There was a soft tap on her shoulder, and unfortunately the sigh escaped her lips before Eva could stop it. Damn. The strawberry blonde. She knew it was a mistake to let her emotions show, but Eva had been stopped four times already that morning. Just how many people really did watch that stupid morning show? Weren’t they supposed to be number two in the ratings? She shook her head. First it was Carlos the doorman, giving his kind regrets over Kevin. Then it was the old woman with the two poodles who stopped her not two seconds later to tell her that she had an eligible grandson. Next, it was the girl at Starbucks, who gave her loud condolences over the espresso machine, while the rest of the coffee shop nodded and looked at her like she was terminally ill. All she wanted was a coffee, light with an extra shot, extra sweet, hold the comments. Was that too much to ask? The topper was the cab driver—she didn’t have the heart to jump on public transportation today—who pronounced what Kevin did as foul-assed and low-down in his thick Caribbean accent. Eva just gave a polite nod. She wouldn’t voice it, but she had to agree on that one. When Eva asked the driver if he had watched the show, he said no, but he got to see the highlights when his daughter showed him the YouTube clip.
Perfection. She was going viral.
There was another tap on her shoulder, and Eva braced herself as she turned around and gave an innocent smile to the strawberry-blond woman looking at her like the second coming of Jennifer Aniston or something.
“It is you! I knew it,” the woman said, her voice echoing off the steel-paneled walls. “It was awful what he did to you. I’m sure it was going to be a beautiful wedding. I voted for you two, you know.”
“Um, thanks?” What else was she supposed to say? The other three people in the elevator all stared at her now. She turned back and watched the floor numbers light up. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen.
“It was just terrible,” the woman continued loudly over her shoulder. “Did you really have no clue? I mean, really, not a clue that he would dump you like that on national TV?”
Eva bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. She could feel the eyes of the other passengers boring into the back of her head. Her face began to flame. Fifteen, sixteen. The woman tapped her again. “I said, did you really have no clue?”
Eva turned around. Fighting to keep a tight rein on her simmering temper and feeling tears threaten, she thought of her image and how she needed to focus on rebuilding it before she spoke. “No, um, I didn’t.”
The blonde shook her head. “Wow. Who would have guessed? And here I was thinking all these reality shows were scripted. It kinda renews my faith.”
Ding. Nineteen. Thank God. Eva let out a breath and smiled broadly at the woman. “Well, I’m glad my downfall helped.” The woman’s face fell in confusion as Eva stepped off the elevator. “To restore your faith in television, that is.”
“Um, thanks!” the woman yelled at her back as the doors closed and Eva stepped into the waiting area of the Ward Group, only to be greeted by the open arms and lush bosom of Kimberly, the receptionist, as she ran around her desk and pulled her into an uncomfortable hug.
“There, there now. You’re going to be fine,” Kim said, petting her like one might a fallen toddler with a scraped knee.
“Oh, I know I will be fine,” Eva said. “You, on the other hand, may lose that hand if you don’t stop petting me like that.”
Chapter 5
Kim pulled back abruptly, her hands holding tight to Eva’s upper arms as she looked up into her eyes. “Aww, what a brave girl you are.”
Eva fought not to roll her eyes and instead inserted her coffee and purse firmly between herself and Kim. She’d had it with the pity. It got old, and fast. “Thanks, Kim. I’m fine really. No need to worry about me. It’s onward and upward,” she said, extracting herself from the woman’s surprisingly strong grasp.
Kim gave her a shaky smile, and for a moment, Eva was afraid she might actually burst into tears. “That’s the way. You hang in there. What a trooper you are,” Kim sniffed out. “But, hey, you told him, and good. And I’m sure you’re right, you will find someone else. You won’t end up a sad statistic. Filling out endless online dating profiles, constantly getting swiped left, then moving back in with your mom because your roommate moved out and you can’t find anyone else to cover their half of the rent, all the while your boyfriend of eight years still won’t commit because he says he doesn’t want to be held down.” On the word down, Kim let out a little choked cry, and she reached over the desk, going for a tissue, and blew her nose loudly.
So this is the day that just keeps on giving. Eva felt all her muscles go tight and seem to bunch up at once into her shoulders and neck area. Feeling the tables turn, she gave Kim an awkward pat on the arm, not quite comfortable getting too close to the overly emotional receptionist. “Are you all right? Hey, it’s not so bad. As they say, plenty of fish and all.”
Kim blinked, then gave Eva a surprised look as if she didn’t quite get Eva’s try at sympathy. She chuckled and waved her hand before letting out a delicate snort. “Oh no, I’m fine. It’s you that got dumped on TV. Frankly, I’d be mortified. The way I see it, I’m sitting pretty good right now.”
Eva threw her a sharp look and a cocked brow. “Well, okay then, thanks for the reminder. Glad I’m still the winner in the ‘sucks to be me’ contest of life. Now can we move on? Here’s the rule. It’s over and done. I don’t want to hear about Kevin, the show, or how sorry anyone is. I’m fine. I’m back, and I’m ready to move on. So how about you get on the phone and get to passing that message through the wires. Okay?”
Kim blinked harder this time before fumbling back to her desk area. “Um, sure, so I guess you don’t want these messages left for you yesterday. They’re mostly about . . . you know what.”
When Eva maintained a stony silence, Kim swallowed, then nodded. “So maybe I should throw them away or pass them on to your assistant?”
Eva put her coffee cup on the receptionist station and took the pile of messages. It wasn’t Kim’s fault she was in this mess, so it was no use taking it out on her. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take them. So many, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Most of the calls did go to Jess, and I would have put these through to your voice mail, but I knew you probably didn’t want to deal with listening to most of them, so I just routed them this way and took them myself.”
Eva gave Kim a weak smile. Annoying or not, she was trying to help. There were so many messages, all contacts that had her direct line, and Kim had gone above and beyond in taking the messages for her. “Thanks, you didn’t have to. You could have routed it all to Jess.”
“Oh, believe me, she’s had her hands plenty full. Her line has been ringing nonstop. Your clients have not stopped calling. It’s been all hands on deck around here. Oh, and about that,” Kim continued, lowering her voice enough to make her whispered tone more pronounced. “Valerie is waiting for you in her office. She said you should see her as soon as you got in.”
Eva nodded. This was anticipated. Of course her mother had summoned her. She was surprised she’d patiently waited until she’d gotten into the office. She’d half expected her to use her emergency key and come barging in on her while she was still in bed last night or this morning. It wouldn’t be the first time she made herself more than at home in Eva’s space. But since she hadn’t, maybe things weren’t as bad as Eva imagined them to be.
Eva felt her heart pick up to trotter speed. Who was she fooling? Of course they were.
Her mother was probably out of her mind by now. She’d been after Eva to find the perfect man and get married for as long as she could remember. It was, Eva, thought, an odd and morbid aftereffect of Eva’s father passing away from an apparent heart attack brought on by the extreme physical exertion of a marathon sex session with his personal assistant after competing in a marathon road race with the New York Runners Society. Apparently, there were only so many marathons a middle-aged man could take.
Eva was onl
y twelve when the veil of her perfect world was torn down. But worse, she thought at times, that losing her father was the dramatic shift in Eva’s formerly carefree mother. It was as if all her mother’s joy was suddenly gone with this one—okay, so it probably was not one, given how dad seemed to have a string of assistants—awful betrayal, only to be replaced by the drive to become the perfect socialite and businesswoman.
Valerie Ward was obsessed with maintaining an air of outward excellence. She took over Eva’s father’s spot at the head of the Ward Group and turned it, and herself, into the face of exceptional perfection. And to that, her daughter, Eva, became just another extension, a part of the machine, and this misstep with Kevin was unacceptable. There was a plan. College, a year for travel, and then three years in the business while she was groomed. Then marriage to a perfectly moldable man that would finish off the perfect portrait, completing their family image. But with his on-air breakup, Kevin had not only ruined the plan, he had completely obliterated the plan. Much as Eva’s father had done to their family when he was carted out of that hotel room, as rumor had it, stiff as a board in all aspects of his anatomy and with his gym socks still on. Just humiliating.
Eva closed her eyes, then opened them again. The similarity of her and her mother’s public humiliations was not lost on her. She was sure her mother was probably right now waiting for her, though, poised and polished, with a new list of eligible candidates vetted to her standard and ready to wed. Onward and . . . well, just onward. Failure was not an option when it came to the Ward women. Never accept defeat, and never let them see you sweat.
It was with that motto in mind that Eva gathered her things and headed down the marble hall to start her day and face the music that was her mother, Valerie Ward.
* * *
The office’s exterior glass wall was set to dim, but Eva could see from the silhouettes that someone else was inside with her mother. She frowned, seeing that her mom’s burly assistant, Lance, was not perched outside in his usual gatekeeper position and couldn’t let her know who was inside. She hadn’t been aware of them having any early-morning client meetings scheduled.
Smoothing the front of her blouse, Eva knocked quickly three times on the glass door.
“Come in, Eva.”
At the command, Eva felt the instant beginnings of a frown. Of course someone would have called to tell Valerie she was on the way down—possibly Kim, or maybe even her own assistant. In the end, they all worked for Valerie, but going in there on the defensive was not the way to defuse the situation, and she knew it. Eva made a point to ease her features so that, she hoped, her expression was unreadable, especially when it was possible that clients were inside with her mother.
She saw her mother first, standing tall and commanding behind her desk in a vintage black and white abstract print wrap dress, her hair was pulled back tightly into her signature long, low ponytail. As always, she looked like she could either be about to do some sort of boardroom takeover or jet off for St. Barths at any moment. When it came to her globe-trotting mother and their exclusive list of clients, it was hard to say which might be the case. And it all worked for Val’s cool persona.
“Good morning,” Eva said with an outer confidence and smile she hoped hid her inner turmoil. “You wanted to see me, Mother?”
“Come in, Eva. I’d say you’ve kept us all waiting long enough. As I’m sure you know, we have quite a few things to iron out.”
It was on the drop of the collective ”us” that the two men seated opposite her mother’s desk turned around, and Eva’s perfectly poised but expertly expressionless smile sank. Still, it didn’t escape her notice that only one of the men stood. The other, Carter Bain, The Morning Show’s producer, stayed in his seat. As if he’d get up for anyone. Smug bastard. Eva let out a long breath through her nose. Why was she even surprised? Carter seemed the type that expected people to rise for him, not the other way around. The fact that the man he was with, the one standing, was there at all—and standing, no less—was what really took her by surprise. Especially since when she last saw the tall, dark-haired man, he was laid out on the floor, holding what she was sure were his aching balls and probably cursing her everyway but Sunday, though she hadn’t hung around for confirmation of that final part.
Eva’s eyes narrowed in on her past takedown. She hoped he wasn’t there to start more trouble. She saw a glimmer of a spark in his dark eyes and decided that he was there and with Carter, so of course he was. Briefly, she wondered if he was there to file some sort of charges. Talk damages. Bodily harm or some other such crap. That would be just what she needed on top of everything else, but with the spiral her life was currently on, she wouldn’t have been surprised. Eva shook her head. She never should have agreed to do that damned show in the first place. Her eyes swept from his dark glimmer down to Carter Bain’s unreadable gaze before she glanced back at her mother.
“What’s he doing here?” It didn’t matter which “he” her mother assumed at this point, since she didn’t care to see either of the men ever again.
“Eva, take a seat,” Valerie commanded. “Mr. Bain has been kind enough to come and see us today with an ingenious new show plan I think would be wonderful. Especially after all that, well, unpleasantness yesterday.”
Eva sucked in a lung full of much needed air. Perfect, and so perfectly Ward Group. Her future ripped out from under her, neatly summarized down to just one word—unpleasantness.
She gave them each a quick once-over before landing back on her mother. “Wonderful for who? Them, or our company? Because I seriously doubt anything he comes up with will be wonderful for me.”
“Miss Ward, won’t you please at least hear us out?” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Suddenly Chivalrous Cameraman moved to the side. He offered up his chair to her, and Eva felt her brows come further together and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge. He was a far cry from the way he had looked the day before, when he held the camera, capturing her private meltdown for the whole world to see. He was a lot more polished, and his hair was still a little long, but neater, though she hated to admit caring—or even looking, for that matter. Most of that delicious scruff was gone, low and tapered, but blessedly, just enough was left to be slightly dangerous. Gone were the jeans and the wrinkled white tee. In their place was a well-cut designer suit, expensive Italian loafers, and a white button-down, open at the neck and showing off his deeply tanned throat. Yes, he was very different today out of his work clothes.
“No, I think I’ll stand, thank you. I’m sure this meeting will be short, Mr.—”
“Walker. Aidan Walker.” His deep rich voice was smooth and commanding as he stated his name in that annoying, three-word Bond, James Bond kind of way. Still, it washed over Eva like a wave of silk, making every nerve in her body stand at attention as he held out his hand. But Eva stared at it for a beat before she looked back up into his eyes with newfound recognition.
She felt her brows go up as embarrassment brought heat to her cheeks. “Of course you are.”
Shit. Aidan Walker. How could she not have recognized him immediately? Especially since media relations and PR were her job. Practically her life. It didn’t matter that she was caught up in a wave of emotion yesterday. There was no excuse for being that far off her game that she didn’t recognize a man with his reputation. Eva felt slightly sick but fought to cover it. Talk about a pile-on. Did she really embarrass herself to all holy hell, and then kiss and maim Aidan Walker? She stared at Walker, and something in his gaze sparked again, zinging her and lighting a fuse.
That was it.
It was officially official that she had the worst taste in men. In business and in pleasure.
So it was bad boy Walker who was behind her public humiliation. Well, him and that asshole Kevin. But Carter was probably just Walker’s lackey. Everyone knew it was Walker’s father who was the head of WBC, and that made Aidan heir to the throne. And with his past history of taking risks and going too far, he should
have known better than anyone what a weapon the camera could be. He was always in and out of the news, getting into some scrape or another. He was a notorious celebrity hound. Known for doing anything to get the story in his early days, he’d gotten quite the reputation for getting into scrape after scrape with celebs. And no matter that he was supposedly reformed and now into hard news, his latest misstep had almost gotten him and his crew into some very hot water on the wrong side of the Turkish border.
Eva swallowed before speaking. “No, thank you, Mr. Walker, I’ll stand. Besides, I find this is my best angle. So what is it today? Is the camera hidden in your lapel or”—she looked around—“have you already tricked out my mother’s office with micro cameras? You’ve been known to employ less than aboveboard tactics to get what you want.”
As she made that comment, Eva not only saw a glimmer in his eye, but she thought she caught a spark. Fine. Maybe like her kick, it was hitting a little below the belt, but he was on her turf now, and like them she could play dirty too.
Walker leveled her with a challenging stare, then took a step back. Pulling his hand away, he walked over to the corner seating area and easily lifted one of the heavy chrome chairs and brought it over, taking a seat himself before looking back up at her. “No hidden cameras and nothing in my lapel. You also shouldn’t believe everything you read about me, Miss Ward. I’m honest when it comes to the way I handle a story. My methods may be unconventional, but I do what it takes.”
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