“Really? How?” Paige asked sarcastically and didn’t even feel bad about it.
“For starters, there’s less pressure on you. It’s all on Ariel now.”
“True but…I’ve already done all the hard work—the research, the recruiting, booking photographers and banquet spaces. I mean, all she’s doing is stepping in and taking the spotlight!”
“Okay, there is that,” Daisy said, frowning. “But, between you and me, with her pregnancy announcement, I’m sure she’s going to need a lot of help. I’ll bet you anything you’ll be in charge in no time.”
“And by then, she will have made a mess of everything, and I’ll have to clean it up,” Paige said with a sigh. It was a scenario that had played out more times than she cared to count. “It’s so typical of her. Why am I the only one who sees it?”
Daisy pulled up a chair and sat. “Trust me. You’re not the only one who sees it. There are a lot of us here who do. I don’t get why your father doesn’t see it.”
“He’s always been blind to Ariel’s doings. And whenever I try to point them out, I get accused of being jealous.” She sighed again. “And it’s not that. I swear it’s not. It’s just that somehow, I always end up getting screwed and I’m so tired of it!”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to do what I always do. My job,” Paige said after a moment. “We’re a team and I have to remember that just because I’m not the captain, it doesn’t make my job any less important.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. We all want to be the captain, the head cheerleader, the star of the show. There’s no crime in that, Paige. You need to take a stand, and when Ariel crashes and burns on this, you need to put your foot down and tell them you’re not taking over. Let her deal with the mess she makes for once.”
“I would love to, but she’s pregnant and said she was sick and—”
“Right. Sick,” Daisy said with a snort of disgust. “I saw her run from your father’s office earlier, and as soon as she turned the corner and thought she was out of sight, her pace slowed to her usual superior glide and she went to her office, grabbed her purse, and left, cool as a cucumber.”
The curse that flew out of Paige’s mouth was more colorful than her usual vocabulary, and her hand instantly flew to her mouth.
Daisy, however, laughed uproariously. “Yes! Exactly! That is exactly what I thought! I was tempted to follow her and see if she went to Starbucks or to get a pedicure. Maybe I should keep a trench coat, hat, and dark glasses here, so she won’t know it’s me following her. What do you think?”
“I think you’d stick out like a sore thumb wearing that around town. Please don’t.”
“Fine. But I’m telling you, I’m going to catch her in the act and then maybe if someone else went to your father with how Ariel is manipulating everyone, he’ll have to believe it.”
“I’m not holding my breath. He’s so over the top about having a grandchild that he’ll probably forgive anything. Ariel could probably bankrupt the company and he’d forgive her.”
“Paige…”
“I’m serious! You’d think she was giving birth to the king or something!”
“First grandchildren tend to bring that out in people.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t make it any easier for the rest of us,” Paige said miserably. “Oh God. Maybe I am jealous! I sound jealous, don’t I? Ugh. Why?”
“You’re not jealous. You’re tired of being taken for granted,” Daisy said reassuringly. “You know what you need to do?”
“Quit and work on the other side of the country?”
Daisy considered that for a moment. “Let’s say that’s option number two. No, what you need to do is complete whatever task they’ve given you like a total professional. But only that task. Don’t involve yourself in anything else that’s going on—just focus on the job at hand. They did give you something specific, didn’t they?”
Paige nodded but was almost afraid to admit what it was. She had gotten a glimpse of Daisy’s crush on Dylan, and she had a feeling that once she said what her job was for the campaign, she was going to need a tranquilizer gun to calm her assistant down.
“So what is it? Are you in charge of the catering hall for the launch? Oh, did she assign you to solicitation calls for donations? No, no…I bet she has you working on ordering promotional materials, right? And probably with her face on it next to Literacy Now’s logo!” Cracking herself up, Daisy took a minute to laugh. “Okay, come on. Out with it. What ridiculous task did they assign you? Name-tag maker? Celebrity dog walker? Come on…you have to tell me.”
Bracing herself for what she was sure was going to be a full-on meltdown, she said, “I’m babysitting Dylan Anders.”
Then she froze and waited for Daisy’s response.
And waited.
And waited.
“Oh…my…GOD!” Daisy screeched. “Are you kidding me? Like…like…you get to hang out with him for like…the entire length of the campaign? That’s three months! Three months! Do you realize how long that is?”
“Um…three months? Approximately ninety days?”
Daisy jumped up and paced a few steps away from the desk and then back again, slamming her hands on the surface. “You get ninety days with Dylan Anders to yourself! Can I help? Please, Paige! Let me help!”
If it were up to Paige, she’d let Daisy do it all, but that wasn’t the way this worked. “I’m sure once we figure out how all this is going to go, I’ll need your help, but as of right now, I’m still feeling a little clueless about what everyone thinks I’m supposed to do with him.”
“I can think of a few things,” Daisy murmured with a grin.
“Okay, let’s just…get through the next week and figure out what the heck I’m supposed to do with Dylan, and then I promise to let you have some time to work with him. How does that sound?”
Rather than speak, Daisy squealed and then ran to hug Paige.
Yes, Daisy was a hugger.
There was a loud knock on her office door, and they both turned to see Dylan standing in the doorway.
A very angry looking Dylan.
Luckily Daisy chose to stay silent as she looked at Paige.
“Dylan,” Paige said, forcing a smile on her face, “it’s good to see you. Is it four o’clock already?”
He said nothing, but his eyes conveyed that he was as unhappy as she was. Maybe even more.
“Daisy? Could you get us some coffee, please?”
With a nod, Daisy quickly made her way out of the office—giving Dylan only a brief glance and a nervous smile.
Once she was gone, Dylan sauntered into the room, his eyes never leaving Paige’s. When he stopped in front of her desk, she braced herself for what he had to say.
“You got assigned to be my handler,” he spat. “Whose idea was it? Yours? Afraid I’m going to screw up your precious campaign?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him how he was the one who came to her, not the other way around, but she didn’t. That wasn’t her style. She believed in being professional—no matter what.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Paige motioned for him to sit down, but he didn’t budge. She, however, definitely needed to sit down. After a moment, she decided to try to calm him down. “I can’t say whose idea it was. It came as a bit of a shock to me as well. However, I don’t see it as a bad thing. I believe with me acting as your…guide…this whole thing will be relatively quick and painless for you.”
Dylan raked a hand through his hair and moved a few steps away before sitting down, his elbows resting on his knees. “Look, I don’t need a damn guide. Or a babysitter. Or an assistant. This isn’t brain surgery! I need to film some promos, get some pictures taken, and speak at a couple of events. It’s not a big deal, Paige.”
She slouched a
little in her seat, praying for patience. “I realize that. I honestly do. But the whole thing—the campaign and your part in it—is out of my hands.” She held up her hands helplessly and realized how much it hurt to admit that. Especially to him.
He sat up straighter and looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”
With a sigh, she told him how her entire day had gone and how her father and Ariel had broken the news to her. “So you see, this isn’t exactly how I envisioned things going either.”
“But…I thought this was your campaign, your clients.”
She nodded. “It was. Was being the operative word here.”
He muttered a curse and then relaxed in his chair. “So now what?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. I just found out about it when Ariel dropped off her revised schedule. Daisy brought it to me a few minutes before you arrived, so I haven’t looked at it yet.”
“Care to look at it together?” he asked. “Seems to me it’s going to affect us both.”
He was right. It was. “Sure. Why not?” And before she could say another word, Dylan stood, picked up his chair, and came around to her side of the desk.
Not quite what I was expecting, she thought.
He sat close to her—almost too close—and once she opened the file, he leaned in closer.
Clearly, he has no concept of personal space, she mused. But then she caught a hint of his cologne again and had to fight the urge to move closer and inhale.
“What does this mean?” Dylan asked, and Paige realized she hadn’t been paying attention to the schedule, whereas Dylan was already reading it.
A quick first glance showed that, for the most part, nothing about the campaign’s timeline had changed and Paige breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, so far nothing has changed,” she said to him.
“That’s good, I guess. Although being how I had no idea of the schedule, it doesn’t mean a whole lot to me. I need to know what my schedule is going to look like with this and where I’ll need to be and what I’ll need to know,” he explained, his eyes still scanning the paper in Paige’s hand.
She was about to tell him when he would be starting when a side note caught her eye: “Have Paige write scripts for all participants.” Unable to help herself, she muttered a curse and flung the paper aside.
“Problem?” Dylan asked with mild amusement.
Earlier, she had felt comfortable unleashing while Daisy was here—and for some reason, she felt that same ease with Dylan. Jumping up from her chair, Paige let loose.
“Like it’s not enough that I did all the groundwork for this project, but I then get pushed aside for my sister, so she can take over, and then she still won’t do any of the work! Now I have to write all the scripts for the people she chose! I had all of that done for the people—the authors—I wanted to have participate. Now I have to find out who else she went and contacted and figure out how to write up what they need to say! And that’s on top of babysitting you!”
“Hey!” he cried, coming to his feet.
“Oh, knock it off,” she snapped. “You were the one who wanted in on this so flipping bad. You thought you’d be cute and poke at me on Friday to get a place in this whole thing. Well, now you do! And this is what goes with it! So if you want to bail, there’s the door!”
Wow, did it feel good to get that off her chest.
Her breath was ragged and her heart was hammering in her chest, and when she looked at the shocked expression on Dylan’s face, she smiled.
Then started to laugh.
His expression went from shocked to annoyed in the blink of an eye. “You think this is funny?”
That made her laugh harder.
“There is nothing funny about this,” he said firmly. “I think you’ve gone completely mental.” He waved her off and started to walk around the desk, but Paige called out to him. Dylan turned and looked at her.
“I’m sorry, but… Oh God! You have no idea how much I needed to do that,” she said, with a sigh of relief. “A while ago, I wanted to punch something, but I think this was just as effective.”
“Yeah, you’ve gone mental,” he said, shaking his head. “This isn’t going to work.” With a determined stride, he made his way to the door.
“Wait!” Paige called out, racing around the desk to block him from leaving. “Don’t… You can’t leave.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said, but it was in the heat of the moment.” When she saw she had his full attention, she went on. “I want you to be a part of this project, Dylan.”
“Why? So you can have a part in it that isn’t fetching coffee? Because from the way this whole thing sounds, it would be the next step down for you.” With another rake through his hair, he let out a frustrated huff. “Look, it was obvious from the get-go you didn’t want me for this, so I’m giving you an out. Who knows? With me gone, maybe your sister will do right by you. Or maybe you’ll get to take on some different campaign. I think it’s for the best if we let this go.”
“No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Excuse me?” he asked with a slight smirk.
“You heard me. No,” she repeated. Paige realized how ridiculous she must have looked. Dylan was almost a foot taller than her, and here she was attempting not only to block his path, but to stand up to him as well.
His only response was to arch a dark brow at her.
“I know it seems crazy that I’m suddenly asking you to stay, but I think we can help each other.”
No response.
“You’ll get to take care of your…community service.”
“It’s not only about that!” he snapped irritably.
“No, no…I know. I know. Sorry,” she said quickly. “But it is a contributing factor that we can’t simply ignore, correct?”
He gave a curt nod.
“Okay. So we’ll deal with it and you’ll also get a chance to show everyone how you don’t need a handler.” She was careful not to use the term babysitter again. “By the time this is done, you’ll be well on your way to showing the world that you’re a changed man.”
Dylan studied her intently for a moment. “And what do you get out of this? I mean, you’re seriously pissed about how this has all turned out and the role you’ve been relegated to. So what’s in it for you?”
Good question.
“The people at Literacy Now are friends of mine.” Or at least Paige had thought they were. “And no matter what, I want this campaign to be a success. And though my role has been…diminished, it doesn’t mean I’m not going to work hard to see that everything runs smoothly and to help out wherever I can.”
For a long moment, Dylan said nothing. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned down toward her. “I’ll agree under one condition.”
Anything—at that moment, she would have agreed to anything but didn’t want to come off as desperate. “Okay,” she said with a calmness she wasn’t quite feeling.
“I want you to admit—right here, right now—that you’re pissed, and if given a chance, the person you’d punch is your sister.”
Paige took a step back as her eyes went wide. “I don’t see where that has anything to do with…well…anything!”
He shrugged.
“Why? Why would you want me to say that?”
“Because it’s the truth. You know it. I know it. And I need to know that you’re going to be honest with me and not blow smoke up my ass because you think it’s your job to play nice all the time.”
“I can assure you I’ve never blown smoke up anyone’s…well…you know.”
“Say ass.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Seriously? This is getting ridiculous.”
He shrugged again.
When she realized he wasn’t going to budge on t
his, her shoulders sagged with defeat. “Fine. I’m pissed. I’m beyond pissed. And if she were here right now, even though I wouldn’t do it, I would fantasize about punching Ariel for taking this campaign away from me.” Straightening, she did her best to strike a defiant pose. “Happy?”
“Almost. You missed one.”
It was the smirk that got her—got her riled up and had her refusing to step away from the challenge.
“Ass,” she said, doing her best not to smirk at him. “I’ve never blown smoke up anyone’s ass. There. Can we move on now?”
His smirk grew into a full-blown smile and Paige had to stop herself from swooning.
The man had a killer smile—dimples and everything.
Dylan held out a hand to hers to seal the deal. “I believe we can.”
* * *
“Seriously? You’re going with the Sicilian defense?” Mick asked.
Dylan didn’t even look up. “Yup.”
“Can’t we have a friendly game? Play for enjoyment?”
This time Dylan did look up from the chessboard. “This is enjoyment. The point of the game is to win and to use the proper strategy to do so. I know you don’t like the Sicilian defense, and therefore, it gives me the advantage.” He grinned. “And I’m enjoying it.”
Mick laughed and studied the board. “Yeah, well…I think we need a new game to play. This is getting too predictable for you.”
“Nonsense,” Dylan countered. “Every game of chess is different. And what would we play instead of this?”
“Scrabble.”
Dylan burst out laughing. “Not a chance, buddy. I can do this, I can play cards, I can even hold my own in Dungeons and Dragons, but don’t make me spell. It’s too much. And boring as hell.”
“Not to someone who enjoys working with words,” Mick said, reaching out and making his move.
“See? You never made that move before. Every time, it’s different. And I’m perfectly happy with it.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to branch out and maybe play something someone else enjoys,” Mick grumbled.
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