by Melissa Blue
Wade waited until she went limp. “Better?” he asked.
She glanced at him, her eyes dreamy. “Is Pluto a planet?”
“Fuck, no.”
Her laugh ended on a moan as he pulled out of her. “Not better.”
He kissed the tip of her nose then chuckled. “I see your point.”
“I'll be fine if I can at least get you to not add 'fuck' to the 'no'.”
He sat down in his chair with a sigh. The ploy hadn't worked. Sophie's shoulders still rode high near her ears. Her gaze traveled down and stopped on his cock. His dick tented his board shorts.
Sophie's gaze brightened as she whispered, “If you answer every question in a way that pleases me...”
The exchange hung in the air. He smiled at the incentive. “I'm going to charm the shit out of Trevor tonight.”
“Thought so.” The doubts, the worries hadn't left her gaze.
He sighed. Impatience and annoyance whipped through him. Logically he got it. They were new and untested as a couple. She needed more time to get to a place where she truly trusted him, not just lip service.
But how long? How much time did she need? How long could he pretend to not see it before lashing out?
He sighed again and said, “But I need to concentrate on work and I can't with you here. I'm thinking of at least four places I can take you and finish the job.”
She readjusted her skirt before sliding off his desk. He shook his head at the nagging discomfort the previous thoughts had brought. They'd be fine.
Sophie ran her hands over the silky material. “I'll meet you at the studio?”
“Later.”
He watched her walk and there was a pep to her step that wasn't there when she'd come in. The knot forming in his gut should have let up, but...They were a couple, she had her walls up and...he hadn't told her the full truth. He wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
He'd tell her the moment—The first second he couldn't plainly see her apprehension, he'd tell her everything she was signing up for with him.
There wouldn't be pity. She'd see him. Just him. Not a reason to run, but Wade.
He rolled his shoulders and focused on work, ignoring the knot in his gut. Ignored the stone of dread lodging hard and heavy in his heart. They'd be fine.
*****
Though the green room's couch smelled and appeared new, the soft cushions embraced Sophie as every tense muscle gave way and her breathing steadied.
Wade had smiled at her before heading out to the sound stage. That image of him fixed in her mind. He'd showed up in a suit—a suit—a fresh hair cut and a gaze that was open and soft.
He did it for her. All of it. Her heart shouldn't have held the weight of Wade being sociable and professional for her. They were words he'd told her, but the man she'd met who had given her a grand tour that consisted of a belligerent expression and hand gestures to computers, was not the same man shaking hands with Trevor Smith on the green room's TV screens. There were two. One for real time and one that displayed the edited show as it aired.
Wade wore a professional smile, had slicked back hair and looked...genial. All the favors she'd pulled to get him on the show would pay off. And she had to pull plenty. People in her circle wanted legit celebrities. Even D listers. An astrophysicist? Without a book or controversy pushing his name? Yeah. She'd called in favors. Her rep was on the line and Wade would not fucked this up, because he did this, in part, to make her happy.
And that was why it was safe to say she was falling in love with Wade.
Her phone rang. She answered the call absently as Wade sat down and let himself get hooked up to the microphone.
“He looked good in the teaser,” Cal said. “Trevor's done another dye job to look more distinguished with gray hair. Works well with his sprayed on tan.”
She tore attention away from the screens. “Aren't you prepping for dinner rush?”
“There's this wonderful thing called being the boss. It allows me to delegate and sit on my ass as long as a disaster doesn't happen.”
Sophie had worked at her PR firm for so long her boss only stepped in when absolutely necessary. To be honest, with her work load and caliber of clients, Sophie needed a PA. But...that meant giving up an inch of control.
She asked, “And why are you so interested in one of his interviews?”
“I'm here for moral support when he fucks up.”
Her spine stiffened. Cal's lack of confidence was...hers. Wade was...Wade. People's emotions, beliefs were nails and his logic the hammer. He'd said he curtailed those instincts to be the hammer—for her, but actions always spoke louder.
No.
Those were insecurities talking. Ones she'd spilled out in weak moments to Cal. Of course, as a friend, he'd call to support her through this moment. She'd told him about the favors she'd called in to make the interview happen. She'd stuck out her neck and made promises to people she hadn't dealt with since Angelo. Wade had asked but she'd avoided the question. If she told him, that could have made him nervous. She didn't need a nervous Wade on her hands.
“He's not going to fuck up,” she said. “I've prepped him. He can answer any question Trevor throws his way. He's lived and breathed his life's work.”
This was the big time. This was live national television. She'd worked him up to this starting with podcasts, radio shows and forum hall lectures. Then the whole gambit again until his charm shined, his humor cut in a good way, and not once did his annoyance get the best of him.
“I've prepped him,” she said again.
“I've seen you do prep. You are fantastic. A normal client would be ready.”
She pulled back the phone to glare at it. Maybe her current sensitive emotional state kept her overly critical, but Cal didn't sound like he was on her side.
She brought the phone back to her ear. “Are you saying he's not normal?”
“I spent thirty minutes alone with him.”
Right. She crossed her legs. Finding out the full truth of that conversation had sat at the top of her to-do list for a few weeks. “And what was said?”
Cal sighed. “The interview's starting.”
It was a tactic to distract her, but the head's up was the truth. The line went quiet. She pushed out a breath when things went along as they should. Trevor led the conversation with predictable questions perfect for a fifteen minute guest spot. The man was a professional and veteran host. He gave Wade perfect segues to keep the conversation going and focused on his work.
Cal said, “Huh.”
“What?”
“He's really smart.”
“You didn't pick that up in the thirty minute bonding session?”
Cal chuckled. “I think he dumbs down to communicate so it's easy to forget he's a verified genius.”
It was her turn to say, “Huh.”
She'd never thought of him in that way. He straddled two worlds. The one that had his friends was as important as his work. He made the effort to connect with them anyway. Sometimes that translation ended in a rough and sharp exchange. She admired him a little more for that effort. And no wonder he often sounded frustrated or annoyed.
“He's prickly.” And I adore him. “You can say it.”
“Thank God,” Cal teased in a dramatic tone. “I didn't want to be the first to say it.”
She pursed her lips as she watched Wade. Everything and nothing had changed between them. A tension remained despite their domestic harmony, and she couldn't help but hold her breath, braced for the worst.
From both TVs Trevor said, “Let's do a rapid round. I throw out a question and you give me your first response.”
All the warmth and pride building in her chest turned to ice in her gut. She popped up from the couch. “No. No. No. No.”
It was one thing to answer prepared and predictable questions. That she'd covered ad nauseum. Another to flirt with Wade's unfiltered thoughts.
Wade's gaze tracked to the camera then he laugh
ed. “That's probably not a good idea.”
Cal said, “You gotta go. I know.”
Sophie didn't wait to end the call and within seconds she cleared the green room, running down the hall to the sound stage. She made it in time to see Trevor ask, “Are there aliens?”
Was the man reading directly from the dumb question list?
Wade scratched his brow and sighed before answering with, “As vast as the universe is, it's arrogant to believe we are the only sentient beings that exist.”
Trevor stammered, “You believe green little men abduct people—”
“I don't recall saying anything about green little men, and it's odd to jump to a conclusion of what an extraterrestrial looks like based on witness testimony. Testimony of people who admit to being anally probed by little green men, who all come back without a single shred of evidence.”
Trevor brows rose then he laughed. “You don't believe trauma could somehow change an abductee's priorities?”
“On vacation people often take hotel soap, shampoo and lotion. The crappiest soap, shampoo and lotion. A human being finds themselves on a space ship, thousands of people at different times over the years, and not one of them pockets anything? That's not including trace evidence that could be found and has never been found on their bodies.”
Trevor referred to his notes, his knuckles looked white from how hard he held them. “So I can assume you don't believe in UFOs either.”
Wade squinted and tilted his head. She knew that tic. Without saying a word, he was calling Trevor a dumb ass for even asking the question. “Do I believe in unidentified flying objects? Yes. There are flying objects I cannot always identify, but most I can because my degrees weren't made from wishful thinking.”
Sophie put her head in her hands, and stood off to the side of the camera. What else could she do? And because she couldn't help but watch the train wreck, she peeked through her fingers.
Trevor spread his hands in surrender as though he was giving up the line of questioning. “What happens if you fall into a black hole?”
In a matter of fact tone, Wade said, “You'd be crushed to death.”
“So all those movies where you enter one and can through travel time?”
“Those movies are made by people who have great imaginations and a disregard for facts. Best known as writers.”
“Could you explain dark matter?”
“I could.”
A two second beat of silence followed. Sophie dropped her hands and wished for vodka.
Trevor's cheeks darkened to a shade of crimson, but a smile crested over his mouth. “Can you put a measuring tape to the universe and find out how big it is?”
“The short answer is no. There are about three minutes left on this interview so I don't think there's enough time for the long one.”
“Give it an ol' college try.”
Sophie couldn't tell if the older man's tone was condescending or offended. Either way...let it rain vodka.
“We have only been able to observe a small portion of the universe. It's...like looking at a family portrait. So far mom, dad and the family dog can be seen. As our technology has gotten better more of that portrait is revealed, and we have observed the family is growing, and shrinking. So even if we are able to guess there's mom, dad, the dog and three kids, by the time the full picture is revealed, mom and dad are going at it and adding children. Some kids are moving out too.”
“So you don't know.”
Wade shook his head. “It is believed the universe is infinite.”
“It never ends?”
“And how do you began to measure something with a beginning but no ending? Something that both shrinks and grows? You can measure what you see, and we have, but the true answer is that the universe is infinite. Now your production manager is looking tense with twenty seconds left on the clock and I know for a fact my publicist is. Our time is up.” Wade offered his hand to the man.
Trevor took it. “Thank you and I'd love to have you back and ask you about global warming.”
“You might regret it, but I'll come back. I actually enjoyed myself today.”
Trevor faced the camera instead of addressing that backhanded compliment and closed out the show, reminding everyone they could find Wade at the observatory. The light cut off. Show over.
Sophie did her best to wipe off the oh-shit-this-is-going-be-bad expression off her face. She greeted the older man with every ounce of aplomb she could manage as he passed by. He offered her a glare and kept going. She could see her career going up in flames, and Wade dancing in the fucking ashes. Her stomach rode up her throat as Trevor's production manager trailed behind him in a much slower pace.
The harried woman asked, “When can we have him again?”
She blinked and glanced to Wade. They were unhooking him from his microphone while he wiped at the makeup on his face with a deep scowl. “You want him back?”
“That last segment is going to go viral. Everyone is scared of Trevor and I've seen some of the most egotistical blowhards crumble when he does the rapid question segment on the fly.”
That should have reassured her. Everything hadn't gone to shit, but she wouldn't know until she called the owner of the news station. Her PR firm had a longstanding contract with them. Her boss would be livid if anything strained that relationship.
“Contact my office and we'll set things up.”
The producer rush away, and Sophie drew her attention to Wade again. He was making his way over. She did not want to have the conversation they needed to have near cameras. She whirled on her heel and headed back the way she'd come.
The door clicked closed after Wade. She couldn't even look at him.
“That went well,” he said.
“Well?” She faced him, anger finally sinking in. The only thing she could depend on, without question was her work, and he'd threatened it. He described that as well? Nothing was okay.
Her chest constricted at the grave expression he wore. He was braced.
Even seeing that she couldn't stop from saying, “You got lucky. Anyone else, with the size of Trevor's ego, would have made sure you never ended up on another show. People like him have connections. You aren't selling a book, you haven't made some new scientific discovery. And that doesn't even mean a producer somewhere else would let you on their show after what you just did.”
He pitched the question softly, “And what did I just do?”
He'd been Wade. A watered down version but just as abrasive, impatient and quick to let someone know they were an idiot. He'd been a man that could tear her world apart. “You know. I coached you. If you felt the need to answer in a way—”
“Right,” he said. “I did take a deep breath. Did I say anything the FCC wouldn't approve of?”
“Anal probing.”
“Anally is fine. I looked it up.”
“This isn't a joke.”
“I'm not laughing, Sophie. Why are you upset?”
She'd...hoped that he wouldn't disappoint her. That he'd be different. “You know how important this interview was and if the production manager thought of anything but ratings, you would have bombed it. It's a slap to the face.”
“If my publicist didn't wrap her ego in everything her clients did or didn't do, she wouldn't take this as a slight.”
The accusation pulled her up short. She had to rebuild her reputation brick by brick. Why shouldn't she have pride in that? Why shouldn't she feel protective of that personal investment? “You were pissed at me when I wanted to turn your career into a sound bite. But I'm touchy when I've pulled favors to get you on the show and you go and be an asshole?”
“That's not what I mean.” His voice was calm. Very calm. “What I did wasn't a personal affront to you or the work you've done, Ms. Lake.”
She flinched at the use of her last name. “I'm back to being just your publicist?”
“Right now, yes. I'm arguing with Ms. Lake.”
And he was right. Thi
s is why she didn't sleep with clients. The lines blurred. If she wore her companion hat, she might have found his answers amusing or smart, but this was her work. The last thing she had when all else went to shit.
He scoffed and took off the suit jacket. “I'll catch up with you later.”
Her heart stopped. “What? You're going to leave?”
“Is Sophie asking or Ms. Lake?”
“Same person,” she snapped at him.
He dropped his gaze to the floor and breathed, long and hard. “Then I'm not having this argument right now. I'm trying to be nice.”
“Thought you didn't believe in it.” The words left her mouth and she regretted them.
His jaw tightened. He remained quiet as he took in another long breath. The trick she taught him if he ever felt compelled to reply in a scorched-earth manner. “Ms. Lake, I think we should talk later when our tempers have calmed down and you've removed your head from your ass.”
That hit hurt. “You knew this interview was important. Why did you try to blow it? Why couldn't you pretend for fifteen minutes you weren't...” She stopped the words. He didn't deserve them.
Shadows clouded his blue eyes anyway. “Your broken parts are showing, Sophie.”
The words were a whisper. They still slammed into her hard enough her breath shuddered out. “What?”
They both knew she heard him. He didn't bother to repeat them. “If you want a reason to walk then walk.” He sounded so calm. So reasonable. “You've known who I am since the day we met. Don't use my behavior today as an out. I don't know why the interview tap-danced on your insecurities, but if you are done with me, just be done. Don't do this.”
Was she blowing this out of proportion? She'd told him this interview dictated how the rest of his campaign would run. How could he not know everything he did reflected either positively or negatively on her work? On her. So, no. Her gut had every reason to clench. Every ounce of dread sloshing in her stomach was valid. He'd said he...cared for her, but not even that could make him act decent for a fifteen minute interview. How could she ever feel safe with him?
“I don't know you, Wade. Not where it counts the most.”
His mouth pinched for a second. “Like what?”