It was pointless to argue on principle that Riley didn't need a ride home when she obviously did—especially in the middle of a rainstorm. And with Ashe stubbornly refusing to get into the limousine unless she did, he left her with no choice. No point in being stubborn only to die from pneumonia as a result.

From what Riley gathered as she scrambled into the limousine in front of Ashe, the blonde woman's name was Collette, and right now she was not a happy camper as she sat across from Riley. Sitting right next to Riley, his dark hair miraculously still perfectly styled, Ashe offered her his jacket. Her shirt was drenched, and one could practically see right through her lace bra and even more.

As she allowed him to rest his jacket over her shoulders, she saw that he was just as soaked from the rain as she was, but as he raked his fingers through his dark hair, she had to admit that it suited him. Even his white shirt—or wet shirt at this point—revealed defined muscles along his chest and shoulders. If she looked lower, she was sure to see a six-pack, but Riley didn't risk it. She'd probably drool.

She should have just gone back into Lee's and waited till the rain stopped before hailing a cab. It would have been a much better fate than sitting opposite a seething blonde with daggers for eyes. Collette had a nasty habit of glaring at Riley and then at Ashe, her mouth set in a thin line on her face. Then she'd switch her gaze back to Riley and repeat the process all over again.

So Riley glared back. It wasn't her fault that Ashe had insisted he stand in the rain till she got into the limousine. But then Riley remembered that Collette was Ashe's manager, and he'd managed to slip from her grasp at the hotel. No wonder the poor woman was upset. Losing her client during a major press junket wouldn't have looked good on anyone's resumé. Riley would have been angry, too, if she'd been the one in charge of Ashe and he'd disappeared, refusing to return any of her calls because he was too busy slurping noodles in Chinatown.

So Riley turned her glare toward Ashe, hoping that someone would say something to break the icicles threatening to form inside the limo. Instead, Ashe was busy talking to the chauffeur about how the sudden rainstorm reminded him so much of London, oblivious of the two women glaring at him.

After some time, Collette turned her attention back to Riley, and this time, Riley looked back at her. She was probably in her mid-to-late forties, Riley thought, though she was a terrible judge of age so she stopped guessing. Besides, if Collette was in show business, she probably had an excellent cosmetic surgeon on speed-dial. But as Riley tried not to stare too obviously at Collette, she figured that the woman was under forty. Or fifty.

"Where to, miss?" The chauffeur asked and this time, Riley had no choice but to give the man her Upper West Side address, insisting that he drop her off at the corner. But Ashe told the driver to do no such thing, not in this downpour. He told the driver to drop her off in front of her apartment building and wait for him as he'd walk her to her door.

"You could have at least answered my calls, Ashe," Collette said at last. "Mr. Reign was furious that you were not at the dinner. And I mean furious. One minute you were there with everyone else, and the next, you were gone. Can you imagine the panic, Ashe? We thought someone had kidnapped you or worse—"

"I'm sorry, Collette," Ashe said in a reassuring tone. "I'll make sure to let Abe and the producers know that it was all my fault. I felt so cooped up that I simply had to get out for some fresh air. I've barely been back in action—"

"But you missed the meeting with the producers! We've only been planning this for six months, Ashe! Just because you wrote the damn screenplay doesn't mean you can simply skip out on important meetings like this! This is the second time they've tried to arrange a meeting with you, and then you end up missing it—again," Collette snapped though her voice softened. "At least the first time, it was a family emergency, and they understood well enough to give you a second chance - and even finance the movie without you being physically there."

Ashe's face grew somber then.

"Oh, and guess who was smart enough to show up at the dinner—even if he did run into a problem in that same elevator?" Collette continued, ignoring Ashe's expression. "It wouldn't surprise me if they'll be considering him for the role now. Isobel says that since you guys aren't getting back together, she'd rather work with someone who actually wants her around."

"That's Isobel's prerogative, Collette," Ashe said.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You may still be the frontrunner, Ashe, but Gareth turned on the charm tonight. He nailed that accent you've only been working for weeks to perfect!"

Riley stared at Collette. For a few seconds, she felt faint. Did Collette just say Gareth's name?

"Did someone get trapped in the elevator again?" she asked, doing her best to simply act concerned, and not looked panicked at all.

Collette shook her head. "No, not trapped. But someone left a can of pepper spray in there. It had no markings, and somehow, Gareth thought it was..." Her voice faded, and she shook her head. "He'd had a few drinks during the junket, so he was pretty toasted. He must have thought it was hairspray when he went down to the lobby to look for some girl. Not that he even needs hairspray, for God's sake. That's what hair and make-up people are for. What was he thinking?"

Collette groaned in frustration. "I swear, Ashe, you and Gareth sometimes—it's like herding cats. I don't know how you guys always manage to get into trouble every time you end up together. You're like children!"

"Did you say pepper spray?" Riley asked, though what she wanted to do was turn to Ashe and ask, so you know Gareth? and all the while wondering if she happened to say Gareth's name inside the elevator.

"Yes, I said pepper spray," Collette said.

Riley looked at Ashe, horrified though Collette didn't notice the glance that passed between them. Ashe was nonchalant as if hearing what happened to Gareth was amusing to him.

"Tonight's been a complete disaster," Collette grumbled, glaring at Ashe again. "And then you had to disappear like that with some girl. I tried to catch you, but you got into that cab before I could call you. You know you're not supposed to do that, Ashe, not when we're in the midst of this PR push. And now we've got pictures of you all over Twitter and Tumblr when you and I know how important it is that you'd be seen with only Isobel. I mean, any publicity is good publicity, but you know how I feel about things like this. You've got an image to project, Ashe. We've got to keep it up."

"Collette, Riley is not just some girl," Ashe said, his voice sounding like a caress. "I'm afraid I didn't introduce you two properly. This is Riley, by the way. She was trapped in the elevator with me, and I thought we'd celebrate our freedom with some dinner. Riley, this is Collette Williams. She's my manager—and a damn good one, too. I owe my Hollywood success to her."

"Damn straight, kid," Collette said as Riley held out her hand and both women shook hands. Collette's grip was brief and light as if she couldn't be bothered. She also seemed unaffected when Ashe turned on the charm full throttle, pointing a finger at him and waving it.

"And don't think you can pull your British charms on me, Ashe. You could, at least, have texted me about your plans. You could have brought her along with you to the dinner if you wanted to—though not looking like that. There is a dress code, after all," Collette said, casting Riley a disapproving look.

"This Gareth," Riley stammered. "Is he all right?"

"He's okay," Collette replied, her eyes narrowing as she eyed Riley. "The pepper spray was out of date, thank God, so it wasn't as effective as it would have been otherwise. He should have known better, anyway. And this better not leave this car—this thing with the pepper spray."

"I wonder who could have left the pepper spray in the elevator," Ashe mused as he leaned back against the seat, crossing his arms in front of him as he cast a playful glance toward Riley. "I do hope he's okay. We wouldn't want Gareth to lose his chance of getting the role and claim that someone sabotaged him now, would we?"

"I hope he's okay," Riley stammered. "I'd hate to think that he—"

"He'll be all right. It's not any worse than any of the pranks you both pulled on each other on set, from what I've heard," Collette said, shaking her head disapprovingly.

Ashe touched Riley's arm. "We should just count ourselves lucky that we didn't notice that pepper spray can when we were in there, shouldn't we? What if we'd ended up using it then? That would have been awful, having to deal with the effects of that chemical in such a small space."

Riley stared at him. Damn, but Ashe was good, so convincing. He even had Collette nodding her head and saying, "Well, I'm so glad it wasn't you, Ashe. Then I'd get into trouble with Mr. Reign. After all, you're big, kiddo. Huge! This movie is already impressing the critics—the critics, mind you! And there's no room for mistakes from here on, remember? Your dance card is full, darling. Just for the next 18 months, it's already so full. What did I tell you, huh? You're big, kid!"

The limousine double-parked in front of her building, and Riley quickly grabbed her purse and scooted toward the door. Ashe opened the door for her and got out first, unconcerned by the prospect of getting drenched all over again.

"Where the hell are you going now, Ashe?" Collette called after him as he followed Riley, stopping beneath the canopy in front of the building.

"Drive around and I'll come right back down," Ashe said, not waiting to hear Collette's objection as he followed Riley into the building.

Reluctant to get into another elevator just yet, Riley headed for the stairs. Her canvas shoes made squishy noises against the floor, but she didn't care. Ashe walked right behind her, though soon he was next to her on the stairs, and then ahead of her. By the time she reached the fifth floor she was out of breath, but Ashe seemed hardly affected by the workout.

"Show-off," she muttered as she made her way toward her apartment, fished out her key from her purse and unlocked her door. She deposited her bag on the floor before turning around to face Ashe, who remained outside in the hallway.

"Thanks for walking me to my door, even though you didn't need to," she said, handing him his jacket though she couldn't help but admire his toned physique through the soaked shirt that he wore.

"It was my pleasure," he said, draping the jacket over his arm. "I would have carried you up the stairs if you needed me to—"

"I did not need any help, thank you very much," she said indignantly, though Riley couldn't help but grin. He was despicably charming, and her own defenses were waning.

"You're right. You didn't need any help," he grinned.

"You better get back to your car. Collette will be calling you anytime now—" she said and as if on cue, his phone rang. "There you go. You're in trouble now."

Ashe shrugged. "I'm already in trouble so why not keep going?" He dug his hands into his trouser pockets to turn off the phone, grinning as he leaned against the doorframe. "But you're right. I better get back downstairs. Good night then, Just-Riley. I had a wonderful time tonight."

"Same here," Riley said. "Good luck with your career."

"Thank you," Ashe said. He walked toward the elevator though Riley could have sworn he was taking his time.

"Ashe, can I ask you something?" She asked just when he was about to press the elevator call button. He turned to face her.

"Anything."

"Could you please not tell anyone that you met me? Anyone in your circle, that is. I mean, you can tell them what happened to you, but just...just don't mention my name."

"I wasn't planning on broadcasting what happened tonight to anyone, Just-Riley," he said, frowning. "Besides, who do you know in my circle?"

When she didn't answer right away, Ashe walked back toward her apartment. His phone rang again and this time, he answered it, muttering that he was on his way down before hanging up.

"No one," Riley said, waving him away nervously. "Let's just say I'm in the Witless Protection Program and my whereabouts are top secret. Yup, that would be it."

But Ashe didn't smile at the joke. His eyes narrowed, and Riley's throat went dry. She saw his face go through a gamut of expressions, ending up with a look that told her he had just guessed whom she must have gone to see on the 38th floor. But then, maybe it was just her imagination. Guilt did that to people.

Riley cursed under her breath and slipped into her apartment just as Ashe's phone rang again the same time she shut the door. If he were smart, he'd be able to put two and two together, she thought as she rested her forehead against the door. And if she was lucky, Ashe wouldn't be that smart.

* * *

Ashe may not have been smart, but at least, he was thoughtful. The following morning, he sent her two dozen pink and yellow roses, along with a handwritten note.

Dearest Riley,

It's been a long time since someone made me really laugh and last night, you did just that. I'd almost forgotten how good it feels.

Yours, Ashe

P.S. I do not think you are a member of the Witless Protection Programme. However, there are a few in my circle I truly believe just may be its founding members.

Riley couldn't help but smile as she reread the note three more times before rushing out the door to start the afternoon shift at the Library Cafe, where she worked as assistant manager. Hours later, while there was a lull in the flow of customers, she slipped into the cramped back office and typed his name in the Search box.

His name was Ashe Hunter and as unassuming as he'd acted in front of her last night, he was a pretty big star, someone with a few movies under his belt, including one that, according to critics, was expected to be a blockbuster. Just as Collette had said inside the limousine, he was big.

That morning, someone had spotted him at JFK, took a picture and promptly posted it online. The accompanying article said that he was heading to London for the world premiere of his latest movie, Sentience, along with fellow actors Gareth Roman and Isobel Reign. After London, they would then embark on a weeklong four-city tour to promote the movie.

For the first time since they've broken up, Riley had no desire to look at Gareth's face. After a brief glance at Gareth and Isobel walking with their heads bowed low from the flashbulbs, Riley turned her attention to Ashe. He looked wonderful though slightly annoyed at someone taking his picture as he walked through the departure area, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a wheeled carry-on behind him. How he managed to look so dashing at six in the morning, wearing a denim shirt over a dark shirt and jeans with a scarf around his neck, Riley could only surmise it had to be due to genetics and perfect bone structure. She couldn't help but stare at him, and she found herself wishing she'd given him her phone number after all.

Still, she knew it had been the right thing to do—not giving away her number. Once the publicity tour was over, he'd have forgotten all about her. She'd just be another blip on the ongoing movie of his life, another dot on his radar. At least, she didn't fall into bed with him or anything, she thought wryly.

Then she found herself wondering if he had a girlfriend. Oh, stop it!

Riley tore her gaze from the screen, closed the Search window and returned to the counter where a customer was waiting for an order of a flat white. Life would go on, no matter what happened, she thought. Even Ashe Hunter would move on, barely remembering her by the time his publicity tour was over—if he'd even remember her at all.