“Stop that,” I yell-whispered at Theo for the second time in ten seconds. We were still standing in a corner of the room as everyone filed in. I was still reeling from Chase’s ambush. The guy had really brought his wife to a meeting. My meeting.

“Stop what?” the idiot next to me asked like he wasn’t sending murder looks in Chase’s directions.

“Stop glaring at him like you want to choke him out, that’s not helping.” All I got was a scoff.

“I don’t like that guy. He’s a sleazebag.”

“Pissing competitions are not how you win with a guy like Chase, Theo,” I muttered, then took a good look at him in his Prada loafers and hundred-thousand-dollar Rolex. “Or at least not for me, it isn’t.”

“I’m not going to put myself or you through an entire month of dealing with his shit.”

“But you’d have Kayla your number one fan on set all day?” I had no fucking idea where that even came from, but instead of shutting my reckless mouth, I proceeded to clutch a hand to my chest and fake swoon. “Are your arms sore?” I asked while he shot Chase more dirty looks. “She was kneading those things like a loaf of sourdough.” The moment I said that his expression changed. A wiseass grin replacing his murder face.

“Are you jealous, Alba de Los Angeles?” I did not need this shit right now. “If you want some of this you just have to say so.” He preened, the asshole preened.

Puffed out his chest and ran a hand over the sun-kissed waves of his hair. I knew he didn’t use any product in it and when he was done it looked rumpled in that effortless-but-still-hot way it always did. His shirt was open at the collar and the dip at this throat which I’d basically avoided looking at for the first year I worked for him was visible. I knew just below that there was an expanse of hard, caramel muscle. And though I absolutely did not want to touch any of it, the thought of Kayla putting her hands on him made me want to scratch her eyes out.

“You ever gotten dick punched, Theodoro Anibal?” I asked, which was a much healthier way to cope than to examine what had just gone through my head.

Again I’d misjudged Theo.

“If you want to touch it so bad, Alba Ofelia, you just have to say so.” His voice was pure sin, and though he was smiling I wasn’t so dumb to think this man was playing. I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I would do if ever got my hands on his balls but was interrupted with a reminder I was in a professional setting.