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Anything but Love (Wingmen #3)

Page 13

by Daisy Prescott


  I leave, unsure if the conversation went well or not.

  A spot of gray paint stains the cuff of my shirt. I notice it when I reverse to park in my spot in Whidbey Joe’s lot. Too late to go home and change, I curse it and roll up both my sleeves. Gray paint colors the side of my left thumb too.

  I scan the parking lot and only spot one television van and a newly familiar silver sedan.

  At least I’ll only be facing one lion in the arena today. Avoiding the café entrance, I open the side door to take me directly into my office.

  The packing area is empty and the roasters sit quiet. When I hear a group of voices, I bolt past the glass door to the public area and head for the bathroom.

  After scrubbing the paint off my hand, I sneak down the hall to the office.

  “About time you finally show up here.” Jonah doesn’t sound thrilled. In fact, he sounds and looks pissed from his office chair.

  I’d take a seat in my chair, but I can’t.

  It’s occupied.

  LIKE A MOVIE villain, Ashley spins around in the chair to face me. Red curls bounce around her head like deadly snakes. Her eyes are alight with mischief and plotting. I’ve seen this look before on her face, but in the past it was focused on Donnely.

  Now it’s aimed at me.

  “You’re lucky Jonah texted me. I got the first ferry over from Mukilteo. You haven’t spoken to any press yet, have you?”

  “Hey, sis.” Jonah greets her with a big grin. “You’re just in time.”

  “Phew. We don’t need Kelso making a mess of this opportunity and ruining it for everyone.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “Great. I like the shirt.”

  “Why did you call Ashley?”

  “I’m promoting her to public relations for Whidbey Joe. Anyone who wants to talk to you has to go through her first.”

  “You sure you want this to all go through the company? I have a lawyer. Shouldn’t everything go through her?”

  “How’s that working for you?”

  “She hasn’t returned my calls,” I say with a sigh. “I’m thinking about firing her.”

  “Right. We have King7 camped out in the café and drinking free coffee. They seem pretty bored waiting for your ass to show up. You want them to start interviewing Connie and her gang of gossips?”

  “You need to control your own story,” Ashley says. “I’ll go chat them up first. I’m thinking we play off the idea of an exclusive interview. Start local with one station and go from there.”

  “What about Cari?” Why am I asking about her?

  “What about her?”

  “This story is as much about her as it is me.”

  Ashley and Jonah have a short, silent conversation with their eyebrows. “Depends on the angle. Is she going to throw you under some bus?”

  I think about it for a minute. “I don’t think so.”

  “Let’s bring her into the loop. Give her a call while I chat up the squatters.”

  Shit. “I don’t have her number. I drove up to her place last night to get it and forgot.”

  “Got distracted?” Jonah nods. “Can’t blame you.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “I think Hailey has it. Text her and get it. Whatever you do, don’t have Cari show up here. Not until we send the camera crew packing.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I salute Ashley.

  “Stay put.” She shuts the door behind her.

  “Your sister’s scary.”

  “Tell me about it.” Jonah leans back in his chair. “Her intensity comes in handy for situations like these.”

  “Thanks for calling her.” I sit in my chair.

  “I know you’d do the same for me if my naked assets went viral.”

  “I’ve been afraid to look online today.”

  He types my name into Google. Gomez is the first site.

  “I’m waiting for him to show up with roses for you.”

  “Maybe I need to make a statement I’m straight.”

  “You think that’ll stop anything? Those who want to believe you’re gay will think you protest too much. It’s a no-win situation.”

  “I could get a girlfriend.” I look at the door. “What about Ashley?”

  “No way. You’re not dating my sister. Plus, she already has a role to play in this debacle.”

  “Do you think a girlfriend would help?”

  “You can’t rent a woman to be your girlfriend. Who are you going to call?”

  Thanks to my dry spell, no one comes to mind. Except one woman.

  No way.

  Not if she were the last woman alive on the island. Or Earth.

  Ashley knocks on the door a second before opening it.

  “I have a plan.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve Cari being my girlfriend, I’ll do anything you suggest.”

  “Who said anything about Cari?” Jonah raises an eyebrow.

  “Are you and Cari hooking up?”

  “No!” My denial is louder than I anticipated.

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Jonah smirks. “You protest too strongly and people are going to ask more questions.”

  I clamp my teeth together so tight a muscle in my jaw flutters.

  “Focus,” Ashley says. “I told King7 you will speak to them for two minutes. You think you can handle not being a freak for two minutes? This is what you need to say.”

  I’m partially listening to her talk about spontaneity and the pressures of building a coffee empire. I nod and agree when she pauses. I have no idea what I’m agreeing to because the whole time Ashley speaks, I’m wondering how the words Cari and girlfriend came out of my mouth together.

  “Got it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Nothing about your personal life. Focus on the business. Cabo. Spontaneity. Passion for life. Do not say a word about Cari.”

  “Why am I protecting her?”

  “Focus! Short and sweet. Charm them. Flirt, but don’t come off lecherous.”

  “When have I ever been lecherous?” I give her my best wink and grin.

  “Don’t do that. Ever.”

  “Now, let’s do this.” She stands and walks out of the office.

  “Dead man walking,” Jonah shouts behind me as I follow Ashley down the hall.

  “How does it feel to be the most famous ass in the world? What’s more exciting? To be confused for Justice Booker or to be famous on your own?”

  “I don’t know. My life hasn’t changed. I’ve been focused on Whidbey Joe and growing a sustainable, fair trade—”

  She cuts me off with more questions.

  “Can you tell us what you were thinking that day in Cabo? Are you typically an exhibitionist? Have you ever gone streaking before? Or been arrested for public indecency?”

  Sylvia Romesco fires her questions at me like Nerf pellets. Bap, bap, bap.

  I blink and try to remember the first question she asked so I can answer them in order. “I was on vacation with my brother and we wanted to go cliff diving. My suit—”

  “So you’re an exhibitionist and a dare-devil. The ladies must love you. We do love a bad boy.”

  “I’m not an exhibitionist.”

  “What does your family think of your sudden fame? I bet it’s quite a shock to turn on the TV and see all this.”

  “My—”

  “Do you have a girlfriend or are you more of a play the field kind of guy?”

  “I—” Forget getting a word or two in before she shoots the next question at me. I’m limited to one syllable. I can’t even answer yes or no because I don’t know what I’d be agreeing or disagreeing with.

  “Are you currently single? I’m sure our female viewers want to know if they have a chance with you. Come on, give us the scoop.”

  Behind the bright lights for the camera, I see Ashley roll her eyes and shake her head. “Focus on the business,” she mouths.

  I make an awkward chuckle and try to c
over it with a cough, which only makes me sound like a dirty old man. “I’m focused on Whidbey Joe right now with my partner Jonah.”

  Ashley waves her hands in a gesture I can’t read.

  Sylvia’s eyes light up. “Oh. I see.”

  I blink at her. Oh. “My business partner Jonah. Not life partner.”

  “I know some of our viewers will be thrilled to hear this news.”

  What? What news? I go back over my words. Partner. Life partner.

  Ashley slices her hand across her neck and waves her hands in front of her.

  “My sexuality has nothing to do with coffee.”

  What nonsense is coming out of my mouth right now? How did I get here?

  “Oh, we’re not judging you on your lifestyle.”

  Lifestyle.

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that. Some of our best customers are LGBT.” I can hear myself sounding like an asshole, but I can’t stop speaking. “I have gay friends. Lesbians too. I support all sexualities, genders, and creeds.”

  I don’t even know what creed means.

  “That’s great. Well, thank you for your time today.” She faces the camera and starts doing her sign off spiel. “Sylvia Romesco, here on Whidbey Island today with Erik Kelso, aka the man behind the famous behind. Thanks for chatting with King7 first, Erik.”

  “That’s a wrap,” the cameraman says, simultaneously dimming the bright lights.

  “Wait, can we redo that? I don’t think I came across like myself.”

  Sylvia gives me a bored look. “It was live. There are no do-overs on live news.”

  “What about another segment? I’d love to talk about our coffee more. Focus on how we help farmers and the environment.”

  Her stare is still bored, but also confused now. “What does that have to do with your butt? That’s all anyone cares about.”

  I scowl at being the subject of sexism. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  “I’m sure the women viewers will be disappointed you’re gay, but we have a large gay viewership. Larry our meteorologist is a vocal advocate.”

  “Larry is gay?” Poor Connie.

  “Oh, do you have a crush on Larry? I can introduce you. He’s the Grand Marshal for the Pride parade this year. Oh! I bet he’d love it if you join him. Maybe you can be an honorary marshal. How fun would that be for you?”

  What’s the opposite of fun? I’m never going to date again.

  “I’m not gay. Not that there is anything wrong with being gay.”

  “Of course not. Being in the closet is so twentieth century.”

  “That’s all for today.” Ashley stumbles over a cable on her way to me. She sounds out of breath and her hair is a mess.

  Sylvia sighs. “Why is it the cute ones with the great bodies always end up being on the other team?”

  “I’m not—”

  Ashley’s hand over my mouth silences me. Sylvia gives us another bored glance.

  “Say good-bye and walk away,” Ashley whisper-threats against my ear.

  “Thanks for stopping by,” I manage to say before Ashley shoves me toward the warehouse.

  I crash down into my chair so hard it spins. “That was a disaster.”

  She’s covering her mouth and I can see the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

  “Are you crying? Shit. Was it that bad?”

  A howling cackle bursts out of her when she moves her hand. “You basically married Jonah on live TV.”

  She continues cackling like a banshee. “My brother is going to kill you.”

  “Maybe being openly gay business owners will open a new market segment for us.” Jonah calmly walks into the office and leans against my desk.

  “I’m not pretending to be gay. It’s the twenty-first century. We’d be crucified for faking it.”

  “You’re probably right.” Jonah knocks on the desk twice. “Plus, you’re too pretty to be my type.”

  “Hardly. I’d never be with a hipster like you.” I shove away from him in my chair.

  Layla knocks on the wall next to the door, interrupting our pointless argument over which one of us is too good for the other. “Erik? Dan’s here to see you. He’s out front.”

  “Dan?”

  “From Sal’s?”

  “Wonder what he wants.” I follow her to the café.

  “Hey, Dan. Want a coffee?” I step behind the counter.

  “Americano.”

  The espresso machine whirs to life.

  “I didn’t stop by for a coffee. Saw something of interest on the news this morning.”

  “My naked ass?”

  “Hell of a thing to wake up to.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Saw the King7 truck pull out of here as I arrived. The vultures lurking around?”

  “They were. I just finished the world’s worst interview. They got what they wanted and left.”

  “World’s worst? Did you drop some F-bombs and show your ass?”

  I chuckle and finish his coffee. “No. Worse. I think I outed myself and Jonah as gay.”

  Dan’s dark eyebrows head north to his salt and pepper hair. “How’d you manage that?”

  I explain the barrage of questions and not being able to clarify or get in more than a syllable at a time most of the interview.

  “I might know a thing or two about handling publicity.” Frowning, Dan sets his cup on the counter.

  “Dealt with a lot of press while running a small town pizza joint, have you?” I don’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

  “Believe it or not, I had a life before moving to the island.”

  “A life requiring a publicist?” I dig.

  “Corporate America is cut-throat. I know people who know people.”

  “Like a pizza mafia?”

  “There is no such thing as a pizza mafia. But I do have connections.”

  “To organized crime?”

  “To the media. Want me to get the story pulled before it airs tonight? I can make a couple of phone calls. Get you a new interview.”

  “Really? You’d do that for me? Shit. Sylvia said it was live and already aired.”

  Dan’s gaze focuses on the wall above my head. “Before ten a.m.? That’s bullshit. She missed the morning show and it’s too early for the midday news. She might air a teaser, but I’m guessing they’ll go for a longer segment tonight. Milk it for all it’s worth.”

  “You’re going to need media training. Ashley’s over her head with the on camera interviews. They’ll keep firing away questions hoping to catch you off guard to get a scoop out of you. I’d recommend you avoid any press. Do you need it?”

  “Jonah thinks it’s good for the business.”

  “If you can tie in the notoriety, then I agree with him. Otherwise your ass is a distraction.”

  “I’m fine with never being in front of a camera again.” I lean against the back counter.

  “The trick will be keeping everyone else from sharing their favorite Erik stories. How many skeletons do you have in your closet?”

  “Skeletons?”

  “Dark secrets. Former girlfriends. Secret gay lovers.”

  “We’re not gay.” Jonah stomps through from the kitchen. “If we were, Erik wouldn’t be my type. He’s too pretty.”

  Dan snorts and hides it behind sipping his coffee.

  “Now if Cari is interested, that’s a different story.” Jonah gives me a smug grin.

  “Who’s Cari?”

  “The photographer. She’s here on the island.”

  “Why?” Dan asks.

  “I have no idea, but she’s renting a place in Greenbank and sticking around.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does she want?”

  “No clue.”

  “So you haven’t seen her or spoken with her?”

  “I’ve seen her. She showed up here first.”

  “She’s super hot.” Jonah gr
ins.

  “Not really important, Jonah.”

  “Hmm,” Dan says. “You need to talk to her. Figure out her angle. She’s either a liability or an asset.”

  Jonah snorts.

  I roll my eyes to the ceiling and count the knots in the pine boards. “You sound like Hailey.”

  “You already got this advice and ignored it? I can’t help you if you’re not willing to help yourself.”

  I’m pretty sure he said those words about my dad. Am I as big of a mess as him?

  “Fine.” I pull out my phone and text Hailey for Cari’s number.

  “Okay, my work here is done.” Dan slaps the edge of the counter twice with his palms. “I’ll make some phone calls and get someone to handle the local media. Don’t talk to anyone else you don’t know. And trust. Let me know what Cari says.”

  “Can you muzzle Connie and her lady gang of gossips?”

  “That’s going to take one of you islanders. I’ve only been here for five years. I’m too much of an outsider.”

  After he leaves, I turn to Jonah. “What do you know about Dan?”

  “Not much. How is he going to ‘handle’ your interview disaster?”

  “He has connections.”

  “Pizza mafia? Tom swears one exists.”

  “Dan denies it. He mentioned something about corporate American and knowing how to handle these things.”

  We both raise our eyebrows and frown.

  “Probably best to not ask too many questions and let him help.”

  “If he can’t get the interview pulled, you can be my co-marshal of the Pride parade.”

  Jonah tosses a bar towel at me. He has better aim than Cari and it hits the side of my head before I can duck.

  A text chirps on my phone. Hailey.

  *About time.*

  Followed by a phone number.

  Time to be an adult.

  Hey pretty ladies. I have some good news/bad news. We’ve located Hot Ass Guy and word is he’s even better looking from the front! Bad news is he’s playing hard to get and not giving interviews.

  Who wants to take a road trip to Washington with me? I hear the only way to get to him is by ferry. <<< Seriously. Can’t make this stuff up, girls. Is this a sign he plays for my team and not yours? Could my dreams come true? Who’s buying the road snacks and splitting a tank of gas with me?

 

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