by Tara Wyatt
She shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. “You done?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “How would you feel if you knew that people were posting private details of your personal life online?”
“You’re right. It’s shitty. But it’s a risk you take when you’re a celebrity and you sleep around.”
He snorted, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes. “Thanks for the sympathy.”
She leveled her gaze at him, completely composed. “I’m not here to kiss your boo-boos, Beau. I’m here to make you millions of dollars.”
He sighed. She was right. It wasn’t her job to coddle him, and he didn’t want to be coddled. “Okay, so option one is live like a monk, which isn’t sounding so bad right about now. What’s option two?”
Aerin grinned, her shark-like expression making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It was the expression that told him she thought she’d come up with a genius idea that he was going to hate, and she was going to make him do it anyway.
“Simple: you get a girlfriend.”
He barked out a surprised laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, no. That’s not on the table. I don’t do relationships. I don’t date. And I’m not going to lead someone on for the sake of the media or my reputation or whatever. Even I’m not that big of an asshole.”
“But what if you weren’t leading her on? What if you were both on the same page?”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what page would that be?”
She shrugged. “All everyone needs to think is that you have a serious girlfriend. Doesn’t mean it has to be real.”
“So you’re suggesting I get a fake girlfriend in order to get the media off my back and fix my reputation? How is that better than just living like a monk? If it’s a fake thing, it’s not like I’d be having sex anyway.”
“Sticking to the straight and narrow is good. Fine. But proactively taking steps to fix your reputation and steer the ship in a new direction is even better.” She shrugged. “It happens all the time in Hollywood. A little show-mance can do wonders for someone’s career.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know anyone who’d be willing to help me pull off that kind of stunt, so the point’s moot.”
She shrugged. “Then I guess we’ll be going with option one.”
Relief trickled through him. “Fine by me. That all?”
Aerin nodded. “Just…behave. Please. You’re killing it on the field. Don’t let this derail what will be the biggest contract of your career, okay? And think about what I said. Living like a monk is fine, it’s safe, but if you really want to turn your reputation around, you might want to consider making it seem as though you’re taken and smitten and finally settling down. It would really improve your image.”
“I’m not some Hollywood monkey, Aerin. I’m not going to pretend to have a girlfriend.”
“Fine. I’ll leave the choice up to you—for now. But if I see your name even once on a new post on those message boards, I’ll hire an actress to be your girlfriend whether you like it or not. This is my career and reputation, too.”
“No problem. Learning about those message boards, I’ve sort of lost my appetite, anyway. For the time being, just call me Friar Tuck.”
Her phone started to ring from where she’d set it on Javi’s desk and she glanced down at the screen. “I’ve got to take this. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
He nodded and stood, unable to untangle his emotions, and they all sat snarled together, a dense knot right in the center of his chest. Shame and self-loathing. Frustration and disappointment. Humiliation. Desperation.
He turned and left the office, closing the door behind him to give Aerin privacy for her phone call. He started to move toward his cubby and nearly collided head on with Piper, who was emerging from Abby’s office several feet away, her lips in a perfect little ‘o,’ her cheeks bright pink. For a moment, their eyes locked, and her blush deepened.
So much for avoiding her today. Shit.
“Oh, uh, hey,” said Piper a little too loudly, swiping her palms over her black leggings, her heart racing as she stared at Beau, her mind whirling with everything she’d just accidentally overheard. “Hey. Um. You…” She trailed off at the expression on his face, a mixture of disappointment, surprise, and frustration. All of his usual teasing humor and easy flirtiness were missing.
Sucking in a deep breath, she started over, jerking a thumb in the direction of Abby’s office. “I stepped in there to check my messages before heading out, and I’m really sorry, but I overheard. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
He blinked at her, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s fine. Nothing you didn’t already know, I’m sure.” He turned and headed to his cubby, rummaging around on a shelf. His movements were sharp and jerky, so different from his usual relaxed, confident way of moving.
He was rattled. And probably embarrassed. And probably a whole slew of other things she couldn’t even imagine. She glanced at the door, sensing that he wanted space. To be left alone to wallow and deal with the bad news his agent had just given him. To digest the information that his sexual habits were internet gossip.
She turned to go and then turned back. She couldn’t just leave him like this. It felt wrong. They weren’t anything to each other, barely even friends, but he was another human being, and she had the feeling he could use a shoulder and maybe and ear right now.
Tentatively, she crossed the distance between them and laid a hand on his back. “You want to talk about it?” she asked quietly. His movements stilled and he glanced at her over his shoulder, not saying anything. She flexed her fingers into him and then dropped her hand. “I can’t even imagine how shitty it would be to have people posting about my private life online like that. And to be blindsided with it while getting other bad news…I’m sorry, Beau. That’s really rough.”
The tiniest smile pulled up the corner of his mouth. “No one to blame but myself. It’s okay, Piper. I’m a big boy. I’m fine.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “I—I meant it the other day, when I said that I liked you. I’d like to think that we’re friends. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
He turned, leaning against his cubby, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. “I appreciate that.” He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t turn away, either. She got the distinct impression that Beau wasn’t in the habit of asking for comfort from people. Maybe because he didn’t have many people he could truly lean on, and just that thought made her sad. Made her want to be someone for him. She didn’t know if it was because of her crush on him, or because she knew how hard it could be to live your life online, but she felt the need to connect with him.
“I just…I can tell you’re upset, and I wish there were something I could do.” She hated to see someone hurting, especially someone she genuinely liked. Sure, the situation was of his own making, but that didn’t mean it felt any less shitty to him. Plus, she knew firsthand just how toxic the internet could be. She regularly got disgusting comments and messages from dudes. She’d even had to close down her Instagram DMs for a while, it had gotten so bad. She sighed and laid a hand on his arm. “I know how brutal stuff on the internet can be. People will say all kinds of horrible things from behind the anonymity of a keyboard.”
He snorted. “And now I need to go look up all this shit, see if it’s even accurate or true. If it’s not, I’ll need to decide if I’m calling my lawyer. Fun times ahead for me.”
“I’m sorry. Do you want me to—I could help, and go through some of it—”
“No!” He cleared his throat. “No. Thanks, but, uh. No. It’s okay. I’ve got it.” Suddenly, he cocked his head to the side, his green eyes intent on her. His expression had changed, shifting from tired and defeated to curiously alert. “Actually, there is something you could do.”
“What?”
He tipped his head in the direction of Javi’s office, where Aerin was still on the phone. “Pretend to be my gi
rlfriend.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, no. I don’t think so.” Her laughter faltered when she realized that he was serious.
“Why not?”
“Because…” She shook her head, trying to sort her thoughts out. “Because I don’t have time, for one. And because…” Because I don’t trust myself around you and I’m scared I’ll wind up with a broken heart. “Because you yourself said you’re not some Hollywood monkey who plays games with the media.”
“I thought you wanted to help me.” He leaned in a bit closer, her stomach swirling as his scent hit her nostrils. It was a combination of woodsy aftershave and warm skin that always made butterflies spring to life in her stomach. “This isn’t me trying to trick you into going out with me, for what it’s worth. You asked how you could help—this is what I’ve got.”
She shook her head, feeling half-crazed with the urge to say yes. “I don’t know. I’m not an actress or whatever. Although…” She tapped a finger against her lips as her thoughts started to become clearer. “You have been hitting on me for months, so me finally caving and saying yes would be believable.”
His mouth dropped open and she saw a spark of that trademark humor flashing in his eyes. “Excuse me, but I have not been hitting on you for months.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Right.”
“What? Not my fault you can’t tell the difference between friendly conversation and a come on.”
She shoved him gently, and he laughed. “You’re kind of an idiot, you know that?”
“One of the few things I do know.”
She took a deep breath, her fingers twisting together. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. I work for the team, sort of. My schedule is already crazy. I…lines might get blurry, and I’m just not…” She bit her lip. She couldn’t do this. The idea of letting herself get close to Beau, fake relationship or not, was too risky. She had to focus everything she had on her career, her business.
But then, he went for her Achilles heel.
“I could pay you,” he said with a shrug. “Make it worth your time. Then we’d both be getting something out of it. You’d be saving my reputation at a crucial time, and you’d get a paycheck out of it.”
Everything inside her went still as she processed what Beau had just offered her. “How…how much?”
“What do you want?” He said it as though money were no object, and given that he made eight million dollars a season, Piper was willing to bet that it wasn’t.
She took a deep breath, diving in feet first. “So…I’m trying to get this business off the ground. It’s an extension of what I’m already doing, but I need to have a custom app designed. The idea is that people could subscribe to get tailor-made workouts and meal plans. There’d be a store with workout equipment and merchandise. I want to create an online community, where we can run challenges and everyone can support each other. I know there are other things like that out there, but mine would be as affordable as possible, as accessible as possible. The emphasis wouldn’t be on weight loss or being skinny, but on feeling good and finding workouts you enjoy. No shame, no guilt. Just a happier, healthier you.”
He grinned. “You’re lit up like a kid on Christmas morning right now. You’ve clearly thought this through, and I think it’s a good idea. How much would it cost to get that off the ground?”
“About fifty grand. I think.” She’d gotten quotes from a few different app developers before applying for the loan.
He nodded. “Done.”
Her eyes went wide. “Wait, what?”
“We have a deal. I’ll give you the money for your business if you pretend to be my girlfriend for the rest of the season.”
“Seriously? You’d just give me fifty grand?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I’d even be willing to pay you the full amount up front.”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “And what exactly would be involved in…in this?”
“The goal would be to convince the media that I’ve settled down and I’m happily attached. We’d go on public dates, make sure we’re photographed together, that sort of thing. It’d just be for a few months.”
“How often would we go out?”
“It would depend on our schedules, I guess. I know you’ve got a full plate, and so do I. But once a week? Maybe twice?”
“And, um, physically, what would be the expectations?” She swallowed thickly, heat swirling through her.
He shrugged again. “Hand holding. Maybe a little kissing, depending on the situation. But nothing more than that.” The familiar flirty grin pulled at his lips. “Unless you want more than that.”
Her mouth went dry at the thought of more with Beau, who was so sexy and confident and athletic that she had no doubt he’d forever ruin her for other men.
“I can do that. Hand holding and maybe kissing.”
He glanced toward the steps leading up to the field, where she could hear the sounds of BP taking place. He grabbed his phone from the shelf in his cubby and handed it to her. “Put your number in here. I gotta head out for BP, but I’ll text you. Hunter’s having a barbeque for the Fourth at his place after tomorrow afternoon’s game. Can you come?”
“Oh, uh…” She took his phone and then hesitated. Things were suddenly getting very real. Fifty thousand dollars, and you’d be helping someone you’re fond of. Right. Except fond was probably the wrong word, which was why this was a dangerous idea. “Sure. Okay. Yeah, I can come.”
“Great. I’ll send you the details and we can make our official debut as a couple. Some of the wives post a lot on social media, so word will get out fast if I show up with my new ‘girlfriend.’” He made air quotes around the word.
As she typed her name and number into Beau’s phone, she tried to focus on the fact that this was a giant step closer to realizing her dream. That she was helping him, and that this was just a business transaction. Soon, she’d have everything she needed to take her business to the next level.
She just hoped she wouldn’t lose her heart to a man she didn’t trust not to break it in the process.
Five
Beau: Hey, Piper. It’s Beau. Hunter’s BBQ is tonight after the game. It’s probably easiest if I pick you up?
Piper: Thank you, but I can drive myself.
Beau: His place is on the outskirts of town and I really wouldn’t feel comfortable with you driving home alone at night from out in the country.
Piper: Oh. That’s sweet. Thank you.
Beau: I do have my moments.
Piper: What time? I have clients and need to film a new video as well as get caught up on email, but I can try to be done by the time the game’s over.
Beau: I can pick you up at 6, if that works for you. Assuming the game doesn’t go to extra innings.
Piper: 6 works for me. I’m on the North Central Expressway, the Preston Towers building.
Beau: It’s a “date.”
