With an effort, she quieted the nagging voice in her head and spied Sig Masters. Despite the stigma of actually taking the shot that had wounded Lucinda, Sig had shown up and now was talking to one of the writers. Upon spying Lucinda rolling his way, he ended the conversation and headed straight for the open bar.
Cassie understood. Seeing Lucinda in the chair had to be tough for him. And yet he’d attended, knowing full well she might appear. Sig actually had more guts than Cassie had given him credit for. Or else he was a glutton for punishment.
She felt Trent’s hand tighten over her arm.
“You okay with all of this?”
“No,” she admitted, wondering if she should even have come. But the truth of the matter was that by not showing, she would have been making a bigger statement and here, at least, the people who had been avoiding her would have a tougher time ignoring her. She glanced up at her husband. “Let’s get a drink.”
“Great idea.”
As they headed to the bar, Cassie caught Ineesha’s eye. Wrapped in a conversation with Sybil Jones, the prop manager visibly started, her lips compressing, her eyes thinning. Obviously she wasn’t over Cassie’s intrusion at her gym workout in California. Quickly and pointedly, she ended her conversation and turned on her heel as Cassie approached.
“Wow. That wasn’t obvious at all.” Cherise watched Ineesha wend her way through the clusters of guests. “Don’t let her get to you.”
Cassie shook her head. “Never.”
“She’s just in a bad mood.”
“When isn’t she?”
Cherise giggled, then sipped from her glass of champagne, her green eyes dancing with mischief. “It doesn’t look like she got in her million steps today.”
Cassie actually smiled.
“I think her pedometer might blow up because she works out so much,” Cherise said. “She’s probably racewalking her way to the hotel gym right now.”
“You’re wicked.”
“When I have to be.”
Cassie had a sudden mental image of Ineesha in her long dress on some kind of weightlifting machine, her back muscles visibly straining as she moved a bar, her body sweating all over her designer gown. “Not a pretty image.”
Trent bent closer to Cassie and said, “I’ll get the drinks. Be right back.” She nodded and he smiled slyly. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Oh, wow, so you two are back together?” Cherise asked, her gaze following Trent as he slipped around a large group of guests and made his way to the bar.
“I guess.”
“Looks like he’s really into you.” Cherise’s eyes thinned before she sighed wistfully. “Must be nice.”
“It is. Mostly.” Except when you act like a jealous idiot and accuse him of being in love with your sister.
Dragging her gaze away from Trent’s backside, Cherise rimmed the edge of her glass with a manicured finger. “I don’t suppose there’s any word on Allie?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad,” she said without much empathy. “I’m sorry. But, you know she was kind of a pain to work for, but way better than Brandon. He’s . . .”
“All about himself.”
Cherise nodded, her eyebrows pulling together, her voice a barely audible whisper. “I think he’s dating someone, but he’s keeping it very hush-hush.”
“Probably until after the movie’s out for a while,” Cassie said. “For the fans. They want to think that he’s still in love with Allie.” She made a sweeping gesture with one hand to the horrible stages of Allie lining the vast room. “For this. To keep up the fantasy. To sell more tickets.”
“Maybe.” Another swallow from her glass. Her lips pursed as if she’d just thought of something bothersome. “You know, I have this feeling . . . I mean he’s never said it, of course, but . . . I think he never got over Allie.” The words had a bit of bitterness to them and the corners of Cherise’s mouth turned down. Cassie couldn’t help but wonder if McNary’s assistant had a secret crush on her boss. It wouldn’t be the first time and, of course, McNary was considered a heartthrob.
