Three steps with her hand on Rico’s arm and Ashna knew he was in pain. His forearm was warm and ripped under the dark gray button-down he was wearing. No forearm on earth had any business being so . . . so . . . solid despite the pain his body was communicating. Thinking of him as solid made Ashna want to throw up.

Or burst into nervous laughter again.

The ironic consequence was that she involuntarily squeezed his arm. She felt him half turn toward her—the familiarity of his movements next to her only made the queasiness worse—and he put his hand on hers and squeezed back.

Really? Yeah, no!

She pulled her hand away, stepped under the too-bright spotlight, and smiled at China, focusing her attention on her friend to keep from having to process the combined attention of the cast, crew, and studio audience.

Next to her, Rico was having the exact opposite reaction. All the attention coming his way seemed to pump through him, inflating him into someone she didn’t recognize. He gave the cameras what everyone seemed to think was his most dazzling smile. Every single woman in the room let out a sigh, several hands pressed against heaving bosoms. Ashna scanned the crowd to make sure no outright swooning had taken place.

Ashna threw him a look. Was he seeing this? Did he not find it ridiculous?

Nope, he was soaking it up, reflecting it back. It wasn’t his usual loose-limbed confidence, but something more languidly in control, studiedly transparent. He was working the room and the cameras, and everyone stood there lapping it up in huge thirsty gulps.

The boy who hadn’t given two shits (his words, not hers) about what the world thought of him was now this . . . this slick charmer. If China hadn’t grinned at her like someone who had glimpsed heaven, Ashna wouldn’t have been able to keep herself from walking off the set.

The network had announced this week that China was the lead producer on the show. This was it, China’s dream. She cleared her throat into the mic and laughed.

“So, hey, hi!” China said, and applause and cheering erupted around her. Everyone was caught up in her excitement, softened as they were by Rico’s winks and grins. “Welcome!” China was in her element with a mic in her hand telling people what to do. No wonder she had endured the disappointment of her family by not working at the yoga studio. This is what she’d been born to do, and she’d always known it.

Her usual producer’s uniform, a jacket over a T-shirt and jeans, and sneakers, was new and extra spiffy today. She dropped a curtsy in response to the crowd’s appreciation and explained their agenda for the day. First, she would introduce everyone informally, and then DJ, their host, would do it for the cameras. Ashna looked around, but DJ wasn’t here yet.