experimenting.”
There were throngs of people crowded into the roped off sections by the theater’s entrance. Cameras were clicking, flashes popping. It didn’t seem to matter to the crowd that the couple alighting from the limo weren’t recognizable faces. It was Hollywood. It was opening night. The glitz was peaking. A.J. and David were cheered and applauded. She blinked twice as three paparazzi held cameras in her face.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” he muttered as he steered her toward the entrance.
“It reminds me why I agent instead of perform.” In an instinctive defense she wasn’t even aware of, she turned away from the cameras. “Let’s find a dark corner.”
“I’m for that.”
She had to laugh. “You never give up.”
“A.J. A.J., darling! ”
Before she could react, she found herself crushed against a soft, generous bosom. “Merinda, how nice to see you.”
“Oh, I can’t tell you how thrilled I am you’re here.” Merinda MacBride, Hollywood’s current darling, drew her dramatically away. “A friendly face, you know. These things are such zoos.”
She glittered from head to foot, from the diamonds that hung at her ears to the sequined dress that appeared to have been painted on by a very appreciative artist. She sent A.J. a smile that would have melted chocolate at ten paces. “You look divine.”
“Thank you. You aren’t alone?”
“Oh, no. I’m with Brad….” After a moment’s hesitation, she smiled again. “Brad,” she repeated, as if she’d decided last names weren’t important. “He’s fetching me a drink.” Her gaze shifted and fastened on David. “You’re not alone, either.”
“Merinda MacBride, David Brady.”
“A pleasure.” He took her hand and, though she turned her knuckles up expectantly, didn’t bring it to his lips. “I’ve seen your work and admired it.”
“Why, thank you.” She studied, measured and rated him in a matter of seconds. “Are we mutual clients of A.J.’s?”
“David’s a producer.” A.J. watched Merinda’s baby-blue eyes sharpen. “Of documentaries,” she added, amused. “You might have seen some of his work on public television.”
“Of course.” She beamed at him, though she’d never watched public television in her life and had no intention of starting. “I desperately admire producers. Especially attractive ones.”
“I have a couple of scripts I think you’d be interested in,” A.J. put in to draw her off.
“Oh?” Instantly Merinda dropped the sex-bomb act. A. J. Fields didn’t recommend a script unless it had meat on it. “Have them sent over.”
“First thing Monday.”
“Well, I must find Brad before he forgets about me. David.” She gave him her patented smoldering look. Documentaries or not, he was a producer. And a very attractive one. “I hope we run into each other again. Ta, A.J.” She brushed cheeks. “Let’s do lunch.”
“Soon.”
David barely waited for her to walk out of earshot. “You deal with that all the time?”
“Ssh!”
“I mean all the time,” he continued, watching as Merinda’s tightly covered hips swished through the crowd. “Day after day. Why aren’t you crazy?”
“Merinda may be a bit overdramatic, but if you’ve seen any of her films, you’ll know just how talented she is.”
“The woman looked loaded with talent to me,” he began, but stopped to grin when A.J. scowled. “As an actress, ” he continued. “I thought she was exceptional in Only One Day. ”
A.J. couldn’t quite conquer the smile. She’d hustled for weeks to land Merinda that part. “So you have seen her films.”
“I don’t live in a cave. That film was the first one that didn’t—let’s say, focus on her anatomy.”
“It was the first one I represented her on.”
“She’s fortunate in her choice of agents.”
“Thank you, but it goes both ways. Merinda’s a very hot property.”
“If we’re going to make it through this evening, I’d better not touch
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