Free The Ex Factor by Cate Masters Page A

subject, Brett always factored into most conversations. Into too much of her life, really. Susan dubbed his unwanted influence on her existence The Ex Factor , and vowed to exterminate it once and for all.
    Tonight would be the beginning. Right this moment, in fact. Adios, asshole .
    “Give my best to Anita and the kids.” Her thumb pressed off without hesitation, and held it. The cell shut down with a whoosh, like a virtual toilet flushing away all the emotional baggage he’d attempted to dump on her. She wasn’t about to haul it around.
    Especially not tonight. How long had it been since she’d gotten excited about a date? A blind date—how perfect was that? With a real man, someone who had a regular job, who worked nine to five. Someone with logical expectations, not pumped up on melodrama and creative angst.
    Lauren’s a genius and a sweetie for helping me set this up . A true friend, worth her weight in gold in the entertainment business. Not naïve enough to think tonight would change her life, Susan still looked forward to the break from the manufactured madness the press generated, and a glimpse into the world she’d long ago left behind. Madame Eve promised to protect her true identity and afford her a night off the media radar.
    If she liked it, she might consider going back to life in the slow lane and leave all the glitter-caked crap behind.
    “Hope this dream doesn’t end up a nightmare, like my career.” She rose, the view of the valley beyond the wall of windows drawing her to it. So beautiful, but she’d grown tired of having abnormally massive amounts of stuff . Part of the package deal of superstardom and, sure, she’d dreamt of having a sprawling home on a secluded hilltop with stunning vistas. Great as it was, it lost meaning without someone to share it with.
    One way or the other, that would change.
     
    ***
     
    The driver’s door of the 1994 Jeep Cherokee opened with a creak. Jared Thornwell climbed in and gripped the steering wheel of the sole constant in his life for the past two decades. With the odometer creeping up on three hundred thousand miles, his colleagues razzed him about driving a junker when he could afford any vehicle on the planet. He good-naturedly shot them the single-digit salute.
    Until tonight, when he pictured Susan Ainsley in the passenger seat. Would she think him eccentric, or outright crazy? Maybe a tightwad.
    I’d give her anything she asked for . Christ, the danger of a woman like that, whose beauty haunted him like a specter in the night. An amazing, gorgeous specter who inflamed his senses with blind lust. The idea had nearly become his next movie project—a man driven to the heights of insanity for wanting such an unattainable star. Such an apt label for her: star. She was stellar in all respects—talented, intelligent, off-the-charts sexy with a sultry smile whose intense heat left him as parched and needy as a poor soul stranded in the desert.
    Why it had taken her so long to divorce Pasty Face Pratt, Jared chalked up to the business they both had the misfortune to love. Illogical, fed by masses of hysterical fans who ate up the hype like candy, the movie industry gave outlet to his own insatiable need to create unforgettable stories. On the downside, it also had a tendency to kill marriages, including his own. His sporadic dating had ceased two years ago when Susan and Brett divorced. At last, the opening he’d prayed for. His chance to make a play for her.
    Turned out to be a flop worse than The Adventures of Pluto Nash . Each time he tried to approach her, or call her, reality struck. You’re ten years older than she is. She likes young hunks whose charm’s as smooth as if it were scripted, not someone who holds a reputation for sarcasm, impatience, and disdain for unprofessionalism . She’d laugh away his offer, and he’d slink away in disgrace.
    “So why did I convince Madame Eve to set me up with her tonight?” With an incredulous laugh, he