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by K. M. Jackson


  Aidan stilled, his mind quickly jumping to haunted places where he didn’t want it to go. Pointedly, he shook them off, then bent over to pick up the camera, thankful he’d had the foresight to let it down easy and protect it when he hit the ground. “Yeah, and look where it’s gotten me,” he let out on a low breath. “Let’s just say I’ve learned my lesson. Mark me down as reformed.”

  Carter’s voice was lower now, as if he knew the dark journey Aidan’s mind had gone on because he’d traveled there too. “Well, she signed up for the show, so that makes her fair game. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  Aidan easily slung the heavy camera onto his broad shoulder. He shook his head. “Fair game? What is she, an animal to be hunted? This is no game, and nothing about it is fair. Now you’re sounding like my father. Be careful my friend, you’re getting close to making a full transition into a first-class pompous ass. Turn away from the dark side. Stay with us in the light.”

  Carter laughed nervously and straightened his already straight tie. “Hey, don’t go hitting below the belt. You’re sounding like you’re speaking out of Vin’s mouth. I’m just working to give the people what they want, and that’s good business.”

  Aidan scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what those on the dark side all say to justify the unjustifiable.”

  Carter shook his head and looked down the hall toward where Eva stomped off.

  “Enough about that. It is time to talk damage control, and that little lady and her not so little fit may have given us just what we need to take our ratings to the top and finally pass those blowhards over at CBN and The Morning Perk.”

  Aidan felt something in his chest tighten, and his stomach did a flip as he met Carter’s piercing gaze with a challenging stare. Shit. For some reason, he felt the need to cover his balls all over again.

  Chapter 4

  The buzzing of her cell jolted Eva out of her sleep. Squinting, she looked at her bedside clock and frowned. Oh God. It was already well past nine, and the last thing she remembered was throwing a chopstick at the TV as a late-night host made a joke about her Morning Show meltdown. Maybe taking her best friend Cori’s well-meaning advice of celebrating her newfound freedom with champagne and the comfort of a new man wasn’t the best idea. Though she hadn’t gone so far as to hunt out a one-night stand, she went full on with Cori’s suggestion of the bubbly and uncharacteristically drank alone. Declining Cori’s offer to come over and share in her misery and bubbles, Eva ensured her friend that she was fine, only exhausted over it all. And as for the man part of the advice, that was taken care of by delivered General Tsos from the Chinese restaurant down the block and her dusted-off nightstand playmate, Mr. Motivator. Or would have been if she’d gotten some use out of him in the past year and his batteries weren’t dead. Seems the day was just full of disappointing male members.

  Eva let out a sigh. Maybe she should have let Cori come over and possibly lend her a bit more backbone. They could have gone over to Kev’s place and done a bit of tag team ass kicking. At least give him a good tell off. Thinking back, though her friend was loyal to a fault and followed the girl code of not outwardly bashing her choice of mate, she knew Kevin wasn’t high on Cori’s list of favorite people. And Eva knew that if she were seeing things through Cori’s jade-colored lenses, she probably would have had her eyes opened sooner and seen Kevin for what he was up to before she had ever stepped foot on that studio’s set and made a complete ass of herself. No matter. Done was done, and she had to deal with it. She told Cori she’d make a point to see her before she left for work. Another thought that brought Eva’s spirits low was that her friend was about to be off sailing the globe, living the carefree life, at least for a while, working for a luxury cruise company. Eva smiled, though. Knowing Cori, there would be a new man in every port. There was no way Cori was getting tied down by—let her tell it—a ridiculous convention like marriage.

  Thinking back, the joke the comedian made last night was kind of funny and would be downright hilarious to her if it wasn’t at her expense. Besides, Cori was right. All this would blow over, and she’d be yesterday’s news soon enough.

  The phone buzzed again, and Eva moaned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so hard or so deep. It must have had something to do with washing down that last bit of chicken with half a bottle of Prosecco. Ignoring the phone, Eva stretched her body long, arched her back, and kicked her legs out, exploring the delicious coolness of the sheets on the right side of the bed. Inching toward the middle, she rolled onto her back and stretched wider still, making an X shape. Her long limbs just about hit all four corners of the mattress at once. She smiled. Oddly, it felt kind of good to wake up alone for a change. Kevin was a notorious space and cover hog, not to mention he made a lot of noise when he got up for his six AM sessions with his trainer. She hated to admit it, but this, she thought, reaching over and caressing the empty space where the indent from Kevin’s body used to be, this maybe she could get used to.

  The buzzing started again, and Eva turned once more, her face hit with a hard shaft of sunlight, causing her to squint. She pushed her leg arc out wide and let out a long sigh before quickly pulling her leg back in again, tight to her body, the coolness now giving her a surprising chill, reminding her that having the bed all to herself came at a price.

  Reaching over to the side of the bed, Eva picked up the phone to look at the caller ID, now more than half hoping it was Kevin calling to apologize, saying he’d come back to his senses and was ready to make amends. It wasn’t. A knot immediately clenched up in her belly as she saw her mother’s office number. Of course it was her. She’d want to see how she was this morning, but also she’d want answers. Answers to questions that Eva knew she did not have. Not to mention, what could she say to placate her mother after her horrendous public meltdown? They were a PR firm, for goodness sake. Image was everything with them. And not even when her mother had been through her worst with her father and his death did she let it show through to the rest of the world. No, she took her lumps and shed her tears in private and, in the process, taught Eva how to be strong in the face of what seemed an unimaginable heartbreak and embarrassment. And here she was, her only daughter, her legacy, and with a five-minute TV segment and a muttered line from a guy who probably wasn’t worth the effort she’d put in, she’d gone off and lost it. Though she didn’t want to face it, part of Eva knew that whatever questions or perhaps disappointment her mother directed her way was warranted.

  She’d ask if she and Kev had been having troubles. No, nothing beyond the usual. Or so she thought. She’d want to know how come Eva didn’t see this coming. She’d also want to know what her plans were to fix this and get her reputation—and, more importantly, the firm’s reputation—back on track. All perfectly fine queries, to which, at the moment, Eva had no answers. It wasn’t like Kevin was blowing up her phone or knocking down her door or even using his key to come in and apologize, ask for her back, or at least give her a valid reason for why he broke up with her on national TV. No, it seemed he was just . . . done. No calls, texts, or last-minute chase-downs with words of love or begging her forgiveness. Eva guessed he had said all he had to say on the air yesterday. And all his talk of love, well, that was the past. Mere words said when emotions needed to be manipulated.

  The phone buzzed again, and this time Eva looked down and saw from the caller ID that it was her mother’s assistant, Lance. She shook her head. So Mom was switching tactics. She knew Eva wouldn’t ignore Lance forever since her mom would have him calling every five minutes on the minute until she picked up. She might as well get this over with and put the poor guy out of his misery. Eva swiped him over.

  “Yes, Lance.”

  “Nope. I’m perfectly fine. Just running a bit late.”

  “Tell her majesty I’ll be in shortly.”

  “No, I don’t need you to send a car, but thank you.”

  Rolling over, she closed her eyes and treated herself to sixty more s
econds of peace and quiet before the inevitable avalanche to come.

  * * *

  What am I doing here? Aidan’s gut told him this was wrong, but still he was here. Fighting against the tight collar that gripped his neck, he finally gave in and ripped off the offending tie, shoving it into his suit pocket. The cute redheaded receptionist didn’t even try to hide her smirk as she peered at him and Carter over the top of her sleek maple workstation. Aidan gave her a smile and took a moment to let his mind do its usual wanderings when taken in by a pretty woman, but his smile quickly changed to a frown when all that came up was the image of smooth caramel skin and creamy white pearls.

  He ran his hands through his now shorter hair, cropped just this morning for today’s meeting. What the hell? What was he doing thinking about her? Again. It was bad enough that he’d barely gotten a moment’s rest last night, playing and then replaying their awful first meeting and that surprisingly seductive kiss that she’d hit him with. Still, it was maddening. Updos and twinsets were definitely not his type. Besides, he knew what sort of trouble she and her pearls were. Shit, he was just now getting proper feeling back to his nether regions and planned to keep them out of her knee range at all costs. So once again that brought up the question: What was he doing here?

  “Really, man? You can’t keep it together and look good for an hour?” Carter said from his side, bringing Aidan’s thoughts back to the matter at hand. Aidan let his eyes sweep to his friend, who looked completely comfortable in his sharply tailored suit, tie notched just right as he sat casually perched on the reception area’s most uncomfortable white leather couch.

  “I’m fine. And it’s not like I need a tie to take this meeting or look good.” Carter’s subtle nod let him know he had him there. But still he was uncomfortable, and it had nothing to do with his attire. “Honestly, it’s not like you need me here. You can handle the pitch yourself. It’s bad enough you wrangled me into this idea of yours.”

  “Wrangled?” Carter said, his brows drawing together. “Aren’t you the convenient revisionist? When I told you the segment idea and suggested Rick Lancer for the lead producer, you practically jumped at the chance to take over and handle it yourself. So now you’ve got it. It’s all yours, boss.”

  Aidan frowned at the mention of Rick, the self-proclaimed “reality king’s” name. “I don’t like being played, Carter, and you know as well as I do that calling out Rick was a play to pull me in. After what I said about not wanting to use her footage and being exploited by the show, you knew there was no way I’d let a snake like Rick within a hundred feet of the job. The man would chew her up, then spit her out, leaving her with no meat left on the bone.”

  “Yeah, but it would all make for great TV, and that’s what we’re after right now. Ratings. It’s what the network needs.”

  Aidan let out a frustrated breath as Carter shook his head and continued. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. It’s as if you’ve gone soft. We’re in the TV business here, not the hand-holding business, and you’re home now, not on the battlefield. That female firecracker in pearls does not need saving.” Aidan shot Carter a look with his last comment, and Carter tempered his next words. “Besides, I now have to fill three hours a morning with news. And barring, God forbid, a war on our shores, there is not enough real news to go around.” Carter put his fingers up and did air quotes. “And there is only so much breaking news one can do on the latest celebrity meltdown. We’ve got to get creative.”

  Aidan shifted. “Fine, I hear you, but celebs are one thing. It’s a different story when we screw over real people.”

  Carter gave him a hard look. “You know as well as do I that she stopped being a real person as soon as she signed that waver.” He smiled. “Besides. She’s in PR. She knows the ropes. We’re not dealing with a wounded bird here. If anyone should be wounded, it’s you. She gave it to you good.”

  Aidan crossed his legs and groaned. “Don’t remind me. That she sure did.”

  But despite his words, he was still torn. More than anything, he wanted to walk away—to steer as far afield from this project as he could, continue his getting-to-know-you company tour—but something wouldn’t let him do it. When Carter told him his idea to keep up the pressure and to train a spotlight on the literally ball-busting Eva Ward, at first he had laughed. Stupidly, he had even chimed in with thoughts on the concept, a fast-paced dating show, something to make her follow through on her final words about still getting married anyway as she’d stormed out of the studio. But he should have known that Carter would pounce right on it, quickly calling in a production team to work up ideas and then wanting to name Rick Lancer as lead on-site producer.

  But as soon as Aidan heard Rick’s name, something in him wouldn’t let it lie. Rick was a notorious life-ruiner. A real piece of work. A part-time body builder and full-time ass. Rick made no secret about his womanizing ways, and for some reason just the thought of him in close quarters with the hot-lipped ice princess instantly sent Aidan’s blood boiling. Like her or not, she’d been through enough and didn’t deserve the likes of Rick invading her space. So before he knew it, Aidan was stepping up to take the lead on a project that was out of his new normal of war zones and guns, and would have him playing backseat matchmaker to a woman in whom he’d literally met his match. Just by being here and entertaining the idea, he probably deserved every bit of busting he got from Carter on this one. Since it was business and Carter was getting what he wanted out of him, his old friend was keeping it to a minimum, but Aidan was sure it was coming. Carter knew him too well, and there was no way he’d let a good riffing opportunity lie.

  Aidan was sure he’d been played. Hell, if he was honest, he was probably getting played by Carter yesterday when he just so happened to have him on the set when it all went down. It had all worked out a little too well, and Carter gave in way too easily and agreed in less time than it took for him to zone in on the perfect tie at Brooks Brothers. Oh well, screw it. What was done was done. At least now if she agreed and the project went through, he could be sure the ice princess came out of this ordeal without too many dings or chips. And he’d be sure to protect himself from getting run over in the process.

  Snapping back to the moment, Aidan saw a tall, broad-bodied dude with dark skin and even darker eyes, who looked like he could be bouncing at any of the city’s toughest clubs, come out to the reception area and give the saucy redhead a wide smile. He then turned toward Carter and Aidan, and the smile instantly vanished. “If you gentleman would follow me, Ms. Ward will see you now.”

  Carter shot up and gave the guy a broad smile. “After you, my good man!”

  The big guy leveled him with a stony gaze. Yep, definitely bouncer material.

  Aidan got up slowly; frowning, he resisted wiping his sweaty palms on his suit pants. He never sweated unless he was about to get into a tight spot, and right now, going up against Valerie Ward, Eva’s mother, he had a feeling he was about to do just that.

  * * *

  Eva stepped into the elevator of the Parker Building on Madison Avenue, where the Ward Group’s branding and PR consulting offices were housed. She immediately noticed the dawn of recognition in the eyes of one of the riders, a petite strawberry-blonde, who at first looked wide-eyed, and then that awful cloud of sympathy washed over her features, causing Eva’s stomach to churn at the same time as her anger bubbled up. Dammit! She’d been getting that look all morning, and she was frankly over it. First her doorman, then the barista at her favorite coffee shop, not to mention the look from all the other patrons. Hell, they were just finally getting her coffee order right. Would she really have to now switch to the other Starbucks all the way up the street a whole block and a half away? And then there was the cabdriver.

  Eva twisted her coffee cup as she pointedly tried to break eye contact with the blonde and looked toward the closing doors, catching her reflection in the shiny chrome. It will be fine, she told herself. Outwardly she was the same as she had been
the day before. She chose her slim gray pants and white silk blouse carefully. She put her hair up in a smooth chignon, and her face looked flawless, with just the right balance of understated makeup. On any other day, she would blend in perfectly with the bustling New York morning crowd. Shifting her satchel in the crook of her arm, then looking up into the polished chrome’s reflection, she caught the hint of defeat in her weary brown eyes. Just not on this day.

  Eva looked back down and pretended to concentrate on the coffee cup’s familiar siren logo, then ran her hand along the edge, tracing the cover’s rim. The sight of her now bare left ring finger caused her to pause, as she swallowed down on the simmering anger that was threatening to rise. The ring of her dreams currently sat idle in a silver dish on her dresser. Cold and alone, a diamond sparkling with no one to sparkle for. It somehow seemed an affront against her beliefs and the god of good jewelry that it should be there twinkling all alone and not on her finger being admired, as it should.

  She thought once again of how Kevin had not called since the show. Coward. Maybe she should have changed the locks on her apartment before coming in to work. Thinking it over now, leaving the ring where she did was probably not the best idea. She wouldn’t put it past Kevin’s wimpy behind to try and sneak into her place to gather his few belongings when he knew she was at work. He was never big on confrontations, which is what made the TV breakup so surprising, and then again maybe not so much. She was sure he wasn’t expecting her to go off like she did. It was probably his version of a restaurant breakup. A way to keep it public and minimize the scene. Eva let out a snort. A lot of good that did. Right now it would have been kinder if he’d sent her a text or at least gone old school Sex and the City and broken up with her with a Post-it or something equally impersonal.

  Eva stared at her finger and made a mental note to call her doorman and put Kevin on the no-entry list. She’d be dammed if he got that ring back after what he’d done. And besides, she paid for half the damn ring anyway. Not that anyone but she and Kevin knew that. How embarrassing would it be if that news got out? And she was thought of as a sad case now. If folks knew that, she’d be positively tragic. Kevin took her to pick out her ring, and when she did, he steered her toward less-expensive, flawed diamonds. As if starting off their life together with a flawed symbol of commitment was acceptable. What a fool she was, listening to his crap about the ring not mattering, all the while happily picking out the best of everything when it came to himself.

 

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