Off Script

Chapter 16

Los Angeles welcomed her back the same way it always did—hot, loud, demanding.

Within hours of landing, Avery was back in her element.

Photoshoots.

Meetings.

Podcast prep.

Her assistant barely kept up as she slid right back into her curated chaos.

It was exactly what she wanted.

Busy enough to drown out thoughts of Michael's face in that bookstore.

Busy enough to ignore the lingering weight of Napa.

Busy enough to forget the quiet way Liam Bass had gotten under her skin.

Except... she wasn't busy enough.

Because no matter how much she packed her schedule, Liam's words from that vineyard still echoed louder than anything else.

"You'll know where to find me."

—

By the third day back, she'd almost convinced herself he'd let her go.

That maybe—just maybe—he'd lost interest.

Until the flowers arrived.

Not roses.

Not anything cliché.

White orchids.

Elegant. Rare. Breathtaking.

With no note.

Just his signature—clean, sharp—on the card.

Liam.

Her pulse kicked hard, but she didn't react.

At least not outwardly.

She tucked the card away, finished her shoot, and buried herself in emails.

But the flowers were only the beginning.

—

The next day, her assistant rushed into her office mid-meeting, face flushed and panicked.

"Uh, Avery?" she stammered.

Avery arched a brow, barely glancing up from her laptop.

"Unless the building's on fire, it can wait."

Her assistant swallowed hard.

"It's Liam Bass."

That made her freeze.

Slowly, she looked up.

"He's here?"

Her assistant nodded, wide-eyed.

"In the lobby. He said he doesn't need an appointment."

Of course he didn't.

Because Liam Bass didn't ask.

He arrived.

—

Avery's heart thudded, but she kept her voice cool.

"Send him up," she said calmly.

Inside, though, she was spiraling.

He was supposed to wait.

Let her come to him.

Instead, he'd just flipped the rules upside down.

—

Minutes later, her office door opened—and in walked Liam, calm and devastating in a navy suit, no tie, his black hair perfectly in place.

He moved like he owned the building.