“Excuse me.” She walked up to one of the male servers carrying a tray of champagne. She couldn’t help but notice his well-muscled back. She didn’t know backs were a thing for her, but this guy had one, and it was attractive. Focus, you need to focus. “May I have one of those?”

“Ma’am.” The server turned around.

Anna’s chest tightened.

John looked as good with his shirt off as he did with it on. His dark-brown eyes were as attractive as his back. They were also more memorable, especially as they took in the sight of her. She wished desperately that she hadn’t run into him here. If only she were wearing torn jeans and her scuffed jacket. If only she didn’t resemble an agent’s first ex-wife, which was exactly what she was.

#

JOHN SWORE HE WOULD not let Clara get the best of him, but she always did, and he should’ve known.

“I told you,” Clara called out.

John had taken off his clothes in one of the changing rooms hastily put up beside the industrial kitchen. Cooks and servers rushed about with ruthless efficiency as they prepared food and drinks for the guests in the ballroom. John pushed the curtain aside and stepped out dressed in the ridiculous spandex pants. They were a red-white-and-blue horror.

“I’m getting you back for this.”

Clara didn’t bother to hide her laughter.

He hadn’t expected the night to be this bad, though.

John had never thought he would run into Anna here. This party was everything she had espoused to hate in the industry: wealthy executives, films with massive budgets, and superheroes.

“Wait a minute.” Anna narrowed her eyes.

John took in Anna’s changed appearance. She wore a skintight black dress, low cut and short. She had looked good in her jeans and T-shirt, but she looked good in this too. Admittedly, she also looked like she might go to the mattresses if a competing family invaded her territory, but she didn’t look bad, not at all.

“Did you just ‘ma’am’ me?” She closed her eyes. “Again?”

He swallowed the quick retort on the tip of his tongue. He needed this job, and he didn’t want to get Clara in trouble. Anna wanted to complain about him being polite when he was just doing his job?

He smiled his best customer-service smile and swallowed his pride. “Can I help you?”

Anna stood straighter. “I was going to ask you for a drink, but I don’t want to disturb you.”

“Well, it’s an open bar, so—”

“Listen—”