“Me too,” Ivy said, her voice thick. She glanced from Newt to Missy.
“I can’t guys. I can’t keep going. Don’t you understand? I need a break. All this going and doing and never a minute to myself is too much. Please give me a break.” She didn’t care if it sounded like she was begging.
Missy cupped Ivy’s shoulder with her hand. “It’s just one shoot with Live, then I promise I’ll schedule in a break.”
Tears threatened. “When do they want me?”
Missy grimaced. “The network wants you there in two days. You’ll leave at four that morning so you can be at the studio by six for hair and makeup. They want to do a run-through before they shoot live, too.” She paused just enough to catch her breath. “They’ve even booked you the presidential suite at the Four Seasons.”
“Absolutely not,” Kolby said in his slow Southern country-boy drawl. Oh, man, Ivy dug his accent, even though at times, she had no idea what he’d said, and she’d have to ask him to repeat himself. “We had an agreement. You make the schedule far out enough that I can thoroughly clear people.”
Missy lifted an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t understand that. Could you speak a little slower?”
Ivy could take a lot, but she hated it when Missy was snobby to Kolby, the one side of her friend she’d never understood. Missy could be so sweet and kind, helping Ivy at the shelters, walking dogs, all the community service things that Ivy loved. But it seemed impossible for her to be nice to Kolby. “Missy, don’t be hateful. He’s doing his job.”
“Why did your dad have to hire him? Surely there was someone else…more refined.” Her best friend crossed her arms over her chest. “Someone who could speak a language we understand.”
Ivy twisted in her seat to look at Kolby. “I’m sorry.”
Missy glowered at Kolby. “The network is sending a private plane. They know about the stalker. Their guys would have cleared everyone anyway.”
Kolby’s jaw clenched, and he kept his expression neutral. “But they aren’t me. I’ll need to speak with the security team and have my people do background checks on them as well.”
“Don’t you think that’s overkill?” asked Newt.
Kolby shook his head. “No. Her safety is my job, and I do my job well. Get me the name of the company. I’ll make sure they’re vetted before she gets on that plane.” His gaze lowered to Ivy’s. “That’s if Miss Ivy wants to go.”
Ivy smiled at Kolby in appreciation. Miss Ivy. The way he said it sent a shiver through her. That was as close to calling her by name as he’d get. She was his client; therefore, she deserved respect. Turning to Missy and Newt, she said. “I’ll do the show, but I’m done for a while after that.”
Newt and Missy began to speak at the same time.
“Guys, I’m going home for now,” Ivy said, standing. She leaned into Kolby. “Like I said, I’ll do the show, but after…I don’t know.”
Kolby hooked his arm around her shoulder, and she let him lead her out of the room. It had only been recently that he’d been doing little things like this. Part of the reason she’d begun to fantasize about kissing him. She felt safe with Kolby. Of course, his salary put a damper on things.
If only she had someone who loved her and put her first without getting paid to do it. Maybe when she finished shooting Live with Charla, she’d take a break and reevaluate where she wanted to go in life. She was tired of being alone. This time next year, she wanted to have someone’s arms around her who she loved and who loved her.
Grab your copy of The Ranger’s Peace and follow along as Ivy weaves her way into Kolby’s heart.
Sneak Peek! Her Pretend Billionaire Boyfriend Chapter 1
Tristan Stone swiveled his chair away from the boardroom table and looked out over the Seattle skyline. The sun glinted off the windows of the Space Needle while a white-capped Mount Rainier stood in the background. He wished he was there, on the top of the mountain, and not dwelling on the board meeting that had just ended. He didn’t want to think about the dozen or so men and women who’d argued about which direction his grandmother would’ve wanted him to take the cruise line he’d inherited.
He missed her.
Find someone to love, sweetheart. Not all women will want you for your money. His grandmother’s words were like a megaphone in his head. He could still feel the aged hand touching his cheek and see the wrinkled face smiling up at him. Even while she was sick, she’d been thinking of him.
He’d tried to convince her he didn’t feel lonely, but she could always see through him. Three months, and not a day went by that he didn’t miss her laughter and wisdom.
“Tristan!” Grayson Matthews’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Are you listening to me?”
“No,” he said without taking his eyes off the skyline.
“Nice. Real nice.” Grayson huffed, pulling a chair directly in front of him and sitting backward in it.
Tristan leveled his eyes at him. “What?”
“That board meeting was out of control. Why didn’t you do anything?”
Why? Because he didn’t want to do anything. His grandmother wasn’t even cold, and vultures were circling. “My head isn’t here.” He had tasks to finish for his grandma. One of which was taking a cruise on the last cruise ship she’d designed so he could spread her ashes over the ocean.
Grayson’s icy blue eyes softened. “Buddy, I know you miss her, but if you want this company to continue, you’re going to have to bring that alpha dog reputation you’ve created to the table.”
Alpha dog. Tristan snorted. “I know, but this is different. I’m not buying up a company. This was her company. A company…people…I promised to take care of.” He was used to taking over companies, bulldozing over anything that got in the way of making it successful and turning it into a thriving business. This was different. He’d made a solemn vow to take care of her employees, among other things. Things he wasn’t willing to tell his best friend.
“Listen, man, I know you were close to her, but…”
Tristan stood and raked a hand through his dark-brown hair. “I’m not selling this company. I’ll buy out everyone’s shares if I have to. I don’t care if I go bankrupt keeping it.” He closed his eyes. He wasn’t just close to his grandmother. Other than Grayson and his Aunt Felicia, she was the only person he trusted to love him for more than just his money.
The chair squeaked as Grayson stood. “Maybe you should take a vacation. Get out of here, get some fresh air, grieve. Come back when you’re ready to make some hard decisions.”
Grayson continued when he didn’t respond. “Seriously, take one. Two weeks. What can possibly happen in two weeks without you here? It’s been three months, and nothing’s changed yet.” Grayson grasped his shoulder and turned him around. “You took care of her the last eight months of her life. I know it had to be hard on you. Taking a break will help.”
Tristan did like the idea. The stress of taking care of a loved one was worse than he ever imagined. The last month or so, his grandma didn’t even know who he was. She’d look at him with a blank expression most of the time, and when she was even remotely coherent, she’d call him by his father’s name, Thomas.
He had promised his grandma that he’d take a cruise and spread her ashes. May as well get it done. He could check that off the list. “Maybe you’re right.”
Grayson smiled and pulled out his phone. “Ohhh, I’m going to need you to say that again. I want to record it and replay it when you’re being arrogant and egotistical.”
“I’m not arrogant or egotistical. I’m just right all the time.” Tristan chuckled.
His friend’s eyes widened. “Let me take care of it. I’ve got the perfect place in mind. Hot women, warm sand, cool clear water. I can even picture it. The two of us, lounging on some tropical oasis and sipping fruity drinks that come in pineapples.” He pulled up the search engine on his phone. “Cheesy, but tasty.”
Tristan rubbed his k
nuckles down his jaw. “No, I want to go somewhere no one will recognize me. I want to be left alone.” He wanted to be Tristan. Not Tristan Stone the billionaire. He wanted to feel normal. For once, he wanted to be just one of the guys. An idea began to form.
“You might try Mars, then. You’re a thirty-one-year-old billionaire, and you’re in every socialite paper known to man. And with that baby face of yours? Good luck.” Grayson laughed.
“I could grow a beard.” The words popped out of Tristan’s mouth. What? He hated beards. They were itchy.
Grayson lifted an eyebrow. “You? Dude, you tried that remember? A five o’clock shadow nearly had you in a straightjacket.”
That was true, but if it could give him some anonymity, maybe it was worth it. “I’ll try again.” And if he went undercover on the cruise ship, maybe he could get a better understanding of the company.
“Okay, if you think you can.” Grayson’s lack of confidence didn’t help.
Tristan tugged on his dark-gray suit coat, straightening it. “And I want to go alone. I think I need it.”
His best friend’s face fell. “What? But I’m your wingman, your right-hand dude, your mate, your—”
“I know. Normally, I’d want you to come, but I really think I need some time alone.” Plus, he didn’t want Grayson to know what he was really planning.
Grayson eyed him and then huffed. “Fine, but you owe me a paradise getaway with hot women.”
“Aren’t you dating that model? What’s her name?” Tristan wracked his brain. Grayson had a new girlfriend every five seconds. “Gwen Hanover.”
He shrugged and looked at the floor. “Nah, she was okay, but she had this weird thing where she smacked her gum.”
“You broke it off because she smacked her gum? I met her twice. Neither time was she chewing gum.” He’d never met a guy so afraid of commitment.
“Yeah.”
Tristan shook his head. “One of these days, you’re going to have to evaluate a woman on more than her quirks. Granted, I didn’t think she was good for you, but she wasn’t horrible either. Not nearly as bad as that Heather woman.”
Grayson grunted and shivered. “At least I date.”
“I date. I date a lot.” Tristan was also lonely. A lot. The women who were attracted to him were typically interested in two things: his money or their fifteen minutes of fame from being associated with him. It happened enough times that he’d stopped asking anyone out.
A thin dark eyebrow went up, and Grayson pierced him with a look.
Tristan shook his head. “Fine, so I don’t. I have to go. I’ve got some plans to make.”
“Okay, but don’t forget, you owe me.” His friend pointed a finger at him.
“Whatever.” Tristan grinned and walked out of the room. He needed a beard, a single room, and passage on a cruise ship.
* * *
Belle Evans’s leg bounced as she waited to board the cruise ship. Never in her wildest dreams would she have ever thought she’d win a cruise and ten grand. All her life, she’d figured those contests were hoaxes. Who sticks their name in a box and actually thinks they’re going to win something? She’d hung up on the radio guy twice before he’d convinced her she’d won.
She wasn’t the only winner, either. At least twenty others had won, or that’s what she was told by the cruise people when she got her tickets. They’d be picking out random paying passengers too. Something about fixing their image and using them as advertisement by getting photos and feedback at the end of the cruise. If it weren’t for the ten grand that came with the trip, she wouldn’t be going. It’d given her the ability to get ahead on her mom’s nursing home payments.
Her phone buzzed, and she checked it. Ugh. Laura, her best friend since high school who was now her ex-best friend had been calling incessantly all morning. How many times was she going to call her? She needed to catch a clue and leave her alone.
Their relationship had always been like that though. Laura would do something to hurt her, and for some reason, Belle would always forgive her. This was different. She’d done something that Belle couldn’t just brush off this time. It was time to stop thinking about Laura and get on with her cruise.
Over the last hour, other passengers had arrived one by one, and now the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen was standing about a foot behind her. His dark wavy hair was neat except for a cute little wild piece curling over his ear. He had dazzling dark-brown eyes. She only knew that because he’d caught her staring earlier. The smile he’d shot her almost made her fall to the floor.
It had reminded her of another smile, and she’d worked to avoid looking in his direction again. She didn’t need any complications, and a man would definitely be a complication.
“Nervous?” he asked.
She startled. “What?”
He pointed to her foot. It was tapping so fast her nickname could have been Thumper.
Her cheeks heated up, and she hooked her foot around her other leg. “No, I’m just fidgety. I’m not used to just standing and waiting.”
His smile was warm. Not flirty, but genuine. “Well, no worries about that. You’re going to be doing a lot of running on the cruise. From what I understand, there’s a lot to do.” He scratched the little more than a five o’clock shadow growing on his jaw.
“I know. Guess it’s not the worst thing in the world to be forced to relax.” She twisted a piece of her strawberry blonde hair around her finger. “Is your beard new?”
He lifted his head, and again his brown eyes found hers. “What?”
She touched her jaw. “Your beard? Is it new? I’m only asking because you keep scratching it.”
The man jerked his hand away from his face. “Oh, yeah, I’m just trying something different. Everyone tells me I have a baby face, and I’m tired of it.”
It did look good on him, but she tried picturing him without it. “I like it. It makes you look distinguished.”
Before he said another word, he quickly closed the gap between them. “I thought distinguished is what young people called old men.”
Oh, good lord, he was a tower of a man. Olive skin, broad shoulders, thickly built, soulful brown eyes, and he smelled like spice. Butterflies met the tingles flooding her body, and they danced the rumba all over her. “Uh, well, it could apply to anyone. I mean, the definition means successful, authoritative, and commanding respect. I don’t think you have to be old to do that.” Did her voice squeak? She cleared her throat, just in case.
“Name’s Tristan. What’s yours?” This time, she noticed his deep baritone voice. It was like rich espresso. The kind that’s smooth and potent.
He stuck a hand out, and as she shook it, she said, “Belle, Belle Evans.” Her mom had loved literature, and she’d given her the same love. Belle just wished her mom could remember it.
His eyebrows shot up. “Like Twilight?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, Belle as in Beauty and the Beast.”
“Oh, right. I tend to get those two mixed up.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. So, did you win too?” Not that she needed to know, she just wanted to keep him talking because she liked the sound of his voice.
Something she couldn’t put a finger on flashed across his features. “No, I bought my ticket. You won?”
“Yeah, I never expected to win. It was a whim. I’d forgotten I even entered. That radio guy sounded frustrated with me, but I did hang up on him twice.” Her phone vibrated, and she looked down at it. Again? With a huff, she pressed the decline-call button.
Tristan smiled at her again. “Problem?”
Belle leaned over to see where she was in line. It was like an airport terminal with a long counter and agents behind computers checking people in. The person in front of her moved ahead, and she stepped forward, pulling her luggage behind her.
She wanted to tell him, “Yep, my best friend stealing my fiancé was a huge problem,” but instead, she pasted on a smil
e and shook her head. “No. I just want to be able to concentrate on what I’m doing.” At least on the cruise, Belle wouldn’t be dealing with Laura calling her all the time.
“Good idea.” He caught her gaze and held it. “You have really pretty eyes.”
Belle’s fascination with Tristan screeched to a halt. The one thing she didn’t want was a relationship or fling or anything else while she was on a nine-day cruise. And if both of them were going to be on the same ship, they’d definitely have the opportunity to spend time together. “Thanks.” She turned her back on him, unwilling to take the chance of being burnt again.
The line moved again, and Belle got a little closer to the woman in front of her. Hopefully, that’d give Mr. Smooth Voice a hint she wasn’t interested. Her jackhammering heart needed to cut it out. Falling for someone wasn’t on the to-do list. She just needed to get on board and forget her troubles, like Paul getting her fired.
It was stupid. Paul was the one who chased her. Paul was the one who asked her out and then asked her to marry him. It was all Paul Whitlock. The snake. He’d fed her so many lies, and she’d eaten them up like pie at a church picnic. Then he’d sabotaged her marketing campaign, cheated on her with her best friend, and dumped her. A whole year of blood, sweat, and tears to build her fledgling marketing career had gone straight down the drain.
Finally, it was her turn to check in. There were a ton of things she needed to answer, like had she been sick recently, and she had to have her debit card tied to her room card so she could make purchases, which she had no intention of doing.
Once all her paperwork was in order, she got her room card and hurried to the deck of the ship. As she walked away from the ticket counter, she glanced at Tristan. His dark eyes followed her the entire way, and whatever he was thinking was a mystery. The man could obviously play poker.
A woman in a cruise uniform smiled as Belle stopped at the entrance to the ship. “Hello, welcome aboard. We’ll be leaving port tonight. We hope you’ll have a wonderful time. If there is anything you need, please ask. Crew and staff can be identified with neck lanyards and uniforms.”
The Ranger's Chance (Army Ranger Romance Book 1) Page 18
