“Can they cancel the show?”
“They won’t. They’ve given us a primetime slot and invested a lot of their own money in Homewreckers. They’ve already begun promoting it on the network.”
“I just don’t get it,” Hattie said. “It’s horrible. Who would do this to me?”
Ribsy whimpered, jumped up on the sofa, and started licking his mistress’s arm in consolation.
Mo patted her back awkwardly. “I know this sounds sick, but even bad publicity is good publicity as far as the network is concerned.”
“It is sick,” Hattie said. “I’m going to quit the show. None of this is worth it. Let Trae finish the house. Maybe then we can sell it, and I can give you and the network what you’ve invested in it.”
“Don’t do that,” Mo said sharply. “I know you’re upset, but listen to me. If you quit Homewreckers, people will believe you have something to be ashamed of. I don’t give a flying fuck about the show or the network. But I do care about you.”
“You do?” She searched his face for confirmation. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said softly, his lips grazing hers. “I really do.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Hattie said.
“I was trying to avoid that whole casting couch thing. Falling for your leading lady? It’s such a showbiz cliché. And it seldom works out in the long run.”
“I don’t know,” Hattie mused. “What about Tracy and Hepburn?”
“There’s that,” Mo said, kissing her deeply this time. “And also Bogie and Bacall.”
“Mmmm, my fave,” Hattie said, kissing him back.
She pulled away for a moment. “You know, the other night when you brought me home? Just before you left, I could swear you kissed me.…”
“Because you told me to,” Mo said.
“Me?” She looked perplexed. “I was so out of it, I wasn’t sure I didn’t just dream it.”
“I distinctly heard you tell me to kiss you, so I did.”
He kissed her again. “Did you want it to be a dream?”
“No,” she admitted, tracing the stubble on his jaw. “I wanted it to be real. And I wanted there to be more.”
She placed her hands on either side of Mo’s face. “You’re a really good guy, aren’t you?”
“I try.”
She kissed him deeply, then stood, holding out her hand to him. “Come on, then. If we’re going to do this, I want to do it in my nice, cushy bed instead of this lumpy old sofa.”
Mo’s face lit up. “Are we going to do it? In your bedroom?”
Hattie smiled and tugged him to his feet. “Much better than a casting couch, don’t you think?”
Ribsy scrambled off the sofa and followed them to the bedroom door. Hattie bent down and scratched the dog’s neck. “Sorry, kid. It’s grown-up time.” She gently closed the door.
* * *
“Hattie?”
Mo placed his lips near her ear. After they’d made love, she’d promptly fallen asleep, snuggled in his arms. She smelled like that pink baby lotion his little nieces liked to slather on themselves after a bath, but on Hattie, it was sexy as hell.
“Hmm?” She stirred slightly.
“Your phone. I can hear it buzzing in the other room.”
Her head was on his chest, and he stroked her bare shoulder. This was nice. He’d forgotten what it was like to be with a woman who cuddled after lovemaking.
“What time is it? Morning?”
He reached for his own phone, on the nightstand, and chuckled. “It’s not even eleven.”
She yawned and stretched. “Is that all?”
“I think I tired you out.”
She raised her head and grinned at him. “We tired each other out. But in a good way. Right?”
He kissed her. “Very good. Do you need to answer your phone?”
“I guess.” She sighed and sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. “Clothes. I know I was wearing clothes when we came in here.”
Mo felt around on the floor beside the bed and came up with his own polo shirt, which he handed to Hattie. “Be my guest.”
She pulled the shirt over her head and padded over to the door. Ribsy came bounding into the room and leaped onto the bed. He planted his head on Mo’s chest in the exact spot Hattie had just vacated.
“I think he’s jealous,” Hattie said.