Her brain was a natural devil’s advocate. “You might have heard, but I’m sort of just getting out of a relationship that didn’t end so well,” Everly said dryly.
His eyes softened, and so did his tone. “You did. I know. I also know you’re one of the best producers I’ve met. Think outside the box here. If it were someone else, not you, what would you think of the idea?”
She’d think it was fun. Entertaining. She wanted to pace. The room was too hot, and her clothes were too tight. Heck, her skin felt confining.
“I’ll do it,” Stacey said.
Both Chris’s and Everly’s heads turned in her direction.
She smiled. “Why not? I like going on dates. I like people and socializing. I’m happy to let you foot the bill for me to eat at some fancy restaurants. I mean, I don’t have to marry the guy. There’s nothing that binds us together if we decide to go our separate ways after the six or seven weeks, right?”
Chris nodded, shifting his gaze back to Everly, but she looked to Stacey. Her heart filled with fierce gratitude. “I think I take it for granted how good a friend you are.” Stacey would do it, even though she feared serious commitments like Everly did an unannounced party.
Stacey smiled. “I love you. You know that.”
Chris cleared his throat, shifted in his seat. “I appreciate you being so supportive, Stacey. And that you guys are so close. Part of what makes you such a good team is your genuine friendship. But that won’t work.”
Everly nodded. He’d asked her to think outside the box—take herself out of the equation. If the audience fell for Everly’s story, they’d want to see it through. Part of her heart swelled with appreciation. The other part shriveled with worry that she knew she was really considering this. “He’s right,” Everly told Stacey quietly. Her voice was much calmer than her pulse.
Chris scooted his chair a little closer, and their knees accidentally brushed against each other. She sucked in a breath at the unexpected contact and the jolt of electricity that woke all her senses.
“The audience fell for you, Everly,” he said. “They want you to get your happily ever after.”
Hearing him say her name in that soft, almost whispered tone had a funny effect on her heart. It couldn’t decide if it wanted to race excitedly or slow to a responsible pace. It didn’t help her indecisive heart any that he’d said they’d fallen for her; she didn’t feel like she was someone anyone would fall for right at this particular moment. She felt like two people right now—one who thought this idea was great and another who feared having to actually go through with it.
“Can you give us a minute?” Stacey looked at Chris as she stood up and went to the door, opening it.
He didn’t answer; he just went through it, closing it behind himself.
Stacey came back and sat across from her, took her hands. “Hey. Look at me.”
Everly stared at her friend, who, clearly, had already bounced back from the effects of the explosion.
“This is your chance,” Stacey said.
Everly pulled her hands back so she could stand. Move. Something. She opted to be obtuse. She wanted Stacey’s thoughts. “My chance for what?”
“The list. Your rules. Ev, this is perfect. Doing this will check, like, every box.” Stacey stood up as well, her eyes bright with excitement. “Try something exciting outside your comfort zone? Check. Finding guys who get under that shell? Check. Awesome new segment? Hell yeah. Be bold? What’s bolder than this? Find your happy? Well, my birthday gift for you should have helped with that but, hey, double check. How was it, by the way?”
Everly laughed. “We aren’t discussing your birthday gift.”
Stacey’s eyes widened with absolute delight. “You tried it, didn’t you?”
Everly’s cheeks felt like red coals. “I didn’t say that. Could you focus? We could lose our jobs.”
“You didn’t have to say it, and I’ll say again—you’re welcome. We’re not going to lose our jobs. You’re going to do this. You know you are.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Everly eyed Stacey. “How do you know what I’m going to do?”
Stacey pointed at her, the teasing expression gone. “You love your job. If we’d come up with this for someone else, we’d be calling ourselves geniuses. The fact that it comes at a time when you’re ready to slip into the driver’s seat of your own life is perfection.”
Unable to help herself, Everly tipped her head to one side. “According to Chandler Bing, it’s gum that is perfection.”
Stacey rolled her eyes, leaned against Chris’s desk. “No Friends references right now. We’ll get distracted.”
Everly looked down at her Converse. “You think I’ve been a passenger in my own life?”
She saw Stacey’s sexy-heel-clad feet step forward before her friend gripped her shoulders.
“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit or opportunity to show how badass you are. We’re about to kick our little show into the stratosphere. People love an underdog story, Ev. I know you don’t like the spotlight, but you deserve to shine. We can play this to our advantage and take what we want, what you want, out of it.”
Everly pulled away, pressed her hand to the center of her chest where it ached.
Stacey didn’t give up. “It’s like the universe looked at your list of rules and said, ‘I got this. Here you go.’”
Everly turned and stared at her. She was serious. Serious and really, freaking excited. “I can’t go out with a bunch of strangers.”
“Everyone is a stranger before you meet them.”
She rolled her eyes. “What if these guys are crazy? Murderers? Men with strange fetishes? Tax evaders?”
Stacey bit her bottom lip, and Everly knew she was trying not to laugh. “We will write it directly in the contract that all candidates must be screened and their tax histories must be available for review.”
Pulling in a shuddery breath, Everly sank back into the chair. “Next year, I am so staying home on my birthday.”
* * *
Hours later, Everly and Chris sat across from each other in his office. She read through the paperwork he’d had the legal department draw up outlining the expectations, parameters, and terms.
She glanced up through lowered lashes. He was typing something into his phone, a look of intense concentration making his brows push together and his forehead wrinkle. What kind of women did he date? Probably someone like Stacey—outgoing, voluptuous, confident. Not that it mattered. Despite the fact that they’d talked more today than … ever, it was still hard to completely relax in his presence. He’d be another man she could hold back from. Hide from. If she was going to do this, she wanted someone she could connect with on every level. Which means you have to unlock the doors to all your levels.
She cleared her throat. “Two dates a week instead of three.”
Chris looked up from his phone. “Okay. Can I ask why?”
She leaned back in the chair, rolled the pen she held between her thumb and index finger.
“Three is too much. I’m not an overly social person at the best of times, and this is going to be taxing on my…” Her what? How did she tell him that too much time around people, even though she could hold her own, was exhausting? That even though the idea of going out and having fun sounded good in theory, when it came down to actually doing it, she was less likely to back out if there wasn’t such a demand? It was one thing to have a busy week, but he was asking her to be busy for up to six weeks.
He set his phone down, not waiting for her to find an appropriate word. “No problem. I’ll have them change it. Anything else?”
“Three weeks instead of four. A total of six men. Going into week four, there will be three bachelors left. Listeners can vote for their favorite of the three, I’ll choose the second and that way, I’ll have two second dates in week four. Week five will be the announcement of which one I choose. Less stressful.” Sort of.
He considered this a moment
but she didn’t back down. She absolutely could not go on four second dates in one week and six weeks was a really long time. Longer than her relationship with Simon she had scheduled dates.
“Sure.” He gestured with his hand to keep going.
“I pick the places.”
“Done.”
“I have final say on the candidates.”
“Of course.”
“I only meet people at the chosen places. No one picks me up at my home.”
Chris folded his hands on the desktop. “Your safety will be the number-one priority. I want you to be as comfortable as possible, and I know the situation kind of pushes against that, but we’ll do whatever you need to make it work best for you. You’re the priority.”
There was something about the way he said it, his gaze on hers like there was an invisible string locking them together. She wanted to make a flippant comment about the ratings being the top priority, just to smooth out the jitters setting in. She didn’t, though, because the way he spoke, the way he looked, she knew that he meant what he said. Why the idea of him caring so much, so genuinely, made her feel light-headed, she did not know.
“I’m sorry that the other day complicated things, but I really believe this is going to be a win for all of us.”
“Especially if I don’t get fired,” she said, lifting her lips in a small smile.
“I don’t want to fire you. You’re excellent at your job,” Chris said.
Everly blinked rapidly and then looked down at the table, shuffled the papers together. “That’s nice of you to say.”
Chris’s hand covered Everly’s, and that flicker she’d felt earlier when just their knees touched seemed more like a flash fire when he left it there. No shields now. His gaze captivated her with its sharp focus, like he wanted to see deeper. More clearly. Or maybe he wanted her to be the one who looked a little further.
“I’m not in the habit of saying things to be nice. It’s true, Everly. If I’ve made you feel otherwise, I apologize.”
Pulling her hand from under his in hopes of settling the rapid pace of her pulse, she tapped the papers against the table, straightening them. “Thank you. I’m going to take these by my folks’. My father is a lawyer. I’ll have him review them and get them back to you tomorrow.”
Chris leaned back in his own chair, crossed one leg over the other knee. “A lawyer. Hmm. What type?”
Everly smirked. “Divorce. It’ll come in handy one day if my mom and dad ever decide they’ve had enough of threatening to leave each other for good.”
His lips tilted downward, but instead of making an offhand comment about how weird that was, a response she often got, he shook his head. “That sounds hard on you.”
Her fingers flexed on the papers. Most people didn’t get that it was hard on her. “It’s not like I’m a kid anymore.”
He watched her carefully. “No. You’re not. But our parents’ behavior can impact us as adults more than we expect.”
It felt unsettling that he’d somehow said the exact right thing.
Chris stood up as she did. He pushed both hands into the pockets of his suit pants. He hadn’t put his jacket or tie back on, and the somewhat relaxed state was disarming. He almost seemed normal. “My father is on his sixth engagement.”
Everly’s jaw dropped. “Wow. That’s a lot of diamond rings.”
This time, it was his lips that curled into a smirk. A sexy I’ll-see-your-crazy-parents-and-raise-you one. “Yeah. That about covers it. He’s only gone through with it three times. Not sure he’ll actually marry this one, but she’s closer to his age this time.”
“Does he live here in LA?” Questions popped into her busy brain. Did he like any of the stepmothers? How old was he when his parents divorced? Was a clean break and moving on better, from a kid’s perspective, than constantly reuniting? She worked with this man every day and hardly knew anything about him.
“No. He’s in New York. Most of my family is.”
“Are you close with your mom?”
The smile, which made the curve of his cheeks and one, small dimple pop, was genuine and warm. It made Everly’s insides dance with an unfamiliar feeling.
“We talk often. She likes to travel and prefers tropical islands.”
“Can’t say I blame her.” She glanced at the time. If she left for her parents’ house now, she might catch them at dinnertime and swing a meal out of it. When things were good between them, she made it a point to visit. It didn’t eliminate the guilt of avoiding them when they were separated, but it gave them less ammunition to say they never saw her. Maybe one day, they’d make the connection between the state of their marriage and her visits. Her stomach rumbled loudly.
Chris’s laughter made her cheeks heat, and when he arched a brow and stared at her stomach, she covered it with her hand in response. Like somehow that would hide that the sandwich she’d eaten for lunch wasn’t enough.
“Let me buy you dinner,” he said.
Everly’s breath twisted in her chest, coming out sharply. The words hung between them as she looked up into his dark eyes.
Chris ran one hand through his hair. “We’ve been going over this for hours. No harm finishing up while feeding you, right? It seems like the least I can do.”
The least he could do because … what? He felt guilty? She wasn’t sure, but she also wasn’t sure about being alone with him any more while her heart felt unsettled. It was as if there were an invisible danger sign flashing in the back of her mind. His quiet offer and the way his smile confused her should come with a warning: This is not the Chris for you.
She shouldn’t even need that reminder. The adrenaline of the day must be wearing off for her thoughts to be so scattered. Most people didn’t understand the amount of energy it took to be inside of her own head. She wore herself out sometimes. “Actually, I should get these papers over to my dad. Then we’ll be able to sign off tomorrow and start promotion.”
When he didn’t argue, it was easy to believe he’d only asked out of obligation. “Besides, you’ll be paying for enough of my dinners starting soon. You should probably save your boss some money. You don’t even know yet if he’ll sign off on this.”
He nodded, looking almost disappointed. As if. Why would he be? She shook off the feeling as he stepped aside and gestured to the door. “Let me worry about that. Pitched properly, there’s no reason for this not to fly.” His tone wasn’t brusque, but it didn’t have the easy cadence they’d found in the last couple of hours.
You always do this. You make things awkward. Everly tightened her grip on her bag, unsure what she’d said that shifted the atmosphere between them. She’d spend a good portion of her evening replaying everything she’d said, trying to figure it out, though.
His reserved mask slowly slipped back into place. He walked behind his desk, looked down at his calendar.
“Thank you for all your hard work and compromise. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know,” he said, looking at her again, but something felt … off. His gaze had lost the warmth she’d felt earlier.
She pulled her bag onto her shoulder, breathing through the restlessness seeping over her skin. “Okay, well. Good night.”
His smile held a hint of regret that she didn’t understand. This man was more confusing than most. “Good night, Everly.”
[8]
Chris let himself into his condo, juggling the take-out bag and the six-pack of IPA he’d picked up on the way home. The lack of sleep coupled with the adrenaline of a kick-ass idea was catching up with him. Maybe he could blame those things for asking Everly out to dinner. Setting the food and beer down, he shrugged out of his coat, tossed it on a barstool, and opened a beer. Taking a long swallow, he let out a sigh that loosened all the tension from his shoulders.
There’d been a moment there, when his breath had caught tightly in his lungs and he’d hoped like hell she’d take him up on the offer of dinner. Thankfully, she was more sensible than he was.
>
It would have been a work dinner, he reminded himself. The problem was, he had to keep reminding himself of their strictly professional and platonic relationship. When she left, the confusion in her gaze made him hate himself, but it was better that she think he was a hot-and-cold jerk of a boss than know how very much he would have liked to take her out.
Stop it, he demanded of himself. He had a lot to celebrate.
Overall, it had been a damn good day. Transferring his tandoori chicken to a plate, he took his beer, his food, and his phone to the couch. The apartment was more than he needed. The kitchen and living area were one large room with high ceilings and lots of windows to let in the California sunshine. He had a couch, coffee table, and big-screen television with surround sound. The basic necessities as far as he was concerned. He had a king-size bed and a dresser in the master bedroom. Other than that, he hadn’t bought anything. No point when he was heading back to New York.
He liked California. After living on the East Coast all his life, it was sort of a culture shock. It wasn’t hard to get used to the sunshine, though. Turning on the news, he muted it and dialed his brother’s number, putting it on speaker.
“Hey. How’s it going?” Noah asked, his voice filling the room.
Chris spoke around a mouthful of chicken. “Not too bad. You?”
“Same old. Just purchased a couple of warehouses in the Heights. I planned to turn one into apartments and the other into a community center. Gramps would have loved them, and it’s time to give back to the community.”
“It’s a great idea.” He thought of Everly’s apartment. Their grandfather had been born in New Jersey and would have loved the concept. “Renovating it into something else keeps the original charm but brings new life.” Unfortunately, he knew how this story played out. “Which part did Dad squash?”
“What the hell is the point of him giving us the lead on projects just to tell us no?” There were muffled sounds of his brother moving around as he spoke through his irritation.
Swallowing his bite, he took a quick sip of beer before attempting an answer. “I’m sure, in his mind, the reasons are plenty. My guess is the only person he likes to give back to is himself. You off-loading the warehouses?”
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