The door of the luxurious hotel room in the heart of Manhattan opened with a soft click. Inside, the room was lit only by a dim corner lamp and the flickering lights of the skyscrapers beyond the massive glass window.
Julian sat on the leather sofa, still wearing his black shirt with the top buttons undone. In his hand was a glass of whiskey, the ice cubes completely melted. He did not turn when Scarlett entered.
"You came," Julian's voice was low, heavy, and carried a vibration that made the hairs on the back of Scarlett's neck stand on end.
Scarlett placed her bag on the console table with trembling hands. "Julian, I can explain. What happened on set earlier… it was all part of the script's demands. Sean deliberately provoked me so I would look confused in front of the camera."
