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it earlier in the day. Tonight, he had the pleasure of seeing it through Nina’s wide eyes. She never held back, and he loved that about her.

A grand table was set for four. After a pleasant meal, Grace left them to talk business. Frank got straight to it.

“I’d like to talk about the script. It needs tightening up.”

“Let me guess,” Julian said. “The dialogue.”

“Bingo!” Frank said with a snap of his fingers. “That gives me such hope. I thought you were going to give me a hard time.”

“It’s too late for that. Nina beat you to the punch.”

Francisco turned to Nina. “You agree?”

“It needs some dusting up. Otherwise, it’s perfect.”

No…she was perfect. Her support meant even more to him than she could imagine.

“So, you’ve agreed to take on a rewrite?” Frank asked.

“Me? No!” Nina looked to Julian in panic. “I’m not a screenplay writer. You know that, right?”

“But you’re a writer,” Julian said.

“And a damn fine one,” Frank added.

“Yes, but—Thanks, but—No.”

Julian hoped she didn’t feel ambushed. That wasn’t his intention. He hadn’t thought the script needed any help, but he wasn’t so stubborn to refuse it. Why take their chances with a script doctor? Nina would be perfect for the job.

“Welcome to Hollywood,” Frank said to her. “Nobody knows anything and we’re all just winging it.”

Julian couldn’t dispute that. If he’d waited around for someone to proclaim him an actor, he would have never had the balls to audition for any role.

“I’ll give you my notes. How about that?”

Julian studied her for a while. She was blinking so fast, it was certainly to hold back tears. What could be holding her back? She’d claimed to be excited about the project. All at once, the pieces snapped together in Julian’s mind. Why would she want to work with him? She was a respected artist. His legacy was synonymous with mud. With that realization blooming inside him, he turned away from her.

“We’ll leave it at that,” Frank said. “You must be busy, working on other projects.”

“If you don’t mind,” Nina said, rising to her feet. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

Julian immediately stood to help her with her chair. She rested a hand on his arm and eased him back into his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

He watched her go. It took a while for him to notice that Frank was staring at him. “God help you, my man! You’re in love with that woman.”

“No way!” Julian protested. “We’ve only just met.”

“What difference does that make?” Frank asked.

Julian pushed away his dessert plate. “What’s going on with you and Grace? Is that love?”

“Maybe? Who knows?”

“You ought to.” Frank seemed to know enough to comment on his state of affairs. Shouldn’t he be more self-aware?

“Here’s what I know,” Frank said. “Do the work, find someone to clean up the script and I’ll direct. But I have one other request.”

Julian was at the edge of his seat. All this talk of love had derailed him. This was the conversation he wanted to have with Frank. “I’m listening.”

“You assist me in every way. When we wrap this thing up, I want you to have the tools and know-how to do this on your own. No more shopping around for someone to direct the thing that you’ve conceived in your imagination. I understand that you need a push, a pat on the back, someone to believe in you, and I’m willing to step into the role. And it’s exciting. I’ll admit it. But after this, I’m done. And you’ve got a career ahead of you. Comprende?”

“Understood!”

So this was what paying it forward looked and felt like? If so, he’d have to give it a go, because it felt damn good. He reached across the table and shook Frank’s hand. “Thanks, man. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Say you’re ready to get to work. I don’t believe in wasting time.”

Julian was more than ready. And all he had was time.

CHAPTER TEN

Nina locked herself in the ladies’ room. With the scent of lavender swirling in the air and a gold toilet, it was as good a place as any for a meltdown. She lowered the toilet seat and sat down.

Why had she turned down such an awesome opportunity? She loved the material and had great ideas on how to improve it. Julian was open to criticism, which meant he’d be easy enough to work with. Plus, he really needed the help. Over dinner, she’d noticed how nervous he was. Francisco’s opinion mattered to him. It wasn’t every day that she got the chance to collaborate with people so committed to their work. Lastly, she needed the work. Her inbox wasn’t exactly crammed with offers. What was holding her back?

Her agent was going to kill her if she ever found out.

“Nina? Are you in there?”

It was Julian. How long had she been spinning her wheels in this restroom? Long enough that Julian had had to lead a search party. She strained to make her voice chipper. “I’ll be right out!”

“What are you doing in there?” His voice was low and muffled, as if he were speaking into the thickness of the door.

“What do you think?” To make her point, she stood and flushed the toilet that didn’t need flushing.

“I don’t know,” Julian said. “My guess is that you’re breathing into a paper bag.”

Nina did not gratify him with a response. Having flushed, she made a production of washing her hands, splashing water.

His next guess wasn’t any better. “Crying into a towel?”

“Oh, God!”

She twisted the gold faucets shut, dried her hands and yanked open the bathroom door. Julian was leaning against the frame. His relaxed posture suggested that he would have waited there all night. And he was so handsome. All that muscle fitted in an immaculate suit. All that smooth brown skin, turned golden by his time in the sun. All the sparkle and intensity in those endless brown eyes. She could barely stand it.

“I’m not having a panic attack, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Good,” he said.

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