Page 90 of Total Creative Control

But when he reached his desk, he found something waiting for him there: a clear plastic bowl of pineapple, blueberries, and cantaloupe, with a Post-it note on top in Aaron’s handwriting.

“Man cannot live by ham sandwich alone.A.”

Lewis’s heart twisted.

He dropped into his chair, stared at the fruit bowl, and wondered how to get the food past the lump in his throat.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Aaron

By nine o’clock, the Monster Mash-up was in full flow, and Aaron was contemplating how soon he could head home. The music was loud, the laughter louder, and the hotel ballroom was awash with witches, ghouls, zombies, ghosts, and several iterations of vampire. None of whom held a candle to Skye Jäger.

Aaron stood with theBow Streetteam, nursing the crimson concoction Tag had fetched him from the bar—his third of the evening. It was called a Bloody Vampire and consisted of vodka, cherry vodka, gin, grenadine, and soda water. It was...lethal. Tasty, but lethal.

Much like Tag tonight, whose costume consisted of a tiny pair of silver shorts, a blood-smeared barista apron that he’d discarded shortly after they arrived, a lot of body paint, and his customary bright white smile.

“I’m a zombie barista, of course!” he’d announced, grinning, when Aaron had asked what he was supposed to be.

Tag was easy company, cheerful and uncomplicated. Gorgeous, too, if you liked beautiful young men with washboard abs and perfect teeth. Which yes, Aaron did, he supposed. Just not as much as he liked glowering Heathcliff types with secretly gorgeous smiles that could only be coaxed out by someone in the know.

Right now, Tag and Marc and Chika were talking animatedly, laughing about something that Aaron had missed.

In truth, he wasn’t really listening, too busy mulling over his lunchtime encounter with Lewis.

Although it had started out awkwardly, it had ended up being the easiest conversation they’d had in a month. Almost like old times. He hadn’t wanted Lewis to leave and had watched the speed of Tag’s progress through the queue and back to their table with an ungenerous feeling of regret. Had he been there alone, he’d have been able to invite Lewis to sit down. Would he have done it, he wondered, given the chance?

He knew he’d done the right thing by taking theBow Streetrole. Knew too that the best thing for him was to stay away from Lewis. But the truth was, he missed Lewis desperately.

So, in fact, it was lucky he’d been there with Tag. Tag’s presence had saved him from temptation.

Not that Aaron had escaped from their encounter unscathed. Even now, he found himself dwelling on every word they’d exchanged. Not to mention that look in Lewis’s eyes that Aaron felt sure he hadn’t seen before. An awkward intensity, a vulnerability that had squeezed all the air out of Aaron’s lungs and made him want to do stupid things.

Like leaving a pot of fruit and a jokey note on Lewis’s desk.Whyhad he done that?

Suboptimal, he reminded himself.Sub. Optimal.

“Wow, look at you!”

He was yanked out of his brooding by Toni, who sailed towards him in scarlet heels, a slinky red dress, and a towering Bride of Frankenstein wig. She bussed his cheeks, French style.

“You look glorious, Aaron. Thoseeyes!”

Dutifully, he fluttered his lashes. “Chika went to work on me. They’re meant to look smoky and wicked.” He lifted one berobed arm. “Suitable for a warlocky-wizard, apparently.”

“They’re smoking all right.” Toni flashed a grin, looking rather wicked herself. And rather tipsy. “If I were ten years younger. And a man…”

Aaron laughed. “I should be so lucky.”

“Youwouldbe lucky,” Toni agreed and took a long swallow from her glass of champagne. “God, I needed that. I’ve just escaped from schmoozing the talent.” She waved her glass towards the bar where several actors from RPP’s shows had gathered. Jay Warren was among them, the actor who played Skye. He was unmissable—a head taller than the others, with clean-cut features, perfectly coiffed hair, and his face all lit up with laughter at something Alyssa Bursill was saying. She was the pretty blonde actress who played Amy.

A different breed, actors, made of starlight and ego. Aaron suspected it was something of an ordeal for them to mix with the hoi polloi like this. Not that they really mixed, usually sticking together to avoid the starstruck minions gazing from afar. Safety in numbers, he supposed.

Personally, he wasn’t interested in mixing with them either. He preferred to keep his distance, not wanting his vision of the characters to be influenced by the personalities of the actors. He spotted Mason among them, though, looking as stunning as always—but if Mason was hoping to run into Lewis, he was in for a disappointing night. Still, judging by the sidelong look Jay was sending him, Mason might not be going home alone tonight. And Jay wasn’t the only one. Aaron had noticed Tag staring at Mason earlier too.

Aaron found it dispiriting to discover how little that bothered him. He’d made it clear to Tag over the last couple of days that he didn’t want to progress beyond flirty, platonic friendship, and Tag had taken the rejection with typical good humour. But really, how sad was it that Aaron felt only relief? Tag was objectively gorgeous and fun and—

“Nowthat’sa heavy sigh,” Toni said, interrupting his thoughts. “Not in the party mood?”