Zoey stilled. It’s not that she thought he’d be mad, but he was famous. People cared when famous people dated other people. “Oh. I guess I just thought your people would need to know or something. Doesn’t the public care if you’re dating someone?”
“Sure they do. But that doesn’t mean I have to care that they care. Let people speculate. Let them talk. I’m not obligated to provide information.”
Of course he wasn’t. Zoey knew that. But she’d never dated a celebrity before. She could only guess about what sorts of things his PR people needed to know about and what they didn’t. “I guess that’s good news then. I’ll stop drafting a letter to the public in my head, detailing all the reasons why I’m qualified to date you.”
Harry smiled, the resulting lines etched into his face nearly making Zoey swoon. “I could write a letter detailing why you’re qualified, but I’m not sure it would be approved for general audiences.”
“Harry!”
He chuckled, nuzzling his face into her neck. “I have to go to a thing in a couple of weeks.”
Zoey leaned back so she could see his face. “A thing?”
“The network says I have to be there. It’s a charity thing. Red carpet. Press. The whole deal.”
Zoey nodded. “Okay.”
“Come with me.”
“What?”
“Come with me. Be my date. Officially. Then it won’t matter who sees our picture at the park.”
Zoey’s heart pounded in her chest. The idea of going somewhere so public both thrilled and terrified her at the same time. “That sounds big.”
“It doesn’t have to be. People take dates to these things all the time.”
“But you just got a divorce, Harry. A kind of public one. You showing up with a date is going to make people talk.”
“The divorce was over a year ago. Let them talk. Let them see how happy you make me.”
Zoey hesitated. “I don’t know. I’d have to figure something out with Nana.” That was only half of the reason she hesitated. Walking a red carpet as Harry’s date meant that everyone, including her colleagues back in Chicago and worse, her mother, would know that she was dating Harrison Beckford. It likely wouldn’t hurt her chances at landing an anchor position. News anchors were allowed to have personal lives. If anything, the extra media attention might only help her, not that she would ever intentionally leverage a relationship with Harry to benefit her own career.
But public commitment felt so much bigger than evenings at Nana’s house chilling on the couch, or goodbye kisses after morning coffee. Was she ready for it? Was it what she wanted?
“I guess it’s too much for your parents to fly in for the weekend?”
Zoey nearly balked at the thought. Her mother would love that she was dating Harrison Beckford. Not because he was a celebrity, though she’d love that part as well, but just because he was stable. Settled. Employed. With a house and a life Zoey could easily step into. Her mother was the last person she wanted to see right now.
“Or we could talk to Cassandra,” Harry added, clearly sensing her hesitation. “I’m sure we could figure something out so you could be gone for one night. But no pressure,” he quickly amended. “It’s most important that you feel comfortable leaving her.”
“No, I know. I’m sure we could figure something out. It wouldn’t be a big deal for you to leave the kids?”
“Absolutely not. My mom can handle them. Or Charlotte, even.”
Zoey shook her head. “Don’t ask Charlotte. She doesn’t need anything extra on her plate right now.”
“Okay. Then my mom.” The light in his eyes dimmed. “You’re still hesitant to say yes.”
Zoey had felt hesitant, but when she looked at the hope in Harry’s eyes, she could hardly remember why. “No. Not hesitant. Let’s do it. I want to come.” Zoey smiled, allowing her enthusiasm to push away the fear still clinging to her heart. She wouldn’t think about Rebecca at the park who would soon know exactly who Harry was dating, along with every other person who cared enough to look it up on the internet. She wouldn’t think about her life back in Chicago, and the very pressing question of whether or not she’d be willing to walk away from that life to live this one instead.
She trusted Harry. She wanted a relationship with him. If that meant embracing the very public parts of his life, then so be it. She would figure everything else out later.
Chapter 10
Harry walked through the kitchen of the little coastal cottage his team had been gutting over the past week, his assistant, Jason, following close behind. It wasn’t really a kitchen anymore. It was more an empty shell with some exposed plumbing. But by the end of the following afternoon, it would look like a kitchen again. Cabinets would be arriving within the hour, floors were going in first thing the next morning, and the appliances and fixtures would be in a few hours after that.
“What about the French doors?” Harry asked. “Will they be here in time?”
Jason nodded. “The truck has already left the warehouse. It’ll be here by six.”
“Perfect. And Tyson will be here early to finish the install before we start filming?”
Jason nodded again. “Yes, and yes.”
“Good. I want to get shots of the floors in progress, but the door already needs to be in before that happens.”
“Yep. It’s all on the schedule for tomorrow.” He pulled a file out of a portfolio and handed it to Harry. “Mary wants you to look these over. Notes on the next project. A young couple modernizing grandma’s house to fit the needs of their growing family.”
Harry flipped through the photos. “Looks like the house has good bones,” he said. “Built when?”
“1923,” Jason said quickly.
Harry smiled. Jason used to have to look for information like that when Harry asked. Lately, it seemed like he anticipated Harry’s questions before he’d even had time to voice them.
Jason rolled his eyes, clearly having noticed Harry’s glee. “What? Your questions are very predictable. Is it so surprising that I’ve figured you out?”
Harry handed the file back to Jason. “Tell Mary I approve.”
“Friday or Monday for pre-reno walkthrough?”
Harry scratched the back of his neck and looked around the cottage. They’d probably finish up by Wednesday, which meant cleaning would happen Wednesday night. That meant staging, and post-renovation clean shots would happen on Thursday. They’d be wrapped by Thursday afternoon at the latest.
“If she’s offering Monday as an option, let’s go with that. I think everyone deserves a long weekend.” Harry crossed through the living room and out the front door toward his truck.
“Got it,” Jason said, making notes as he followed. “Okay, last thing. The network called again, wanting to know if you’re going to the charity event next Sunday night.”
Harry unbuckled his tool belt and dropped it into the passenger seat of his truck.
“This is the fifth time that Beth Ann has called me to ask what your plans are.”
“That many?”
Jason pulled out his buzzing phone. “Oh, look.” He turned the screen to face Harry, revealing Beth Ann’s name, then silenced the incoming call. “Now it’s six times.”
Harry smirked. “You really don’t like talking to Beth Ann, do you?”
Jason scowled. “Don’t pretend like you don’t also think she’s scary. You need to go to this thing, Harrison, and you need to bring a date. Your adoring public hasn’t seen you looking happy in too long. Did you read Greta’s email this morning? She explained all of this. It’s time to leave the recently divorced label behind and let women swoon over you a little bit. The network needs you to do this; your personal branding needs you to do this.”
Harry leaned against his truck. “You know how much I hate this part of the job.” It wasn’t that he hated getting dressed up, or even hated going to charity events. If it was a cause that resonated with him, he was happy to offer his image and his f
inancial backing. He just hated the obligation. That so many people had a say in where he went and why he went there. “But even if I hadn’t read Greta’s email this morning, I’d still go to the event.”
“Harry, you have to—” Jason paused. “Wait, what? You’re going?”
Harry grinned. “I’m going, and I’m taking Zoey.”
“Oh. Wow. Okay. That’s great news. I’ll let Beth Ann know. Do you, um, do you want me to talk to Greta about Zoey?”
Harry raised his eyebrows in question, then climbed into his truck, cranking the engine before lowering his window to finish the conversation with Jason. “Why do we need to talk to Greta about Zoey? She’s coming with me. It’ll make people talk, but that’s nothing we aren’t used to.”
“Well, but, she’s your nanny. That’s likely to generate a little bit of extra attention. That you’ve started dating the help.”
“No. That’s not—don’t say it that way.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, suddenly frustrated by the turn the conversation had taken. “Zoey isn’t the help. She’s a family friend who agreed to temporarily help out with the kids.”
“I don’t know how Greta will spin that to the media. They’re still going to call her your nanny. I mean, maybe not. But if anyone has seen her out and about with the kids, it won’t take long for rumors to start. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with dating your nanny. But after the way they treated you during the divorce? I’m sure the tabloids will find a way to make it look scandalous.”
Harry leaned his head back against the seat. “She’s a news anchor from Chicago. She’s got a master’s degree. A career. Can we make sure that’s the information that makes it to the press? Sort of pre-empt the possibility of the nanny angle becoming the story?”
“So, leak information on purpose so people know who she is before the event?”
“Exactly.”
“Good thinking. I’ll talk to Greta. How does Zoey feel about all of this?”
Harry shrugged. “She’s good with it. She wants to go.” He tried not to think about the way she’d hesitated when he’d asked her to go with him. It had been nice keeping his relationship with Zoey quiet. The fact that they never went out, just bounced between his house and Emily’s had made that easy so far. But if they kept dating—and he wanted them to—their world couldn’t stay that small forever. People would eventually find out, if not at the charity event, then some other time. Admittedly, Zoey had a lot more on the line than he did. He’d grown used to living with minor celebrity status, to being recognized when he was out and about, to the constant interest and speculation regarding his personal life. But by agreeing to go, Zoey was sacrificing a measure of anonymity that she might not get back for a long time. That was plenty of reason for her to hesitate.
He could only hope she thought he was worth the risk.
Chapter 11
Zoey stood back from the mirror at the end of the hallway and twisted to the side, looking at the buttons that cascaded down the back of her dress.
“You look perfect,” Nana said from her chair in the living room. “Like you belong on the red carpet.”
Zoey had to admit, the dress was perfect. Blue silk, asymmetrical with one shoulder strap and cascades of fabric cinching around her waist before falling in waves to the floor. The blue looked stunning with her dark hair, which she wore swept to the side to compliment the flow of the dress. She’d didn’t think she’d ever looked so beautiful.
Zoey crossed the living room and sat down, but then stood back up again. Would sitting wrinkle her dress? She shook her hands, as if that alone would chase away her nerves, then wiped at the beads of sweat forming on her upper lip. “Ugh, I cannot start sweating!” She walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer, using the door to fan her face.
Cassandra came up behind her. “Here,” she said, taking the freezer door from Zoey’s hand. “Let me.” She shifted Zoey into the space behind the freezer door, so the cool air pressed against the back of her neck, and picked up a thick magazine from the counter, using it to fan Zoey’s face.
“Ohhh, that helps,” Zoey said.
“You’re going to do fine,” Cassandra said. “This is Harry we’re talking about. How long has it been now? A month? Six weeks? You don’t have anything to be nervous about.”
“Five weeks,” Zoey said. “But I’m not nervous about Harry. I’m nervous about everyone else. What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t think I’m pretty enough to be dating the Harrison Beckford?”
Cassandra scoffed. “Since when did this become about being pretty enough for anyone? You are a strong, independent woman, and any man, famous or not, would be lucky to spend an evening in your company even if you wore a paper bag over your head. You have more to offer than your looks, sweetheart. Don’t forget that.”
“Amen,” Nana shouted from the living room.
Zoey took a deep breath. She could do this. “Thank you for coming over,” she said to Cassandra. The nurse wasn’t technically on duty—she’d come over as a friend—which made Zoey all the more grateful that the woman had become a part of her grandmother’s life. She was the real deal.
A knock sounded on the front door and Zoey’s heart lurched. “I’ll get the door,” Cassandra said. “You best get out of the freezer.”
Zoey moved into the living room and grabbed her bag, then moved over to kiss Nana goodbye. Cassandra returned, Harry on her heels.
Zoey’s breath caught in her throat. Harrison Beckford knew how to wear a suit. Dark gray, impeccably tailored, with a vest and a black tie, with the shoes and the hair and . . . Zoey swallowed. She needed to speak. “Hi,” she finally managed.
Harry smiled. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. So do you.”
He held out his hand. “Shall we go?”
They said goodbye to Nana and Cassandra then left through the front door. A sleek black limousine waited for them at the curb.
“Wow,” Zoey said. “I guess you don’t drive yourself to these things, do you?”
“Part of the perks,” Harry said.
A driver waited for them, opening the door as they approached the car.
“After you,” Harry said.
Zoey climbed into the limo and settled herself on the rear seat. Harry sat down beside her and reached out to squeeze her hand.
“Seriously, Zoe. You’re stunning.”
Zoey looked down at the blue silk she’d spent way too much money on. “Thanks. Any last-minute pointers? Red carpet dos and don’ts?”
“Jason will take your bag when we get out of the car and return it to you when we reach our seats. Other than that, just smile a lot and hold on to my hand.”
Zoey nodded. “I’ll be with you the entire time, right?”
“The whole time,” Harry assured her. “There might be a reporter or two who want to ask a few questions, but mostly it will just be photos. If anyone asks who you are, I’ll introduce you as my date, Zoey Williamson. That’s it. It won’t take long for people to try and figure out who you are, but Greta intentionally leaked info about you being a family friend and a news anchor in Chicago, which should be enough to keep them from digging too far into your personal life, though, if you have any public profiles you’d like to make private, it’s probably a good idea to do that now.”
Zoey’s job already required that she have a pretty carefully curated online presence. She did have public profiles, but they were pretty basic. She never posted personal stuff. “I think I’m probably good on that front.”
“I guess with your work you’ve already thought about that,” Harry said.
“On a smaller scale, for sure, but yes.” She closed her eyes and took a couple of cleansing breaths. “Geez, why am I so nervous?”
Harry chuckled. “Did you get this nervous before you went on the air back in Chicago?”
Her eyes popped open. “Never. But this is entirely different. People didn’t watch the news to see me. They watched the
news to get the news. But people are going to be taking pictures of me. Well, I mean, of you, really. But I’ll be with you and that means they’re all going to be speculating about who I am and what I’m doing with you and whether or not we’re just dating or if we’ve fallen in love. I don’t understand how you’re so chill about this.”
“Well I was feeling chill. If you keep this up, we’re both going to be a mess by the time we get there.” The laughter in his voice and the warmth in his eyes told Zoey not to take Harry seriously. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “I promise. You’re going to be the smartest, most talented, most beautiful woman in the room. Everyone is going to be amazed by you.”
Zoey took another deep breath. “So, I’m not going to be introduced as your nanny?”
Harry raised their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the side of her wrist. “No. But I’ve never really thought of you as the nanny. Maybe for the first week, but then I was just so . . . I don’t know. You’ve always felt like a lot more than that.”
Warmth filled Zoey’s chest. “I’m really happy, Harry.”
He grinned. “Me too.”
Moments later, the limo pulled to a stop and Harry gave her hand a final squeeze. “Are you ready to do this?”
They stepped out of the limousine into a sea of people, photographers calling Harry’s name, yelling for his attention. Through it all, he was cool and calm, guiding her along the red carpet, pausing at intervals for different photographers to get their shots.
At one point, Harry pulled her close, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist and whispered into her ear. “This is so much easier with you beside me,” he said.
The gesture only increased the flashes of the photographers’ cameras. If they’d had any doubt about whether or not she and Harrison were a couple before, their doubts were likely gone now.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Zoey managed to keep it together when they were seated at a table with an actress she’d seen in a movie less than a week before and the lead singer from one of her favorite bands. The food was incredible, the dessert good enough she nearly asked the waif-like actress if she could eat hers as well, and the entertainment was better than she’d expected. The benefit was for a nonprofit organization focused on providing legal support and translation services to immigrant asylum seekers; by the end of the night, it was a cause she was happy to support both by her presence—she was sure Harry’s network had paid prettily for their tickets—and with her own donation.
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