He smirks. “Possibly.”
I don’t answer him right away, instead, I pull out my key and open my door. “Thanks again for a great night.” I glance over at him. If he thought he was getting a goodnight kiss, he’s sorely mistaken. I never kiss on the first date.
He looks like he wants to make a move, but he just nods at me and pushes off the wall. “I’ll text you,” he says with a smile.
“Night, Grady.”
“Night, Cinderella.” And with that, he walks back down the hall.
I shut my door and slide down it, letting my purse fall to the ground. I have no idea what just happened, but I’m pretty sure I’m going out again with Grady Daniels.
Chapter Eleven
Grady
I get in my car and drive back to my place. It’s not anything massive, just a little Spanish-style villa in Ocean Park, a few blocks from the beach. My mom wanted to buy me a place in Malibu, but I wanted my own house, one that I paid for myself. So, when we had our first platinum album, I used the money to buy this house. It’s small, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and almost no back yard, but it’s mine and I love it. It does have a little driveway with a small garage, which I love because I can secretly tinker with my car. Even my mom doesn’t know I still do that. Everyone thinks that when I left the racing world, I left cars behind forever. But how do you leave part of your soul behind? You can’t.
I pull up to my house, noticing my freshly manicured small yard. Muffin, my neighbors’ dog is barking excitedly and running along the fence to greet me. It’s a love-hate relationship that we have. My neighbors are older and have no kids, except Muffin the mini mutt who can be annoying to no end. Yet, somehow, she ended up loving me and weaseling me into loving her. She’s my pseudo-pet. I occasionally walk her and help her owners, Barb and Wayne Johnson, with cleaning up after her and bathing her. She’s a good dog; she just barks a ton.
“Hey, Muffin,” I call out and poke my hand through the fence to pet her. She whines, so I open the gate between our properties and pick her up. She licks my face and barks excitedly.
“That you, Grady?” Barb’s voice calls out from their veranda.
“Yep, it’s me.” Muffin snuggles up in my arms and I pet her back. “You’re up late, everything alright?”
“Yep. Just couldn’t sleep, so Muffin and I came back here to enjoy the night.”
“It’s a nice one. I think I’ll do the same.”
“You have a good evening, then, my dear,” she says from the shadows where I presume she sits in her oversized porch chair with giant flower-covered cushions.
“You too,” I reply as I set Muffin down. I hear Barb call to her as I close the gate and head inside.
I decide to grab a beer and sit on my front porch. Sometimes, when the wind is just right and it’s a quiet night, I can hear the ocean, but not tonight. I hear occasional cars honking and dogs barking. I have a ton of unread messages on my phone, but I just want a moment to myself.
I lean back and close my eyes. Emma is the first image to pop into my mind. The look on her face tonight when she saw the city, all lit up and sparkling before her. She looked like a child on Christmas Day. I don’t know why I let my guard down with her. I groan. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t have a girlfriend, especially right now, there’s too much shit going on.
My phone buzzes and it’s like the universe is calling my motherfucking bluff.
Emma: Thanks for tonight. I had a really good time.
I stare at her message. I contemplate saying some asshole comment like, I knew you would. But my fingers start tapping, and before my brain can catch up, I hit send.
Me: Me too. Want to explore another cool LA landmark with me?
Emma: LOL. Maybe.
Me: Maybe?
Emma: If you’re lucky.
I laugh at that remark. She’s trying to be a smartass, but she doesn’t know that I’m the king of smartasses.
Me: Oh, I’m lucky all right.
Emma: (eye-rolling emoji)
Me: (sticking-out-tongue emoji)
Emma: I’ll see if my calendar is free later this week. Have your girl call mine.
I laugh again.
Me: Will do. Wait. Does Cinderella have a secretary?
Emma: She’ll just steal her ugly stepsister’s. Oh, wait, is yours available? I should have asked first.
Me: Touché. I’ll be in touch.
Emma: Night.
Me: Study hard.
Emma: Always do.
Me: I do other things hard.
Emma: Goodnight, playboy.
Me: Night. (winking emoji)
I put down my phone and find myself grinning. I’m an idiot.
I walk back into my house and get ready for bed. As I’m pulling back my sheets, my phone buzzes again with an email.
I see who it’s from and I open it.
Mr. Daniels,
There is some additional information that you had requested. I was able to locate some of it. Attached is what I found.
Sincerely,
Derek Bowman
Private Investigator
I flop onto my bed and open the attachment. I haven’t dealt with the information from his last email yet. I frown when I reach the guy’s records. He had it rough. I toss my phone down on the bed. I don’t want to feel bad right now. I was on such a high after being with Emma tonight and now this bullshit. Rhett and Max were probably right. I should have never gone down this road. I should have never tried to find him.
Chapter Twelve
Emma
I’m still on my high from my awesome date when I decide to send Andy and Blythe emails the next day asking if they have time to grab lunch this week or next.
I have zero expectation that they will, but I’m still hopeful. Getting either one involved in my project could be life-changing for my documentary.
I grab coffee and head to campus early. I find a quiet corner and start working on my documentary notes. I send a few more emails to the contacts I already have lined up for interviews. If I can start filming in a few weeks, then I can stay on track as I hoped.
I’m typing away when my phone buzzes. I look down and grin.
Kate: You go on a date with a musician and you don’t text me afterward?
Me: What?
Kate: Dude (website link inserted)
I click on it and groan. There are photos of us at the sushi bar from last night with captions about Grady Daniels and a mystery girl spotted out in LA.
Me: FML
Kate: Sooo??
Me: It went well. I may have pegged him as an asshole at first, but Grady is…well, surprisingly cool and real.
Kate: So, how’s his (eggplant emoji)?
Me: Kate, seriously?
Kate: (shrugging emoji)
Me: A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.
Kate: Well, at least we don’t have to worry about that. So, slut, give me the deets!
Me: (middle-finger emoji)
Kate: Fine, but seriously, when you see the (eggplant emoji), I better hear about it.
Me: Gotta go, class.
Kate: Likely excuse…
I put my phone away and head to my class. I’m not as prepared as I should be because last night, I lay in bed daydreaming about Grady instead of finishing my reading. Maybe dating a guy while I’m studying for my master’s is a bad idea.