by Kennedy Fox
My heart drops when I realize I didn’t get her a coffee before heading this way. As soon as I see her step out of the double doors, I hop out of the car and grab her suitcase as she holds Angel securely in her arms. The little devil in disguise has pink bows on her ears, and her diamond collar is sparkling in the sunshine. I’d offer to take the dog, but screw that. She’d bite my arm off.
I put on a smile. “How was the flight?”
She lifts her sunglasses and gives me a look. “The worst.”
I open my mouth and close it. “I got keys for you to go ahead and check in to your room early. The hotel is really nice. I think you’ll like it.”
It takes every bit of strength I have to put her suitcases in the trunk. I laugh to myself, knowing it would never happen, but damn, I deserve a raise.
“Did you get me a coffee?” Rachel asks, glancing down at my cup.
“No, Starbucks was out of soy, so I told them never mind.” It’s a lie, but it’s better than the truth.
She groans. “They need to get their crap together.”
We pull out of the airport and drive back to the hotel.
“So remember, I need you to take care of Angel for me. She needs to go out every three hours, minimum. Also, she’ll need food. I like to make sure there are no additives or fillers in it, and she’s to only drink triple filtered bottled water. I don’t want my baby to have any impurities from the tap.” Rachel looks at Angel as if she’s the most perfect creature on the planet.
I beg to differ.
Nodding, I do my best to control my face, though all I want to do is roll my eyes. I memorize everything she says, but we’ve already been through this. Her dog eats and drinks better than me.
As soon as we pull up to the hotel, the valet opens the door for Rachel, and she steps out, instantly replacing her scowl with a smile. She knows how to act, especially when she’s staying in a hotel where her readers will be. You never know who’s watching you, she always reminds me, which I know is good advice. Her bags are removed from the trunk, and the bellman offers to take them to her room. I hand over the key, and she hands me Angel, who instantly snaps at me.
“She might need to potty. Bring her to my room when she’s finished.”
Forcing another smile, I reply, “Of course.”
I look down at Angel who’s growling, showing all her pointy teeth. She’s such a small dog, but damn, her bites hurt. I lead her to the grassy area and wait for her to smell almost every blade of grass there is, and when I’m totally annoyed, she waits another minute, then finally goes.
“I hate you,” I say to her, and she turns around and flicks her back foot toward me as if to say the feeling is one hundred percent mutual.
“Okay, that’s enough. Now you’re just playing.” I tug on her leash, and she snaps at me. I glare at her and pick the asshole up regardless of her aggravation. The entire way to the elevator, she acts out, and we can’t get to the fifteenth floor soon enough. We step off, and I knock on Rachel’s door, and she swings it open.
I step in and hand her off to Rachel who already has the doggy dishes set up in the room.
“So how’s it been traveling with Maverick so far?” she asks, studying my face.
“A nightmare. We ran out of gas yesterday because he refused to fill up when I told him to.”
She half-snorts before covering her mouth. “Doesn’t surprise me. Even more reason for you to watch him tonight with my readers. I do not want to hear about him sleeping with any of them, Olivia. I’m very serious about that.”
I nod. “It won’t happen,” I assure her. We quickly go over our schedule for tonight, and I pull all her clothes from her suitcase and hang them in the closet. I explain how I’ve already confirmed reservations at the hotel restaurant downstairs. “I’ll be back around six to make sure you’re ready. You’re wearing a blue blouse and black skirt with these shoes,” I tell her, showing her.
“Perfect. I’m going to get some writing done, then take a nap,” she says.
“Room service is scheduled for noon,” I remind her.
“Fantastic.” She stands, and I take that as my cue to leave. Rachel doesn’t have to say much anymore. I can read between the lines, and her body language gives her away every single time. Or maybe our brains have finally synced.
Instead of going back to my room and catching up on the sleep I desperately need, I run through the itinerary again. I go to the front desk and have them bring all the boxes of swag items we ordered for her readers to my room so I can put the gift bags together. We had fifty people confirmed for the meet-n-greet dinner. Rachel is graciously paying for everyone’s food, though they have no idea yet.
Twenty minutes later, a bellman delivers six huge ass boxes to my room. I spend the next five hours putting everything together, and my back hurts even more from slouching and working a one-person assembly line.
After that’s all done, I neatly pack the goody bags in three boxes, then make my way downstairs to the cafe to grab something quick to eat for lunch.
As soon as I walk in, I notice Maverick on his phone drinking a coffee in the corner. I pretend not to see him because I don’t have the energy to deal with him right now. After I order a wrap and a bottle of water, I pay, grab my food, and walk out.
“Olivia.” I hear a deep voice behind me and turn around to Maverick standing in front of me.
“Yes?” My stomach is growling, and all I want to do is swallow this wrap whole.
“What time tonight? Eight?” His smug smile tells me he’s purposely trying to push my buttons. I’m exhausted, and my patience is hanging by a thread.
“Six. And I’m warning you right now, don’t make me track you down,” I tell him, bluntly shaking my head and walking to the elevators. I’m pretty sure I can hear his laughter echoing behind me.
After I eat and take a shower, I do some work on my laptop, then finally get dressed for the evening. Time passes by so quickly because when I look at the clock, it’s time to go downstairs and make sure the room is set up correctly, or Rachel will throw a fit. I call a bellman to bring a cart up for the boxes and deliver them to the reserved private room in the restaurant. As always, I feel like I’m rushing as I place the gift bags by each table setting. The bright pink tissue paper inside each bag perfectly matches Rachel’s brand. After looking down at my watch to check the time, I hurry and go to Rachel’s room and am pleasantly surprised when she’s completely ready to go.
“I’ve already taken Angel out,” she tells me and grabs her clutch. “Do I look okay?” She rubs her hands across her skirt. She’s been stuck in the writing cave for so long, I haven’t seen her in real clothes in months.
“You look perfect. Blue is your color. Ready to meet everyone?” I ask with a smile.
“I guess,” she tells me, and I know she’s nervous. Though she doesn’t really like public events because she’s an introvert, she’s learned when she needs to put on an act. Rachel really does love meeting people who enjoy her words, though. That much I know is genuine.
We go downstairs, and as soon as she walks into the room, she’s rushed by readers, and they surround her. The smile on her face is sincere as they discuss how much they love her characters and how excited they were about the release of the final book in her series. I look down at my watch and notice Maverick isn’t anywhere around. We have fifteen minutes until the event officially begins, and he better pray to sweet baby Jesus that I don’t have to hunt him down.
Thankfully, for him, he shows up right on time. The dinner goes well, and Rachel is in the spotlight. I try to keep off to the side, out of everyone’s way and observe. Just as Rachel’s readers are getting ready to leave, I see women crowd around Maverick, begging him for photos. He’s being overly flirty and whispering in some of their ears. I watch as most of them undress him with their eyes, and he isn’t doing himself any favors when he hugs them just a little too tightly. The numbers being exchanged isn’t lost on me either.
When a woman decides to lift his shirt and place her hand on his abs, I walk across the room toward him. He’s laughing, eating up all the attention. I pull him off to the side before his pants get torn off next.
“Best behavior,” I tell him between gritted teeth. “I mean it.”
“You need to chill out, babe. You’ve already got my number.” He winks at me. Readers are calling him over, squealing over the wink and smile he flashes them as he tells them he’ll be right back.
He takes me by surprise when he leans in, his lips softly brushing the shell of my ear. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous, Miss Priss.”
My mouth falls open, and I’m two seconds from punching him in his abs of steel before he walks away, laughing.
Chapter Eight
MAVERICK
Last night was more fun than I anticipated. It was a low-key chill dinner with Rachel’s readers who asked her questions about the series and what she planned to write next. Olivia mostly observed, making sure the staff was doing their jobs and occasionally barking demands at me.
I know she keeps telling me to behave, but I’m not the one who starts the grabby hands game. When women act that way, I know they’re just having fun and goofing off, so I don’t ever feel the need to scold them. Especially last night when I was supposed to be “on the clock” and entertaining Rachel’s fans. Seeing Olivia heated and annoyed was just the cherry on top.
After the evening was over, I spent an hour in the gym, then took a shower and went to bed. Today’s the first signing, and I’m not quite sure how it all works. I’ve never been to an author event before, but Olivia keeps informing me of all the things I’m “expected” to do.
A knock sounds out, and when I look at my watch, I smile. Right on time. As always.
I wait a few moments before slowly walking to the door and unlocking it. Once I swing it open, I’m taken aback by the Olivia in front of me. She’s dressed in her normal business attire, always so damn proper, except she’s wearing knee-high boots over her dark pantyhose. Her skirt is tight, showing off every natural curve, and her top is pale pink. It’s almost see-through, but I’m not going to mention that.
“Are you ready?” Her voice snaps me out of my haze, and I blink at her.
“Yeah, I just have to change.”
Olivia’s face drops as she scans my body. “What?”
“Relax,” I say with a smile, then place my hands on her shoulders. “I’m kidding. But you’re tense. You need a drink.”
“It’s ten in the morning,” she says, her body slowly relaxing.
“I’m ready. Do I look okay for my first signing?” I take a step back so she can see what I’m wearing.
“Unless your shirt buttons to the inside of your jeans, I’m not sure it’s going to stop them from lifting it again,” she says, biting her lip and releasing a small laugh. It’s cute.
“I guess I’ll take my chances then.” I smirk. “Gonna grab my wallet and phone real quick.”
As soon as I have everything, Olivia and I walk to the elevator, and after she hits the button for the third floor, she turns and faces me. “Okay, so I started setting up a little this morning, but we need to go down and finish. All her preorders are organized, but I need help with the swag items. There are tote bags, plastic mason jars, pens, bookmarks, candles, and lip balms.”
“Holy shit.”
The elevator doors slide open, and I follow Olivia down a long hallway.
“Yeah, I had to ask for an extra table so she has room to sign. There’s a bookseller on site so we won’t have to worry about dealing with taking payments.”
“This sounds way too complicated for just a signing.” The moment the words come out of my mouth, we approach a hallway already filled with anxious readers. I stand stunned for a second as I realize this won’t be anything like the intimate dinner we had last night.
“C’mon,” Olivia says, grabbing my hand and dragging me behind her. “Keep moving forward or—”
“Oh my God, it’s Ian!” one woman to my left yells, and it causes a ripple effect. Women shift in line and wave their arms around, screaming in pure excitement. I continue forward, flashing them grins, but keep walking like Olivia instructed.
The hallway seems to go on forever, the long line of people is never-ending, but we finally make it to the front of the line. Olivia rushes me inside to a massive ballroom where dozens of tables are set up in rows around the perimeter.
“You could’ve given me a heads-up!” I scold her as soon as we’re in private.
She gives me a look and shakes her head. “I’ve been warning you for days! Last night was just a small taste of what you should expect.”
“So I’m just supposed to stand around like a piece of eye candy? A slab of man meat? Their sex on a stick?”
“Okay, back up.” Olivia bursts out laughing. “I figured you’d like having your ego stroked, so what’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem,” I quickly say. “I can take pictures and smile pretty.”
She snorts, handing me a box. “You’re basically an expert at that. Now place those mason jars on that table over there. Make sure her name and logo are facing out.”
“So...how crazy are these readers?” I quietly ask Olivia about an hour after everything’s set up. “Do I need pepper spray?” I half-joke.
“They aren’t crazy. They’re just...passionate. Rachel’s readers are obsessed with the Bayshore Coast series, and you’re the representation of the hero. They basically put you on a pedestal and bow down to you because of her character. For them, meeting you is the closest way to feel connected to Rachel’s series, which is why so many of them like getting your autograph and taking pictures with you. It feels special to them, and it’s something they will always cherish. So that’s what you’re doing here. This series means a lot to many of her readers for various reasons. Sometimes it’s the emotional aspects, the funny moments, the family history, but Ian is who they ultimately fall for and root for throughout.”
“Wow...that’s the sincerest thing I’ve ever heard you say without disdain or disgust. Passionate and obsessed, that’s how you are with your job.” She gives me a look. “In a good way,” I add. “But okay, I think I get it now. Channeling my inner Ian.”
She smiles, then laughs. “Yes, which should be easy for you, considering Ian was a classic asshole. Arrogant, wealthy, full of himself.”
“Women falling to their knees, begging for just one night,” I add for her with a cocky grin.
Olivia rolls her eyes right on cue. “Focus, Maverick. Be polite, warming, and welcoming, offer to take pictures—some get too nervous to ask—sign their books or swag, and thank them for coming. Tell them it was a pleasure to meet them and move to the next person waiting to meet you, treating them each like they were the first reader in line.”
“Like a pimp assembly line.” I smirk.
Olivia groans, shaking her head. “Let’s finish up, Pimp Daddy.” I can tell she’s holding back a smile, which I find amusing.
She turns around, and as she’s fiddling with something, I stand behind her and press my chest to her back. The moment I lean in and my mouth closes in on her ear, her body tenses. “You can call me Daddy anytime, sweetheart.” She shivers, though I know she’d never admit it. Her body reacts when mine is close, and I take that as a small victory.
An emcee interrupts our moment, and Olivia jumps, which puts space between us. The announcer lets everyone know the VIP ticket session is starting soon and the author photo will be in twenty minutes.
“Shit, Rachel better get here.” She types away on her phone seconds later. “Lord knows I can’t leave you here by yourself…”
And just like that, our special moment is gone.
“I’m a big boy, ya know? If you need to go check on her, I’ll be fine.”
Turning and looking at me, she contemplates my suggestion. She opens her mouth, but then her phone goes off, and she starts typing away aga
in.
“She’s ready. I’m going to meet her at the elevators. Be right back.” Olivia takes a couple of steps forward, then stops to face me. “I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t be here by yourself because I didn’t trust you, but things are about to get really chaotic with eight hundred people in one room. You’re my responsibility, and I just want to make sure you don’t get bombarded or overwhelmed or kidnapped.”
And there’s another layer shredded off Olivia Carpenter. Damn. She almost sounds sincere.
I nearly close the gap between us. She tilts her head to look up at me, and while my eyes lock with hers, I grab her arms and softly squeeze. “I’ll be fine, okay? Everything’s going to be great. Stop worrying. You’ve got this.”
Olivia looks at me as if she’s never heard words of encouragement before. “Right.” She nods, almost stunned. “Thanks.”
After the authors huddle together and take a group photo, the room is buzzing with VIP ticket holders dragging their big ass carts and wagons behind them. People are waiting in long lines, squealing over their favorite authors and shouting in excitement. It’s like a Black Friday sale for book lovers.
So far, I’ve taken pictures with Rachel at her table for readers and also stood and took some selfies with them. Rachel doesn’t get up for photos, so they have to come behind the table and pose with her. I kinda don’t blame her since she’d be getting up and down every five seconds, but I’d rather just stay standing at this point.
“The doors are about to open for the rest of the ticket holders,” Olivia warns.
“There’s more coming in?”
She chuckles slightly. “Yep. A lot more. So hold on to your shirt.”
Rachel looks back and forth between Olivia and me, and I wonder what she’s thinking. She’s not said much to me since she arrived. Pleasant and kind, but just not with many words.