Free Catch a Falling Star (Second Chances Book 3) by Merry Farmer Page B

willing to bankroll this little musical of yours.”
    Ben narrowed his eyes, caught between relief and resentment over the condescension in Jett’s voice. Not to mention the sly, knowing look Ashton wore as he crossed his legs and listened in.
    “Go on,” Ben prompted him.
    The twins exchanged looks, then Jett said, “We want to write a book.”
    The statement came from so far out of left field—and skated so close to the kinds of things he and Jo had talked about in their whirlwind romance—that Ben was knocked totally off-kilter.
    “A book?”
    “Yes,” Ashton said, his eyes alight with a glow that could only be described as infernal.
    Jett leaned across the table to Ben again. “Can you imagine how many copies a scintillating tell-all of Broadway’s underbelly would sell? They’ll be lining up to read all about who’s sleeping with who, what little perversions are going on in the minds of the bright and shiny.”
    Ben didn’t think it was possible for his stomach to sink more, but there it was, somewhere down by the subway. “I don’t know anything,” he said.
    “Liar.” Ashton winked.
    “I don’t.”
    “Of course you do,” Jett murmured. “You don’t sleep with half the female population of Broadway and not have stories to tell.”
    “I didn’t—” He let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t have anything for you.”
    Jett shrugged and sat straighter. “Then we don’t have anything for you.”
    “Money, that is.” Ashton added the obvious.
    Ben drew in a long, shaky breath, wiping a hand over his face. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way he was being backed into a seedy little corner by two men he’d thought were friends. He was an award-winning director, dammit. He had a place in this community, a good place. This was his life they were messing with.
    A buzz from his coat pocket caused him to flinch.
    “Do you need to get that?” Jett asked.
    Instinct told Ben to say no, to fight the battle in front of him. It was a battle for his career, his life. He would not let these two hypocrites tear down his life’s work or turn it into something sordid.
    “Let me check,” he said instead, reaching for his phone.
    “ Stopped at a rest stop. Did you make it to your meeting on time ?”
    Ben’s heart burst into something resembling warm, sentimental, inconvenient goo at the sight of Jo’s words. But dammit, he needed the reminder that there was something good and artless in the world right then.
    “ Mostly .” He typed a quick reply. “ Not going well. Déjà vu, right ?”
    “Something we need to know about?” Ashton arched an eyebrow as if he had the stink of gossip in his nose.
    “Business,” Ben said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He cleared his throat, then stared Jett down. “I have nothing for you. No gossip, no stories, no headlines.”
    “You have none or you’re not willing to kiss and tell?” Ashton asked.
    “Same thing,” Ben replied. He may not be perfect, but he wasn’t a complete ass. Or a complete idiot.
    “So you do know things,” Jett said. It wasn’t a question.
    Ben kept his lips shut. His phone buzzed. He resisted the urge to snatch it up. At the same time, that one little buzz gave him courage. Jo would be proud of him taking the moral high ground for once.
    Wrong thought, right time.
    Jett let out a breath, the frivolous fairy persona returning. “Well, if you won’t play with us, then we see no reason to continue to play with you.”
    “Speak for yourself,” Ashton added, watching Ben and biting his knuckle. “I could play with him all day.”
    “Oh, come off it, Ashton.” Ben reached the end of his patience. “Everybody knows you’ve got a buxom, Latino mistress and two children living in Connecticut. And that you spent a week at the Playboy Mansion last year,” he added for Jett.
    Ashton paled, but a wide grin spread across Jett’s painted face. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Give us more dirt like that