The girl looks annoyed at my presence and doesn’t lower her shirt right away. But Flynn handles it with grace. Grabbing a napkin from a nearby dispenser, he begins to scribble, asking the girl’s name. “Jenny,” she says. He writes her a quick note, complete with a few sketches of music notes, and signs his name.
His hand on the small of my back, he leads me away. “I hear the game starting. You ladies enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”
“Nicely done, Rockstar,” I bump shoulders with Flynn as we make our way back to our seats. “By the way, I think your girlfriend would have been okay with you signing some skin. It doesn’t seem so risqué since you’re dating four other women.”
Flynn stops and unexpectedly pulls me close to him. “That’s all for the show. But today, when it’s my choice, I’m here with you only.”
Our evening date is nothing like the way we spent our day. Gone is the casual, fun atmosphere as Flynn takes my hand to board the beautiful catamaran for a sunset cruise.
“You look beautiful. I can’t decide if I like you better in a Chargers t-shirt or a dress.” He looks me up and down approvingly.
“Thank you. You clean up pretty well, yourself.” His dress shirt and suit are both dark, but his tie is the perfect shade of pale blue to match the sparkle in his eyes. Even though he’s dressed more formally than this afternoon, there’s still an air of casualness about him. A laidback vibe that I can’t help but notice is so distinctly different than what Cooper Montgomery throws off. The way that man comes off is anything but causal. I feel guilty thinking of Cooper when Flynn has been nothing short of perfect today. In fact, I can’t seem to think of a single thing Flynn’s done to sour me to him since the day I met him.
We find a quiet spot on the bow and the catamaran sets sail. The uniformed waiter brings us drinks and hors d’oeuvres and quickly makes himself scarce. It’s almost easy to forget we’re being watched by the prying eye of a camera hidden somewhere discreet. The beautiful boat glides smoothly through the harbor, the front slicing tranquilly through gleaming waters as the sun begins to set in the distance.
“Come here.” Flynn wraps his arm around my shoulders and hauls me close against him. It’s nice. Peaceful almost. I really do enjoy his company. I lean back, allowing myself to relax as he locks both arms around me.
“I had a good time today,” he says, his chin resting on the top of my head.
“Me too,” I exhale.
“I always have a good time when I’m with you.”
“Me too.”
“Kate …”
I turn when he doesn’t say more. “I like you,” he rasps, meeting my gaze.
“I like you too.”
“A lot.”
Oh. I have no idea what to say. I really do like him. Sort of a lot too. But something keeps holding me back. Or more correctly, someone keeps holding me back. If Cooper Montgomery hadn’t barreled into my life, Flynn and I would most likely be in a very different place right now. I need to focus—keep the memory of the kiss we shared before I met Cooper in the forefront of my mind. It was nice. Passionate even. There was a spark, I know there was. I just need to get back to that place. Yet I tense up when he moves in closer.
“Is it the cameras?” he whispers in my ear.
I have no idea how to answer, so I tell him the truth. Well, mostly the truth. It was difficult for me to forget the cameras even before I met Cooper. “Maybe a little.”
A member of the Throb crew comes out from nowhere. “Sorry to interrupt, guys. But can you speak a little louder? We can’t pick up your voices out here too easily.”
Flynn sighs loudly. “Yeah. No problem.” He smiles and leans his forehead to mine, intentionally whispering to avoid the mics. “I get it. I like that you’re more comfortable when we’re alone. Real life won’t have cameras.” He kisses my cheek and his sweet smile turns flirty again. “Well, unless you want cameras. I’d be into that too if it’s just for our eyes.”
chapter twenty
Cooper
“Coop. You got a minute?” Miles pops his head into my office.
Not really. “Sure. What’s up Miles?”
“The ratings on Throb are climbing every week. Most reality TV shows drop as they go. We’re heading in the other direction.” He beams, but I stiffen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’s not here to only share good news.
“That’s great.” I wish the damn show would end already.
“The final four are going to be picked tomorrow night. I can’t wait to film the overnight dates.”
“What do you need, Miles?” Exasperation and anger shine through loud and clear.
“We rented a wing of the Four Seasons in Barbados to shoot the overnight date shows in. But it’s expensive. Between putting up the crew and closing off a section of the hotel to shoot for two weeks, it will eat away at a lot of cash. Cash that can be better used for more advertising.”
“So you want another loan?”
“No. I was hoping to use the house in Barbados to shoot.”
“My house?” Yeah. I’d like nothing better than to have Kate fuck Dickhead in my bedroom. Awesome idea. “I don’t think so, Miles.” The house was our father’s; I bought Miles out when we settled the estate. “Do you want to shoot them fucking in our father’s room?”
Miles shoves his hands in his pocket nervously. At least he has the decency to look embarrassed for asking. “What about if the crew stayed in the main house? And the contestant stayed in the guesthouse. Alone. We can keep the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons and shoot there, but at least it would save me a fortune putting everyone up.” He pauses for a moment. “Dad used to give the keys to the crew sometimes after they worked hard on a film, as a bonus. I don’t think he’d mind the crew staying there.”
“I don’t know, Miles, let me think about it.” How the hell did I get so involved in his crap?
“That’s great.” He perks up and smiles like I’ve just agreed to something.
“Don’t look so happy, I didn’t say yes yet.”
“No, but you will.”
“I have a meeting.”
“Thanks, Coop. I have to cancel the hotel by tomorrow … if you could let me know by then.” Miles walks toward the door and looks back. “Oh. I almost forgot.” He reaches inside his suit jacket pocket and pulls out a DVD. “Today’s daily. The last one-on-one date. Women are going to eat this shit up. He actually sings to his date under the moonlight in the back of a catamaran.”
“Who was his date?”
“Kate.”
The contents of the large envelope I finally tore open are scattered all over my desk. I’d hired Damian Fry to dig up dirt on Kate right after she told me she was doing the show because she needed the prize money. The envelope arrived the morning after we’d spent the night together. But by then, I’d flip-flopped back and forth a million times between needing to know and feeling like I was invading her privacy reading through what she was obviously not ready to tell me. Forcing myself to ignore the report, I’d shoved it into the back of my drawer, unopened. Until an hour ago.
The visual Miles left me of Kate and Dickhead under the moonlight this morning has left me unable to focus. Again. Everyone has some skeletons in their closet—I needed to harden my heart by learning Kate’s. I thought whatever was inside the envelope might help me.
I stare at the mess of papers—the dirt Damian Fry dug up on Kate. Well, not really on Kate—she’s squeaky clean. Which is actually pretty amazing considering the man she was raised by. It’s her father who got her into the mess she’s in today. Leaving her sick mother with enough debt to drown her. And her brother. Damn it. I’ll never be able to think straight in a day full of jam-packed meetings.