Taking Her There by Olivia Brynn Read Free Book Online

marginally. “Yeah, I guess I have without realizing it. I kind of get in a groove sometimes and just block out everything else. Did you need a ride somewhere? I can get the car.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Nope. I don’t need the car. I want to talk. Are you going to invite me in?”
    His mouth went dry. “Of course. Sorry. Please.” He probably should apologize for the state of his apartment. Paint-stained tarps covered most of the hardwood floor. Two of the three chairs were propping up his canvas. He didn’t own a couch.
    “So that’s the masterpiece, huh?” She took a step toward it.
    He stopped her with a hand around her elbow. “I just finished it.”
    “So?”
    “So…the paint’s still wet.” He glanced toward the canvas.
    “I won’t touch it. She shifted to take another step, and he tightened his hold.
    “It’s not…ready.”
    “You said you just finished.”
    He looked everywhere but at her. “It’s…finished, just not…ready.”
    She raised an eyebrow.
    He sighed. “It sounds crazy, but after I finish a piece, I need to let it sit. It’s a time when I have to”—he shrugged—“sever ties.” The hand on her arm gentled to a caress. “I invest a lot emotionally. It takes a while for me to come to terms that it’s no longer an extension of me and now its own entity.” He groaned. “Sounds a little psycho, huh?”
    She shook her head and smiled. “Not at all. There are times after playing a particularly difficult role where I’ll need some time alone just to purge that character and get back to myself.”
    He released the breath he’d held. “Did you ever think you’d have so much in common with your chauffer?”
    She spun away and out of his hold. She flopped into the recliner, the only piece of furniture that hadn’t been sacrificed to the art project. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
    Here it comes. He clenched his fists, wishing he at least had a shirt on. Being fired half naked and sprinkled with paint would be pretty humiliating. After a deep breath, he said, “Go ahead.”
    “Well, you know, I had a nice long chat with Luke.” She didn’t elaborate. The little spitfire was playing with him.
    “And?”
    “And he seems to think I’d be committing career suicide if I start sleeping with my chauffer.” She met his gaze. “I think he might have a point.”
    Andre lifted his chin. Even though he’d expected her actions, and he’d tried preparing himself, it still hit him in the gut. What in the hell made him think she’d dump Luke Edwards for a struggling artist who paid the bills by driving people around? “I see.”
    “So I’ll call the agency later on today and have them send over your replacement as soon as possible.”
    He nodded. Slowly. Without releasing her from his intense stare.
    She crossed her legs and wagged her foot, completely comfortable. “No questions?”
    “How long do I have?”
    “Why? Feel like getting behind the wheel one last time?”
    He clenched his teeth. “I just want to know how much time I have to find a new place to live.”
    “I never said you had to move out.”
    What? He replayed the sentence again in his mind, but it still made no sense.
    “It’s simple,” she continued. “I need to get my image back under control so I can stop being the butt of every late-night talk show, and so I can eventually star in some family films when I start getting old and matronly looking. I can’t sleep with my driver, so…you’re not my driver.”
    He crossed his arms. “So you’re firing me so you can sleep with me?”
    She shrugged. As if these conversations happened all the time. “I want to continue sleeping with you. Is that a problem?”
    “Well, yeah, I have a little problem. I need a job.”
    “What do you call that?” She gestured toward his studio.
    “That? That’s my dream.”
    “Huh. But if you do it well, do people pay you for it?”
    “Well…yes. But—”
    “Sounds a lot like my