Read Online Hollywood on Tap by Avery Flynn - Free Book Online

cramped scrawl at the top of the page.
    Glancing down at Sean’s contact sheet, she memorized his address and then closed the manila folder, the sound amplified by the silence around her. Her pulse revved inside her like a race car waiting for the green light. Of course she wasn’t alone. Hailey didn’t usually leave until after six. Same with Clyde, who was determined to fix the fermentation tank tonight. Still, she knew Sean was gone, and despite the fact that she shouldn’t feel better when he was around—she did. Somehow he’d moved into a spot that she hadn’t realized was empty and filled it perfectly.
    With deliberate care, she ran her fingers across the pearl necklace’s smooth orbs, closed her eyes and breathed in a calming breath.
    After three ten–second inhales and exhales, she opened her eyes.
    Ignoring the apprehension buzzing quietly in her mind, she opened the desk’s bottom drawer and retrieved her purse. Crossing to the door, she made an extra effort to maintain her normal pace, and not one footstep faster.
    She wouldn’t fall prey to old habits. The amped–up breathing. The jittering that shook her inside and out. The tightness in her chest, squeezing her heart nearly in two. It had been too long, and she’d been doing so well.
    Stop acting so silly.
    Everything’s fine.
    However, as she strode down the hall, keeping a tight grip on her purse’s shoulder strap, the anxiety remained. It was weak and muffled, like a bee trapped under a glass dome, but still it fluttered in the pit of her stomach. It was only a quick five–minute drive to Sean’s house. All she had to do was get there.

Chapter Seven
    The smell of burnt popcorn overwhelmed every cubic inch of air in Sean’s kitchen and living room. While his converted firehouse home was drafty enough that a continuous breeze swept across the exposed brick walls and over the hardwood floors, it was no match for the stench.
    “Great,” he muttered to himself as he threw open the window over the sink.
    The night’s chill rushed in, freezing the hairs inside his nose, and he shoved the window closed again. As soon as he did, the stink hit him square in the face. He was weighing the benefits of freezing versus being a mouth–breather when the doorbell dinged.
    He whipped around and stared at the front door. She probably never burned popcorn. Hell, she probably hand–popped her own organic kernels in something vintage for the prescribed five–point–two minutes.
    Diiiiiiiiiing!
    Longer this time. As though she knew he was inside trying to stuff the last pair of dirty Jockey shorts under the bed. In reality, he’d rolled all the clothes from his floor into a ball and crammed them into the dryer fifteen minutes ago. God, he was pathetic. It was as if his life had turned into a chick flick and he was the permanently friend–zoned, no–nuts whiner character.
    Well, he hadn’t played that kind of guy when he was in Hollywood, and he sure wasn’t going to start now. Pulling his head out of his ass, he marched over to the front door and yanked it open.
    Natalie stood shivering in the soft glow of his front porch light, hopping from foot to foot. “Thank God, I thought you were ditching me again.”
    “Nope.” He stepped back so she could enter, feeling suddenly warmer despite the cold wind following her inside.
    “Wow. This is not what I expected.” She completed a full circle in the middle of his great room. “Not at all.”
    Sean looked around the converted firehouse, with its cavernous great room that flowed into the kitchen without any interior walls, and all he saw was work. He’d painstakingly finished the hardwood floors and filled in the brick’s mortar where time had chipped it away, but his mental to–do list went on for several pages.
    She brushed her palm across the uneven, exposed brick walls. “These are awesome.”
    Having seen her pristine, white, dirt–never–stood–a–chance office, he had a hard time believing