One More Promise
Page 4
The elevator came to a stop on the first floor, and when the doors opened, Dylan again motioned for her to go first as he frantically tried to think of a reasonable compromise.
“Like what?” she asked as she came to a stop in the middle of the massive lobby. There were a few people walking around, but no one was paying any attention to them. Maybe that would work in his favor, if she noticed he wasn’t one of those mob-inducing celebrities.
“Well, you seemed like you were on your way out to…someplace. Maybe I can tag along and we can talk. Like in the car. We’ll grab our coffees—if you want one—and drive for a bit. No one’s going to chase after the car or anything,” he said with a small laugh and instantly stopped when he saw she wasn’t laughing.
Or smiling.
“I’m going to the grocery store,” she stated. “And then home. I don’t think that’s going to work. We can do this next week. I’ll have Daisy call you. I think we have your number on file so—”
“No!” he quickly interrupted. Okay, this time he was definitely being paranoid, but he knew if he didn’t talk to her today, didn’t convince her to let him in on this project, that he wasn’t going to get another chance.
“Excuse me?”
He sighed and figured he had nothing left to lose. “Look, I get it. You know who I am and I can tell you’ve got no real interest in working with me. Actually, I don’t get it. If you feel like this, why reach out to me at all?”
“Actually…I didn’t,” she said hesitantly and then instantly looked down at the ground.
“I don’t understand.”
Now it was her turn to sigh, but then she looked up at him. “I had… And then my sister…” She stopped and sighed again. “Maybe we should go get that coffee.”
Two minutes ago, Dylan would have considered that a victory, but now he had a feeling she was using it as a way to let him down easily. “Yeah. Okay. Sure.” She gave him a brief nod and then led the way out of the building. He got in step beside her, and neither spoke as they walked along the sidewalk to the corner coffee shop.
Once inside, they still didn’t speak except to give their orders. He breathed a sigh of relief that no one seemed to recognize him, and when Paige offered to get a table, he agreed to wait for their drinks. Dylan motioned to the barista and asked for a couple of cake pops to be added to their bill. He noticed Paige hadn’t ordered any, but at this point, he wasn’t above using whatever he could to get on her good side.
As he waited, his mind raced. Why was this so important? When Mick had first mentioned this project to him, it wasn’t something he’d wanted to do. Then he’d made his peace with it, but it wasn’t as if it were mandatory that he do this project in particular to meet his community service commitment. There were plenty to choose from. Maybe it was ridiculous for him to be getting in a snit over it and trying to win over a chick who didn’t seem like she wanted to be won.
Dylan looked over to the table in the far corner that Paige had snagged for them and smiled. She looked flustered, and she fidgeted with her hair and then her glasses as she looked around the room as if waiting for some sort of flash mob to jump out at any moment and demand he perform with them.
“Oh my God! Are you Dylan Anders?” a voice whispered from behind the counter.
Dylan turned and smiled at the young girl holding his tray of cake pops and coffees. He leaned in a little and whispered. “I am.”
She blushed and slowly handed him his tray. “I thought it was you and I didn’t want to say it out loud and embarrass you—or me, in case I was wrong. Wow! I…I’m such a big fan. Really. You’re awesome.”
“Thanks,” he replied and looked at her name badge, “Tammy. I appreciate that.”
She looked over her shoulder as if gauging the line. “Would you mind signing something for me?”
“Not at all.” He waited as she reached for a cup and then grabbed a Sharpie and handed it to him.
“Sorry. It’s all I can find, and I don’t want to draw attention to you or get in trouble with my boss.”
“No worries,” he said, still smiling, as he signed the cup and handed it to her. “And thanks. I appreciate you keeping it quiet.”
“Oh,” she sighed happily. “Sure. No problem. Enjoy your coffee!”
With a wave, Dylan made his way to the corner where Paige was waiting, frowning.
Great.
Deciding to ignore that look, he put the tray on the table and smiled. He handed her the white chocolate mocha Frappuccino and then the plate of cake pops. He saw her eyes light up briefly and decided right then and there that if he managed to get her to agree to let him work on this project, he would have to remember that she clearly had a sweet tooth.
Placing the empty tray aside on a vacant chair, he stripped off his jacket and was about to sit down when he saw the horrified look on Paige’s face.
She was staring at his arms—at his tattoos—with more than a hint of disgust. Okay, not everyone was a fan of tattoos, but his weren’t anything to freak out over. It wasn’t as if he were covered in demons and skulls, for crying out loud! His sleeves were deeply personal to him. Every drop of ink on his skin held a special meaning—his latest tat finished the sleeve on his right arm and said, “Inhale the future, exhale the past.” It was a good motto to be living by right now. The rest on that arm had to do with music and was filled in with roses, which were symbolic of deep love, passion, and balance. Or so he’d been told. They were also sometimes seen as a message for healing, rejuvenation, and courage.
That described his journey of the past several months.
Not deterred by her reaction, Dylan sat and took a sip of his dark roast. Not that he didn’t enjoy a good latte or espresso, but right now, he really needed some straight coffee.
“So,” he began after his first sip, “I read the packet you sent along, and I have to admit, it sounds great.”
Paige took another sip of her drink and then put it down before speaking. He watched her eye the plate of cake pops, and he had a feeling she was fighting the urge to at least taste one before talking to him. But she looked up at him and gave him a small smile.
At least she wasn’t sneering or looking at his arms anymore. She cleared her throat and straightened in her chair.
Here we go.
“Mr. Anders—”
“Dylan,” he corrected with a smile.
That seemed to relax her a little. “Okay…Dylan. There seems to be a bit of a…misunderstanding.” She paused. “You see, my original plans for this campaign involved using well-known authors and only authors. After all, who understands the love of reading and the importance of it more than an author?”
“That makes sense.”
She nodded and took another small sip of her beverage. “Well, that was the plan I laid out to my firm, and the person I asked to reach out to those authors took it upon herself to…expand upon my list and reach out to…”
“Me?”
She nodded again. “And others.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
That had her hesitating, and he watched with a mixture of annoyance and amusement as she eyed the cake pops again. Knowing he’d never have her full attention at this rate, Dylan reached over and picked one up and held it out to her. “Here. Eat it. Please!” he said with a forced chuckle. “Just…get it out of the way so we can talk.”
Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and Dylan realized it probably wasn’t overly proper or polite of him to point out that she was agonizing over a piece of cake, but they had bigger issues to discuss, and dammit, he deserved her full attention.
“Sorry,” he murmured as she reluctantly took the pop from his hand. “I hate sitting here watching you argue with yourself over this. Take it and enjoy it. I got it for you.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “It’s not very professional, or
ladylike, for me to be paying more attention to cake than a client so…I’m sorry.” Then she took a delicate bite of the pop and groaned with pleasure.
Dylan’s immediate thought was how the cake was bite-sized and wondered why she took such a small bite, but as soon as she groaned, he realized he didn’t give a damn how many bites it took for her to get through it. Never had he seen someone take such extreme pleasure in their food—especially such a tiny bite of food!
He shifted in his seat and thought of helping himself to one of the pops but immediately reconsidered. If they had to sit here for the rest of the afternoon, he was willing to torture himself and simply listen to Paige enjoy each and every bite.
“Oh, that’s good,” she said and smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, and meant it. “So…someone messed with your list…”
She took another bite, moaned, and nodded.
Dylan shifted again to ease what was sure to become a very evident reaction to the sound of Paige’s throaty voice.
“My sister,” she said. “She doesn’t think authors—bestselling authors—are a big enough draw for the campaign. So she decided to reach out to bigger names, but to be honest with you, I don’t understand her reasoning.” She studied him for a moment. “I mean, overall I do. Many literacy campaigns in the past have used athletes and celebrities to help sell the cause. But…is there something about you that would have her believe you’d be a good fit for a literacy project? Have you ever done anything for this cause before?”
He shook his head. “Honestly, I’ve never worked on anything like this before.” He paused and tried to work out in his head what he wanted to say, but his mouth didn’t want to wait. “Look, I’m a musician. Normally my time is spent on tour or in the studio. There was never time or a need to do anything like this. But right now? I’ve got nothing but time on my hands and this is a project I’d like to get involved with.”
With a tilted head, she looked at him, and he noticed the slight frown. “Why? Why do you have so much free time?”
“The band’s on hiatus.”
Straightening, she nodded. “Oh. Okay. For how long?”
“I don’t know. Things are a little…complicated right now. But from what I saw of your timeline, it’s not going to cause a conflict.”
“How can you be so sure? What if things worked out and someone wanted to perform next week? Then what?”
“Then I’d make it work out so I would honor my commitment to you first,” he said quickly, feeling the first twinge of hope since this conversation began. “If I sign on with you, Paige, then I promise I will see it through to the end. Although I can’t imagine that you’d need me to be an active participant 24/7 for the entire run. But the campaign would be my first priority. You have my word on that.”
That seemed to please her. She took another sip of her Frappuccino and then picked up the next cake pop. Dylan almost leaned in with anticipation.
“I, um…I wasn’t sure which flavors you liked,” he said as she studied the pop. “That one is red velvet, I believe.”
She gave him a shy smile. “Red velvet is my favorite, but they’re all good.” Then she took a small bite and—God help him—let out another little moan.
He felt a bead of sweat start to trickle down his neck.
Was she aware that she was doing it?
Clearing his throat, he said, “I think what you have planned is impressive. I can imagine it’s going to be successful and I want to be a part of it. So what do you say, Paige?”
Rather than answer, she took her second bite and finished the cake pop. Dylan had to distract himself until he was certain she was done.
Clearly, it had been way too long since he’d had sex if he was getting this hot and bothered over a woman eating dessert. He made a mental note to work on rectifying that.
Tonight.
Paige shifted a bit in her seat and studied him. “Dylan, I’d like to say yes to you, but…I can’t.”
Dammit.
“I was leaving early today to look over all the information Ariel changed and sort of wrap my head around it all and see if it makes sense or if we should stick to my original list of contributors and authors. It’s nothing personal—”
“It feels personal,” he muttered.
A small sigh escaped her. “I don’t know enough about you to make this personal,” she countered. “Honestly, Daisy told me who you were, but before that…I had no idea. I’m sorry.”
For a minute, he could only stare. Was she for real? Not that he thought that highly of himself, but he knew that in current pop culture, he was a pretty big name. And she had no idea who he was?
“Do you listen to music? At all?”
She laughed. “Of course I do. And I’m sure if you told me what band you’re with—”
“Shaughnessy.”
“Oh! Oh yes! I really liked your last album,” she said with a genuine smile. Then she shrugged. “But I’m the kind of person who can listen to the music and not give any thought to the people behind it. I know that sounds horrible but…there it is.”
Okay, this wasn’t a bad thing. It could totally work in his favor. If he could convince her to sign him on without having to get into the whole community service requirement quite yet, he’d be thrilled.
Relaxing, he crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at her. “It’s okay, Paige. I don’t have that big of an ego, where I expect everyone to know my name. Still, I feel like you’re cutting me off—and anyone who isn’t an author. I don’t know what your sister’s logic was behind the changes, but maybe she’s onto something. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have authors in the bunch. You totally should. But there’s something to be said for adding another demographic. I’ll bet we could organize a concert of some sort to raise money and awareness.”
And if she agreed to sign him on, he’d make it happen come hell or high water!
Her eyes went wide. “A…a concert? I didn’t think of anything like that. But then again, I haven’t had the time to look at this from every angle. I was so set on having authors doing this that a concert wasn’t even on my radar.”
“Between the band and my connections, I’d like to think I could help you put something together that would get the attention your cause deserves.” Then he leaned forward and took one of her hands in his. “And I truly believe in this, Paige. I think what you’re doing is very…noble. There are a lot of kids who grow into adults without learning how to read—or who can’t read beyond the basics. With any luck, this campaign will not only raise awareness, but it will also provide the funds needed for programs to help people of all ages.”
When he stopped talking, he saw how Paige’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.
What the…?
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
She shook her head. “No. No, not at all. You said something completely right.”
He looked at her with confusion.
With a quick swipe of her eyes, Paige looked at him with a small smile. “I feel like I’ve been fighting an uphill battle with this particular project. It’s something that’s personal to me, and I can’t seem to get that same excitement from anyone else at the firm.” She paused. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like anyone’s sabotaging it, but—”
“But they’re also not going out of their way to support it either,” Dylan finished for her.
“Exactly.” She sighed. “I was in the middle of my presentation yesterday when I discovered the changes to my list. Then my sister… Well…never mind. It’s not important. Let’s say that my presentation got cut short and now I need to decide how to move forward.”
It hit him then that he wasn’t going to get an answer today. Clearly, she was a person who thought everything through, and from what she she’d said, this particular campai
gn was her baby, and she wasn’t going to take to making changes kindly. He knew when to throw in the towel and let things go. And he would.
For now.
Picking up his cup of coffee, he took a long drink and then put it down. “Well, I guess I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Standing up, he smiled and held out a hand to her. “It was nice meeting you, Paige, and I hope to hear from you soon.”
His abrupt change of action seemed to fluster her. She went to stand and shake his hand at the same time and ended up almost knocking her chair over and did succeed in dumping her satchel. With a muttered curse, she apologized and dropped to her knees to pick up her things. Dylan crouched beside her, and they both reached for a book that had fallen out. Dylan grabbed it first and smiled.
“I finished this last night,” he said, handing it to her. “I love a good whodunit, don’t you?”
For some reason, that seemed to fluster her too. She accepted the book and hugged it to her chest as she frantically scooped up the rest of her things. With a muttered thanks, she stood. Dylan straightened and studied her. Paige kept her back to him as she repacked her satchel and he wondered if she was going to turn around or acknowledge him again. He was about to tap her on the shoulder when she faced him.
“So um…yes. I mean…I do love a good whodunit too,” she said softly. “Do you have a favorite author?”
Dylan motioned toward her satchel. “I like his entire series. I started it about three months ago, and now I’m bummed because the next book won’t be out for another couple of months.”
“You… I mean… That’s book eight in the series. You read all eight in three months?”
He nodded. “And a few others. Like I said, I’m a sucker for that kind of story. There were also a few Stephen King books, and I’ll admit to a couple of graphic novels that I threw in for variety. It’s a great way to pass the time.”
For a minute he thought she was going to comment, but all she did was nod.
All righty then.
Deciding there was more to Paige Walters than he was going to figure out today, Dylan knew it was time to go. “I hope you have a great weekend and enjoy your book,” he said and then grabbed his empty cup and walked away.