Page 4 of Yours, Always
Prudence and Annabelle raised their coffee cups in a toast. “To The Moms!”
Prudence rolled her eyes and set her cup down. “Like Shirley and LuAnne would ever say no to a glass of white and swooning over Greyson for the evening.”
Annabelle smirked. “That and telling you how cute of a couple you and Grey make.”
Devlin pulled out a chair and sat. “You and Greyson Atwood? Tell me more.”
Prudence felt her face flush once again. She didn’t want to think about it. She’d put another padlock on that door. She had been thinking of Greyson more often lately, but she needed to keep that door closed. They were just friends—if she just kept reminding herself of that it would be true.
“There’s nothing to tell. We’re just friends. Besides, I’m dating Chuck,” Prudence stated, mentioning her boyfriend Chuck Charleson Jr., as Annabelle snickered into her coffee. “Knock it off, Annabelle. There’s nothing there.”
“Yeah, there’s nothing there like your feelings for Chuck, but we’ll save that conversation for another time.” Annabelle mercifully changed the subject. “Does six thirty work? I’ll host if you ladies bring the snacks.”
Chapter Three
True to his word, Bradford was able to get a lunch set up with Samantha. He said it was almost like her people had been anticipating his call and Greyson supposed they were. Since Nadia was the agent for both of them the lines of communication were probably opened long before Greyson had even heard her mention either the awards ceremony or the movie.
“Thanks so much for meeting me, Samantha.” Greyson pulled out the chair for her at Shay La Luna, Los Angeles’ newest sushi bar.
“Oh please, my friends call me Sam. This was a great idea.” She gracefully tucked herself into the chair. “It’ll be nice to get to know you before the awards show.”
“I agree.” Greyson smiled and opened his menu.
“If I’d known you were so desperate to meet me, I would’ve sent out my feelers long ago,” Samantha tittered and reached out a hand, pretending to claw Greyson.
Greyson laughed nervously and kept his eyes on the menu. “I’m not sure what I’ll get yet.” As oblivious as Samantha seemed, he didn’t think she would be offended if he got his meal to go, already sensing the direction of this lunch, and it was not going north.
He risked a glance over to Samantha who was engrossed in taking a selfie with her menu. He shrugged and took this as an opportunity to check out his surroundings. He liked the place. It was homey and cozy for L.A., a far cry from the trendy black and white hard edges of most places in the city. It was shrouded by tall bushes and a lattice fence that gave him the privacy he’d been hoping for while still being able to enjoy a meal outside. Glancing again toward Samantha, he took in her long blonde hair and tan complexion, and contemplated if it was the natural glow of the beach or a fake tan. He guessed the latter. It was almost too perfect—a bit orange if you asked him. She was thin, waifish and beautiful, but the city was filled with women just like her, with bottled hair and a bottled tan. Samantha was no Prudence, and he was thrilled to realize that this gentleman preferred redheads.
“Okay, I know what I want.” Samantha finally put away her phone. “You?”
“Yes, I know what I want,” he said and signaled to the waiter they were ready, gesturing to Samantha to order.
“I’ll have the grilled salmon salad, salmon on the side. Instead of house dressing”—Greyson rolled his eyes, wishing he could stealth call Prudence and set the phone on the table so she could hear this—“I would like a wedge of a lemon, on the side. No carrots. No arugula. I would like sparkling water, ice on the side.”
The waiter stood, quiet, waiting for her to continue, but she impatiently waved a hand toward Greyson. “Oh, of course. And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have the salmon and avocado roll, the tuna sashimi and whatever IPA is on tap.” Greyson handed back the menus.
The waiter looked relieved and nodded. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“So, tell me about you, Samantha,” Greyson inquired, ignoring her earlier comment about friends calling her ‘Sam’.
“Oh, there isn’t much to tell. I spend a few days a week doing hot yoga. I try to volunteer one day a week, usually at my hot yoga place. Then there are audition calls and weekly meetings with my agent, you know Nadia. I go to the spa as much as I can, it really relaxes me after my stressful days. I try to get a blowout at least twice a week, plus my nails break a lot, so I have to take care of those. I have to meet with my stylist all the time when any new collection comes out. If I don’t get the outfits first, someone else will…”
Yep, I should’ve had Prudence on speed dial for this one. His eyes widened as Samantha actually continued with her laundry list of things she did, and he assumed none of the things she did included doing the laundry. He sat there and listened, baffled by how someone could have so much to do, yet absolutely none of those things were of any importance.
Greyson chuckled when she finally took a breath. “You certainly keep busy. Where did you grow up?”
“Born and raised in L.A. My parents are Rand and Camille Sanders. Crane is my grandmother’s last name, so I took that as my stage name.”
The realization hit Greyson like a ton of bricks. This was Rand Sanders’ daughter, the studio executive that signed his paychecks. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place as to why Nadia was pushing Samantha at him so hard.
“How about you?” Samantha moved away from the subject of her parentage, obviously not wanting to discuss it. Maybe there was more substance to her than he thought, taking a different surname so she didn’t immediately have the name recognition of her father. It’s possible she was trying to move up in the business based on her own talent, despite what Bradford had said to him the other day, of Rand Sanders buying her way to the top. Although Bradford only said her father, he didn’t mention Rand by name. He decided not to push her on this subject, but she had to know her father essentially held Greyson’s career in his hands, so he let it go.
“I grew up in Amber Falls, Massachusetts. It’s a small town about two hours west of Boston, close to Amherst. That’s where I went to college.”
“Oh, I love getting to shoot in small towns. They’re so quaint and the locals just love me. You have to tell me more.”