Starstruck: Hollywood Heat, Book 3 Read Online Free Page B

their final bows, before filing offstage.
    The clipboard-wielding stage manager came up behind her, whispered something and pointed at a table in the center of the room. Jenna nodded, and the man climbed on stage. “I’d like to welcome Ms. Marilyn Monroe back up here for one last special number.”
    Jenna climbed the steps, took the microphone and poured all her attention and voice on the lucky bastard the stage manager had pointed out to her. “Happy Birthday” had never sounded so sexy before, not even when Marilyn sang it to JFK. Micah would’ve given his left nut to be the birthday boy currently appreciating Jenna’s regard. With a final flourish, she ended the sexy serenading. The crowd clapped, and the men at birthday boy’s table whistled and cheered.
    The guy she’d been singing to met her at the stairs and held something out to her. Was that a phone number?
    Jenna thanked the man and accepted the item, and Micah felt like an ass. Unless the guy had scrawled his contact info across the currency, he’d only given her a tip, and a well-deserved one at that. With a final wave to her audience, Jenna disappeared behind a swinging door labeled Cast .
    Micah rubbed the back of his neck. He’d never been this upside-down over a woman before. Would he have gotten into a pissing contest with that man if he’d been giving her his number instead of a tip?
    Oh shit. A tip. Should he leave her money too? Would that seem sleazy, or would it look like he was just being polite, showing his appreciation for her performance? And if he was to tip her, how much? How could he put a dollar value on this without looking like he was trying to buy her?
    Maybe if all he’d wanted was a song from Marilyn…
    Maybe if he didn’t want that smile, that body, that spirited mind…
    Oh hell, this could get him in a world of trouble. If money exchanged hands, he needed to make damn sure no one thought he was paying for favors, or he’d end up plastered on the front page of TMZ’s website.
    But double hell, he knew how hard it was to make a living in Hollywood. He’d been blessed in that respect, but the majority of working actors didn’t make enough to survive on, and he doubted that Stars paid her much of a salary. What if tip money was the difference between homelessness and paying rent?
    When the stage manager walked by several minutes later, Micah got his attention.
    “Can I help you, sir?” the man asked.
    “I’d like to leave a tip for one of the performers.” That was simple enough, right? Straightforward. Not likely to be confused with trying to buy her time or affection. “Jen— Marilyn Monroe,” he confirmed.
    “Would you like me to call her back out here so you can give it to her—”
    “ No. ” He shook his head, as if the emphatic no hadn’t made it clear enough. Before the stage manager could offer up any other suggestions, Micah got to his feet, slid his wallet out of his back pocket and flipped through it until he found a hundred-dollar bill. “I’d like it to be anonymous. Can you make sure she gets this?”
    “Not a problem, sir.” The bill disappeared into the stage manager’s hand, and he turned away to continue on his rounds.
    Micah breathed a sigh of relief, which turned into a sigh of pleasure when Jenna pushed through the cast door. She was back in street clothes—a pair of black jeans and a purple T-shirt—and her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. The Marilyn stage makeup had been washed off, and she looked fresh-faced and absolutely beautiful. He wanted to take her home right now and spend the next several hours getting to know everything that made her light up with laughter, before discovering what made her light up with passion.
    When she saw him standing at his table waiting for her, her face brightened in the way that hit him in the solar plexus every time. Before she could walk toward him, the stage manager intercepted her.
    Oh no. No, no, no. The man handed Jenna the money that