Silbie Luna just wanted to pass her classes and become the first undergrad co-captain for her derby team. She never thought shooting a promo for the athletic department would lead to a coveted role in a highly anticipated movie series. But not only...
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One Year Later
Silbie tried to hold on to sleep, but in spite of her best efforts, her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, then propped herself on her elbows and let her vision sweep the room. The lace dress crumpled in a heap on the floor. One satin slipper rested under the desk, while the other had landed near the window. The bridal bouquet perched on a pile of scripts.
The wedding had gone off without a hitch. No small feat since paparazzi had camped out for weeks waiting for the rumored event to happen. Silbie couldn't help but smile. Their dedication had been a waste of time. While they'd been waiting for a scoop on the big day, they'd missed the opportunity to cover two major Hollywood scandals.
Building a chapel on Dante's property had been a good decision. The structure, nestled under the cover of dense trees, made it impossible for cameras—even those mounted on drones. As guests left the church under a tented walkway and entered one of two gazebo canopies, the reception remained just as private.
With dining and dancing, it had been a night to remember.
Outside, the rumble of trucks sounded on the road. Soon, all signs of the celebration would be gone. Tables and chairs loaded. Tents dismantled and folded away until the next memory-making event.
Time to get back to reality. She flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling again. In three weeks, she'd return to Hollywood for the Oscars. Last year, she'd presented an award, this year, she might be receiving one—Best Actress for The French Mistress. Even if she didn't win, the nomination for that particular movie was doubly sweet. It had been her character, Simone DeRoux, who'd bewitched Owen in a dark hotel room and finally made him come to his senses.
With the way things were going, Silbie might have to resurrect Simone again to get what she wanted. Last night's discussion had not given her the results she'd hoped for.
Down the hall, the kitchen door slammed. Owen was back from his morning run.
Determined to continue their unfinished conversation, she'd have to ease into it. With Owen's PTSD, she'd learned a lot. She could only push him so far before anxiety set in. He'd improved so much during the last year, she had to keep reminding herself he'd never completely go back to the way he was when they first met.
"Hey, babe, you gonna sleep all day?"
His voice shook her thoughts away. "No. I'm about to get up. How was your run?"
"Good. A couple of Zach's friends went with me."
"Aren't they leaving today?"
He walked to the end of the bed, sat on the edge, and Dash joined him. "Yeah. All the guests will leave. The trucks are loading the rental stuff. A cleaning crew is at the chapel. By noon, all signs of the wedding will be gone."
