if she’d read his mind, her green gaze hooked over and caught his. Then she studied the time on her drugstore wristwatch and declared, “I need to get home.”
“Beauty sleep?” Rance asked with a you’re beautiful enough shine in his eyes.
“Shift starts at seven.” She found her feet. She’d already explained her work as a waitress on The Strip.
“Shelby’s place serves the best cheeseburgers in town,” Dex said. “And the best coffee—when I can keep it in my cup.”
He and Shelby shared a private smile before she began collecting empty boxes. “I’ll clean up.”
“You’re my guest,” Rance insisted.
“Neither of you would let me pay my share. This is my contribution.”
“You’ve done enough with your help on that script,” Dex pointed out.
“More than enough,” Rance added.
But, her mind made up, Shelby had already gathered up the boxes.
When she was out of earshot in the kitchen, Rance readjusted his glasses.
“She’s not your regular flavor. At first I thought she was another wannabe actress hoping to ride on your coattails all the way up to leading-lady heaven.”
“And now?”
Rance held his heart. “I’m in love.”
That was Dex’s cue to laugh. But he didn’t. Instead he stood and offered his friend a warning.
“She’s off-limits.”
“I thought she said you liked her for a babysitting gig?”
“And I don’t need her distracted from her job.”
“This is for your little brother, right? A vacation. Some time building sand castles. Couple days doing Disneyland. You’re not signing Shelby to a five-year contract.” He tapped fingertips on top of his hard copy. “She might enjoy having a stab at a different kind of role.”
“Helping you with scripts?”
“Why not?”
He’d tell him why not.
“She’s young. A nice girl from a small town. She doesn’t need anyone confusing issues.”
“And I suppose you have no intention of throwing a few of your own complications in.”
Dex was about to set Rance straight. Certainly Shelby was a beauty in all senses of the word, but he wasn’t laying a trap for her. He didn’t plan on seducing her, no matter how much he might like to.
Shelby reappeared.
“So, we’re done here?” she asked.
Rance’s grin was wry. “For the time being.”
After goodbyes, Dex and Shelby were back on the road. He put the address she gave him into the GPS while mulling over Rance’s comments. Shelby had been in town a second, and already she was attracting attention because of her looks and intelligence. Her modest brand of charm. As he pulled the car out and headed down the street, Dex decided that he’d need to get her signed before someone else snapped her up as a babysitter, model, actress, script doctor or, possibly, wife. Things happened fast in this town.
He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Rance thinks you’re a natural.”
“Beginner’s luck.”
“Or legitimate talent.”
“You don’t have to butter me up, Mr. Hunter.”
“The name’s Dex.”
“Either way, I haven’t changed my mind about working for you.”
He frowned across at her. “You believe me about Bernice, don’t you?” Gazing ahead, she nodded. “So what is it? You don’t enjoy Chinese? I have a housekeeper, so no chores there. I’ll get a cook in, too. Should have done it years ago.” She remained silent. “Did I mention your own suite overlooking the ocean?”
She turned her head away.
He tried to keep the annoyance from his voice. “You’re not giving me, or Tate, a chance.”
But she simply continued to gaze out at the Los Angeles streets whirring by. Dex gripped the wheel tighter. Man, she was stubborn. He only wished she wasn’t so darn attractive.
They arrived at Shelby’s apartment block, a modest complex situated in a nice enough neighborhood. Nevertheless, he cut off the engine and swung open his door to see her in. Shelby
