No response. Gritting his teeth, he scanned the room. They were in the restaurant at the hotel Chrissy was currently staying in. A view of Manhattan bathed in early-summer sunlight wrapped around them. But it was hard to enjoy the view with Chrissy’s team of beefcakes hovering around them like a bad smell. One of the guys looked at Reed with his lip curled.
“Your muscle got a problem with me?” he asked.
Chrissy finally looked up, her pale-green eyes darting to her team and back. “Drako? Ah, don’t mind him.”
Drako continued to stare at Reed as though he was a piece of dog crap scraped from the bottom of someone’s shoe. The guy was built like a brick wall and looked twice as thick. But Reed guessed Chrissy’s team wasn’t employed for witty banter and intellectual discussions.
“He’s just…” She waved a hand in the air, her rhinestone-covered nails flashing like disco lights. “He’s a feminist.”
“Excuse me?” Reed blinked. “What the hell has that got to do with anything?”
Chrissy signaled to the waiter to top up her orange juice. She commanded people as though she’d been doing it her whole life and not like she’d been discovered in some dingy, two-bit mall talent contest down in Florida. “He doesn’t agree with the way you treat women.”
“Your G.I. Joe Ken doll has a problem with how I treat women?” He stopped short of saying What the actual fuck?
“Women deserve to be treated with respect,” Drako said in what sounded like a heavy Ukrainian accent.
Chrissy held up a hand. “Drako’s right. We’re not, like, second-class citizens, you know.”
This from the woman whose lyrics included such literary gems as “boom boom lock that bitch down…ho.” Reed gritted his teeth. He was here to convince Chrissy to come back to Bath and Weston, questioning her loyalty to her gender would not help achieve that.
“Chrissy, you of all people should know you can’t believe everything you read.” He raised a brow. “Otherwise, you’ve had three marriages, four divorces, and at least as many accidental pregnancies.”
“Are you telling me it’s bullshit?” She rubbed at her eyes and spread the black mess further. “You don’t trick women into bed?”
Chrissy Stardust and her band of merry beefcakes were judging him? What alternate universe had he slipped into? His first instinct was to correct her. There was no trickery, since he was always up front about how he operated.
But he had to get control of this situation, and that meant not allowing her to derail the conversation. Because without Chrissy, he was at serious risk of being under his projected targets for the first time ever since he’d started at Bath and Weston. And that would not look good when he had to go to Edward for a lifeline. If he was going to save his job, he needed to keep the dollars rolling in.
“How about you remind your team that they’re meant to be seen, not heard”—Reed drained the rest of his coffee, wishing he’d thought to ask the waiter to slip in a shot of something stronger—“and let the grown-ups talk?”
Chrissy waved her hand and Drako motioned for the team to fall back a few steps.
“Look, I understand this is an awkward situation,” Reed said. “But can we cut the bullshit? We’ve worked together long enough not to need pretenses.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Chrissy raked a hand through her hair, bangles jangling at her wrist.
“I know you leaving Bath and Weston wasn’t about needing a change. It was about what’s happening with me.”
Her lips were painted in something that looked sticky enough to put a china bowl back together. “Okay.”
“Can you at least admit it?”
“Yes, I left Bath and Weston because of what I read about you.” She huffed and slunk farther down into her seat. “Does that make you feel better?”
“No. But I want everything on the table.” He forced himself to keep a soft expression despite wanting to spit out the bitter taste in his mouth. His team had worked like dogs on so many occasions to make Chrissy look good. Where was the loyalty? “And my team was very disappointed to see you go, Chrissy. We’ve done some great work together over the years. We know what works with your audience. We know what works with the media who follow you. Why throw away all that knowledge for something that won’t even be an issue a week from now?”
“I don’t think this is going away.”
The words sent a chill through him. It would go away because it had to. He’d already scheduled a meeting with a PI for that afternoon to make sure this bullshit didn’t continue.
“It is going away because it’s not a real issue to begin with.” He curled and uncurled his fists under the pristine white tablecloth. “You know what the media is like. This week Bad Bachelors is big news, and then next week someone will get divorced or go swimming topless and people will move on. That’s how it works.”
Chrissy sighed. “The thing is, Reed, I have to think about my audience. They’re young girls. I want to be a role model.”
The day Chrissy Stardust was a role model for young women was the day he was officially going to tap out of life. The woman had good intentions, but he’d pulled her reputation out of the gutter enough times to seriously doubt Chrissy would be changing her ways anytime soon.
“It doesn’t matter where the rumors came from.” Chrissy shoved her orange juice away and reached into her purse for a silver flask. Christ, and she’d been admonishing him a moment ago. “What matters is my message. I don’t want my fans seeing me work with a womanizer. They’re better than that. I’m better than that.” She took a swig of the flask and the scent of vodka hit Reed’s nose like a punch. “We’re done here.”
He stayed rooted to his chair as she sauntered off, wobbling on her thigh-high stiletto boots until Drako steadied her. The bastard winked over his shoulder before they exited the restaurant, leaving Reed to seethe alone.
* * *
Later that day, he walked into the Brooklyn diner where he was due to have his first meeting with a PI named Peter Law. The place was kitsch. Clichéd ’50s style and signs proclaiming their onion rings to be the best in the state. It was the kind of place he wouldn’t have been caught dead in usually. Which was exactly why he’d picked it for this meeting.
Darcy had been stuck in his head all day, their kiss playing on repeat in his mind. It was a distraction. One he could do without. “It’s sad that you’re turned on by a woman who so clearly hates you,” Reed muttered as he drummed his fingers against the Formica tabletop in front of him.
Perhaps it was a survival mechanism. Given the pool of women who didn’t hate him was drastically shrinking in the wake of Bad Bachelors’ “exposé” on him, his options for a date were reduced to women looking for a story to share. Or worse, the deluded types who thought they could change him. But Darcy was neither of those things.
“Mr. McMahon, good to see you again.” The PI stopped at his table, almost cutting off Reed’s circulation as he grasped Reed’s outstretched hand. He was old-school, the kind of guy who knew the importance of a strong handshake. “What can I do for you this time?”
He’d worked with Peter before. The guy was a former NYPD cop and had proved to be both reliable and discreet—two qualities Reed admired greatly, especially since he was keeping this meeting off the books. Having a meeting scheduled with a private investigator wasn’t exactly uncommon in his world—he’d used them plenty of times to discredit people speaking out against his clients. But this was different.
This was personal.
“I’m hoping it will be a simple job. I want to know who created this website and the corresponding app.” Reed handed over a piece of paper with the Bad Bachelors URL written on it.
“Okay.” Peter took the piece of paper and studied the address for a moment before folding it up and tucking it into a worn leather notebook. “Just a name?”
“And person
al contact information.”
“Right.” Peter’s lip twitched and a surge of annoyance ran through Reed’s veins. “I can imagine you’d be interested in speaking to this person.”
Damn it, had everyone read the post about him?
“This is a sensitive matter, as I’m sure you can understand. So we’re clear, I’m employing you, not Bath and Weston.” He paused as the server came over to offer them coffee. “You report to me and only me.”
“Of course,” he said. “Confidentiality is always my top priority.”
Trust wasn’t something he had in reserve, let alone for an issue that impacted both his career and his personal life.
“You must have pissed off one hell of a woman,” Peter said, his bushy mustache brushing the top of his cup as he took a sip of his coffee. “We’ve all been there.”
Reed swallowed back a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn’t looking for camaraderie right now. Not from Peter, not from his friends. Not from anyone.
He was far too practical for that; all he wanted was a solution. Because his job—and the care it afforded his father—was all he cared about in this fucked-up world. People could say whatever the hell they liked behind his back. He couldn’t give two shits if they labeled him a player, a womanizer.
But the second it impacted Adam, he was going to bring out the big guns and put it to an end.
Peter nodded when it was clear he wasn’t going to get a response. “I’ll come back to you as soon as I have something.”
* * *
Darcy had been in a daze all day. Ever since Reed had kissed her on Friday night, it had felt as though she were floating on a cloud…a cloud that was lumpy and uncomfortable and possibly stuffed with cacti. The memory was like a splinter; it’d burrowed too far under her skin, and all she could do was wait for her body to reject it.
She’d assigned herself to shelving the returned books today because the thought of having to be perky with the library’s patrons was too damned much. Even her favorite library assistant, Lily, had steered clear, and that girl was practically immune to bad moods. Not that Darcy was in a bad mood per se… The feeling wasn’t something she could so easily categorize in binary terms. It was kind of like the love child of confusion, horniness, and shame. Not a great combo by anyone’s standards.
Sighing, she looked at the cart in front of her. The books felt like they were multiplying rather than diminishing. Someone had decided to leave a bunch in the wrong areas. There’d been religious books in the language section, philosophy books in the arts section, and a book about sexual reproduction shelved next to a self-help book about why people make bad decisions.
Perhaps the universe was trying to tell her something.
“There you are.” Lily tentatively approached. “You have a visitor.”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone today.” She turned over a book titled The Art of Getting What You Want and frowned. “Did they leave a name?”
“I didn’t ask. He’s waiting by the front desk.” Lily leaned in conspiratorially. “Are you seeing someone?”
“No.” Darcy pushed the cart against the shelves to keep it out of the way. “I’m not.”
After she’d returned to Remi and Annie on Friday night, all hot under the collar, she’d wheeled out excuse after excuse not to approach Five-Star Darren. Reed’s kiss had flipped some switch in her brain that made every other person appear in black and white, while he was in full HD color.
“Well, it didn’t sound like a business call and he’s very cute.” Lily clapped her hands together. “Like Chris Pine levels of cute.”
A “very cute” male visitor? Surely it wasn’t Reed. But Lily was happily married to her high school sweetheart and one of those disgustingly smitten people Darcy avoided at weddings and family functions. She didn’t make a fuss about any men who came into the library. Ever.
Which meant this was no ordinary man.
The second Darcy scanned the area near the front desk, her stomach flipped. Reed was here…without warning. Cursing under her breath, she smoothed her hands down the front of her T-shirt that said Book boyfriends do it better. Of course he was here on the day when she’d slept through her alarm and had barely enough time to run a brush through her hair, let alone spare a moment to make her skin look like a regular human pallor with concealer and blush. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a mirrored display case and cringed. Gollum chic wasn’t a thing, was it?
“Who is he?” Lily whispered, as though it wasn’t totally obvious they were both talking about him.
Reed tilted his chin in acknowledgment as Darcy headed toward him, Lily following close behind. “That’s the PR person who’s helping us with our fundraiser.”
“And you were saying getting in a pro would be overkill,” she scoffed. “Maybe we should hire him full-time.”
“Oh yeah, with all the extra money we have floating around.” Darcy rolled her eyes and signaled for Reed to meet her in one of the empty reading rooms. If she was going to make a fool of herself, better that she limit the opportunity for witnesses. “Great idea.”
Reed looked like he’d had a rough day, although he wore it with a little more panache than she did. His dark hair was unusually messy and his tie sat off center. Kind of how he’d looked after he kissed her on Friday night…
Stop it. It was a dare, nothing more. You didn’t feel anything.
Oh boy, was that ever a lie. Reed’s kiss had been a jolt of electricity straight to her lady parts. She’d woken up in a tangle of sheets at 3:00 a.m. and had thrown them off in a huff so she could have a cold shower. Not that shivering under the spray had worked. She’d fallen asleep sometime around six and had woken feeling just as tingly and the sensation had stayed with her over the weekend.
“Why are you here?” she asked as they entered the reading room. It felt strange to talk to Reed in a place where he looked so incredibly out of place, even if he was a little less polished than usual.
“We missed our meeting last week, remember?” His eyes flickered over her, a slight smirk tugging on his lips as his gaze came to rest on her T-shirt. “Book boyfriends do it better, huh? Either you’ve got some really good books, or your boyfriends are setting a low bar.”
Heat snaked up her neck. “I know we missed our meeting,” she said, ignoring the taunt. “Didn’t you think to check in with me to see whether I was free before you wasted your time coming over?”
“I called ahead to make sure you were here and I was told you were.” He poked his head out of the room and looked around. “Anyway, doesn’t seem like you’re that busy.”
She sucked in a calming breath and busied her hands with straightening a piece of artwork. “And you know enough about my job to determine that?”
“I wanted to get away from the office, so I thought I would drop by and see if you were free,” he said with a sigh. “Is that okay with you, Your Highness?”
Don’t punch the guy who’s supposed to be helping you, even if you want to really, really badly…
“I might be able to sit with you for a bit,” she conceded.
Reed looked around the room with unconcealed disdain. “I was thinking we could grab a coffee…somewhere that doesn’t smell like glue sticks and baby food.”
Darcy resisted the urge to sniff the wall next to her. Was that really how it smelled? Tempting as it was to force Reed to stay, the lure of a real coffee—not that cheap crap they stocked the staff room with—was strong. “Fine. I’ll see if Lily can cover for me. I’m due to have a lunch break anyway.” She paused in the doorway. “Though I’m not sure how you’re supposed to generate sympathy for a place you can’t stand to be in for more than three seconds.”
He shrugged and a funny expression settled onto his face. “What can I say? I have unusual talents.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated in a coffee s
hop down the road from the library. It was one of Darcy’s personal favorites because they had a mouthwatering pastry selection, including the almond-flavored sfogliatella she favored, and their coffee was smooth and strong.
“This is more like it,” Reed said as they grabbed a table by the window.
The place was small and would probably only seat ten to twelve people, max. She hadn’t realized until now how intimate the tables were, and her knees knocked against Reed’s annoyingly long legs as they sat. The man took up more than his fair share of space in the world.
Don’t you mean he’s taking up more than his share of space in your head?
To her surprise, he’d opted for a pastry as well. He seemed like the type that would only see food as fuel. “So,” she said, “why don’t you want to be in the office?”
“I needed fresh air.” He brought the pastry up to his mouth and took a bite.
A dusting of powdered sugar coated his top lip and Darcy’s tongue darted out as if in response. Damn it, she was practically salivating. She needed to get a grip and stop acting so…Pavlovian.
“You’re avoiding people?” she guessed.
“Something like that.” He dusted his hands off on a napkin and then worked his tie loose. “It’s been a rough day.”
“Everything okay with your dad?” The question popped out before she could stop it. The last thing she needed was a reminder of Reed at his most vulnerable and raw. It was easier to keep her distance when she thought of him as Reed the womanizing douche canoe, rather than Reed the caring son.
And you need to keep your distance why?
Because he would chew her up and spit her out like he did with every other woman he dated. Though for some reason that didn’t sound so unappealing now. Perhaps she was putting too much pressure on herself by trying to walk up to a guy that had potential. Someone who was allergic to commitment might be exactly what she needed…kind of like a dry run.
Or a wet run, as the case would most definitely be.
Bad Bachelor Page 11
