The next morning, Jett woke up to a faint throbbing in his head from a mild hangover. He groaned tiredly and rolled over on his bed, pulling the comforter as high as he could manage to block out the morning light that was coming in through the massive windows on the other side of the room. Though it wasn’t the worst hangover he’d had by a longshot, the faint discomfort made him reluctant to get up. So, he closed his eyes, deciding there was no harm in sleeping in a little longer, but before he could drift off again, he remembered that he wasn’t in his own apartment in New York; he was in Malibu on the set of a TV show—and last night had been the debut. The thought made him cringe as he recalled how he’d gotten a bit more drunk than he’d intended to and had gotten pretty frisky with one of the girls on the cast. It definitely wasn’t the first impression he’d wanted to make, but at least he hadn’t woken up next to anyone. That had to count for something.

Deciding he didn’t want to lay around all day while the crew was probably filming again, Jett forced himself to get up from the comfortable bed and ambled tiredly to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He could still smell the alcohol on his own breath, so priority number one was getting rid of that with [i]a lot[/i] of toothpaste and mouthwash. Once he felt satisfied that he’d ridden himself of his bad breath, he finished off his other morning rituals—showering, shaving, a little bit of hair styling, the works—and went back to the bedroom to get dressed and properly put away all of the clothing and other things he’d brought with him from New York. He’d traveled fairly light, since he didn’t think he needed more than two weeks’ worth of clothes as long as there was a place to wash everything, so the process of putting it all away in the closet didn’t take him more than about fifteen minutes.

With that done, Jett finally made his way out the door to see what was left for breakfast. The time was nearing ten in the morning—he’d slept in later than usual because of how much he’d had to drink the night before—so he hoped there was still some hot food left. Of course, he knew the house he was staying in wasn’t a hotel, but he had a feeling that meals were going to be served like clockwork over the course of the show, so there was always a chance that he was the last to get up and would be stuck with the leftover fruits and oatmeal that no one else wanted to touch if he showed up too late. Right now, all he wanted was a hearty plate of sunny-side eggs and crispy bacon, so if he showed up to the kitchen greeted by a bowl of cantaloupe wedges, he was going to be severely disappointed.

However, to Jett’s surprise, there weren’t very many other people at the kitchen bar despite the late hour. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he only saw Adam—one of the non-celebrity guests that Bella had introduced him to the night before—standing at the edge of the bar with a pretty, dark-skinned woman he remembered seeing around the party but had yet to talk to. A short distance away from them was Anna. He wavered by the base of the stairs as his eyes landed on her. Even though he really hadn’t joined this show to meet any girls, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her, especially after the fun he’d had dancing with her the previous night. She was attractive, but she was also an intriguing person; one whom he wanted to get to know better while he had the chance.

[i]Well, now is as good a time as any, I guess,[/i] Jett decided, pushing his arms forward to stretch his back as he ambled into the kitchen area and slid into the open seat at the counter next to Anna. “What a night, huh?” he mused aloud, reaching for one of the laminated breakfast menus that were strewn about the counter and bar. It looked like the house was at least somewhat similar to the five-star hotels he’d stayed at in the past in the sense that the meal options were prepared the same way. He browsed the selection, pleased to see that everything he had a taste for that morning was on the list today, before gesturing to get the chef’s attention.

“Have you decided what you want, sir?” the woman asked politely.

“Yeah,” Jett nodded. “I’ll have the eggs sunny-side up with a side of bacon.” He paused, tapping his index finger on the granite countertop before adding: “I don’t suppose you serve mimosas, do you?”

“It’s not on the menu, but I could make one for you,” the chef answered accommodatingly.

“Perfect,” Jett grinned. “I’ll have that too then. Thank you.” While he didn’t normally like to day drink, he supposed there was no reason not to have one mimosa, since he was pretty much on vacation here anyway. It couldn’t hurt to indulge a little.

“I’ll have that right out for you,” the chef said before turning back to continue working on someone else’s breakfast.

With his order put in, Jett turned back to Anna, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin in his palm, “So, I noticed we’re neighbors. What do you think of that ocean view? Pretty nice, right?”