Mitchell looked skeptical.
“We’ll buy area rugs,” I said. “I just want to see what they’re doing. Ten minutes, that’s all I want.”
He made a face with wide eyes, acting like this was all my idea and he hadn’t masterminded the whole thing and talked me into it. He opened the door.
We stepped through, and right onto the set. We were in the fancy ballroom, on the dance floor. Someone barked at us to get out of the shot. The set was enormous, and there must have been a hundred people in there, all working.
I saw my husband, Dalton Deangelo, less than twenty feet away. I froze on the spot. He was leaning forward so that a short makeup artist woman could powder his forehead with more of the pale makeup they use to make him look like a two-hundred-year-old immortal vampire.
He turned his face toward mine, our eyes met, and my blood ran cold. His green eyes were dark like coal, even under the bright studio lighting.
He looked away from me quickly, but in that instant, I knew he’d seen right through my disguise.
And I was absolutely sure he was livid.
My heart sunk, and a wave of nausea passed over me. Mitchell grabbed my arm and yanked me off the dance floor, out of the bright lighting.
We retreated to a dark corner like two cockroaches.
I stood there quietly, trying not to faint or throw up or die of embarrassment right on the spot.
A ringing bell went off, and a hush fell upon the ballroom as a hundred people stopped speaking or moving, all at once.
In the eerie silence, vampire Drake Cheshire came to life before the cameras. The shot involved him waltzing with a teen girl while alternating between being charming and being terrifying. I actually felt sorry for the poor girl. He can be so charming and terrifying when he’s playing Drake.
When the bell rang again to indicate that shot was finished, I gasped for oxygen. I’d been holding my breath the entire time.
Mitchell leaned over and whispered, “He’s such a professional. You know, I can’t objectify him like I used to, since we’re friends now and I’ve barbecued steaks with him, but when you see him acting like this, wow. That man is a magnificent beast.”
I murmured an agreement as I scanned the ballroom for security guards. Maybe it was just nerves from watching my husband act terrifying, but I felt jumpy. I spotted at least two security guards, but both male. There was no sign of the tough woman.
Mitchell saw me scanning and said, “Relax. We’re fine.”
“Dalton totally saw us. He recognized me, and he’s going to be so mad. We need to get out of here now.”
“But it hasn’t even been ten minutes. Don’t be silly. He didn’t see you. He’s over there talking to Connor, and he’s not even looking this way.”
“But he looked right at me. Right in the eyes. And he was so angry, he couldn’t stand to look at me another second.”
“He probably saw your sexy curves, and then looked away when he remembered he’s married, and only has eyes for his beautiful blonde.” Mitchell scanned the room. “Do you think they have coffee in here somewhere? I swear I smell coffee and chocolate.”
“Yeah, you do smell coffee and chocolate. It’s coming out of every pore in my body, because I’m sweating my peaches off right now.” I grabbed him by the arm. “No more joking around. We need to get out of here.”
From behind us came a stern female voice, “Yes, you do need to get out of here.”
We both turned around to find our least favorite security guard standing with her hands on her hips.
She was backed by two burly men, also in security guard uniforms.
6
After the security guards hauled us off, Mitchell and I sat in a small, gray room that looked exactly like a prison cell. There was a sink and toilet in the corner, without even a curtain for privacy.
There was no other furniture in the room, so we sat on the cold, concrete floor with our backs against the wall.
I rubbed my wrists. At least the woman had taken off the plastic cuffs before they tossed us in.
“They can’t hold us like this,” I told Mitchell. “This can’t be legal.”
“Don’t panic. I’m getting friendly with the cute security guard. The next time he comes in to check on us, I’ll turn on the charm, and we’ll be out in a jiffy.”
I groaned. “That’s what you said two hours ago.”
“And it would have worked, if you’d kept up the Ursula accent, but then you had to go and tell them you’re married to Drake Cheshire. The vampire. You actually told them you are Mrs. Vampire Drake Cheshire.”
“You know I meant to say Dalton, but I got mixed up.” I leaned forward and slapped my forehead repeatedly. “Oh, why did I have to leave my damn purse and ID and phone back in your car?”
Mitchell pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “Still no service, anyway.”
“But having my ID would have helped. They might have heard of the name Peaches Monroe, and they’d believe me if they saw some ID.” I slapped my forehead some more. “When my father finds out about this, he’ll laugh. When I was a kid, he always accused me of being ‘prone to whimsy.’ And here I am again. In trouble, as always.”
“Peaches, I like your father, but you’ve got to let go of that label he gave you. So what if you didn’t grow up to be an engineer like he wanted? You’ve got a line of underwear named after you. And you’re more fun than a dozen of anyone else.”
“I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.” In a quieter voice, I mumbled, “Even if you did mastermind the whole operation.”
He got to his feet and brushed the dust off his jeans.
“That’s enough pouting,” he said. “No more sad face. I’m getting us out of here. Give me a boost and I’ll climb out through the transom over the door.”
I stood and looked at the narrow opening above the locked door. It was the only way out of the windowless room, unless you were a dead goldfish going for your final swirl.
“I think I’ll fit,” he said.
We both stared at the tiny window. I certainly couldn’t have gotten through that squishy rectangle, but Mitchell is compact and has almost no booty at all.
“Let’s try,” I said glumly. “You should at least save yourself.”
“Don’t look so sad. I’m not leaving you, Peaches. I’ll unlock the door from the outside.”
“It sounded like they used a key to lock us up. We are in a prison cell, after all.”