Impossible Glamour by Maggie Marr Page A

My body fit against his bare skin. Those thick lips. Lips that I’d kissed. A memory of heat sliding over heat and his tongue tangling with mine flew through my mind. My sex tingled and my tongue trailed over my bottom lip.
    He dropped his arm and backed away from me. “Don’t let these people know you’re a Legend. They’ll be all over you.” His eyes trailed toward the two stragglers that sat poolside in the setting sun.
    “Your agency represents my entire family—what could they possibly want from me?”
    “Access. Make nicey with you and then make nicey with the famous people in your fam.”
    “Not my first rodeo, Webber. Fully aware of how these games work. Why do you think I have so few friends?” My heart lurched. Not really something I liked to admit. Truth hurt sometimes, even for a girl who cultivated invisibility.
    “Hard for you not to be noticed with that face you got going.”
    “Because I look just like Sophia?”
    “No,” Webber said and his gaze dropped to my mouth. “Because you look like Ellen Legend, and she’s a damn fine-looking woman.”
    Breathless and speechless. Webber had made me completely unable to utter words. Who knew? I certainly hadn’t. He raked his fingers through his wet hair. “Okay. So I have to motor, have this thing…uh…that I need to go to. Maybe I’ll see you before we leave.”
    I nodded. Maybe. Hopefully. Damn, what was I thinking… No, no, absolutely no. I didn’t want to see Webber. While the rational portion of my brain understood the impossibility of a Webber rendezvous, the rest of my body, including my tingling girl parts, didn’t seem to want to follow along with logic. Webber grabbed two towels. He handed me one and pulled the other around his waist.
    Damn. Webber was fine. His body was cut and just exactly what I liked. Lean and mean and well maintained. I wrapped the plush cotton around my body, and for the first time in my life, I actually wished I’d worn a bikini.
    We stood there beside the pool in the setting sun, both of us looking at the other. Why? Because I felt like I was seeing Webber for the first time. The guy I’d known for a couple of years as an obnoxious agent was actually funny and way too sexy for my own good. His smart mouth didn’t utter any smart-ass words. I pressed my fingers to my hair.
    “Well,” I said and broke the spell. “I should go. I mean, you have your thing.”
    “I do.” Webber’s gaze followed my fingers through my hair. Then his eyes caressed my face. A long, lingering look, his usual playfulness replaced by a hot intensity.
    I nearly stepped back again but didn’t want to tumble into the pool. Instead, he took two steps back, turned, and let me walk by.
    “See you, Webber,” I called and walked to my chair to grab my bag.
    Instead of a smart-ass comment about the Webzie always being around, he simply nodded and never once smiled as I turned to walk away.

 
Chapter 9
     
    Webber
     
    My heart wasn’t in the bar scene. Two of my CTA compatriots had convinced me to hit the Santa Barbara nightlife. We’d fled the resort for a wine bar downtown. Sure, I walked the walk and talked the talk, slinging bullshit with the fellas like the best of them, but my heart wasn’t in the outing. I slipped my phone from my pants pocket and checked the ringer for the third time, hopeful that a Legend had called me.
    “What’s up, Webber?” Matt asked. A lit agent who specialized in Oscar-winning screenwriters, he was tall and athletic, a little too tan even for SoCal, and looked like he should be a golf cart jockey in the OC. “You got a hot date?”
    “Not tonight, from what I hear,” Joel said. Wider and stocky, Joel had been a Marine for four years before heading to college. Blond and blue-eyed, he looked like your typical all-American. “You’re not getting ridden until tomorrow night, right?”
    “What the fuck man? Ridden?”
    “Isn’t that when your sit-down with Selena is? Tomorrow? Late-night