by Bria Quinlan
That was a plus, but not so much that we needed a door guy.
Or guys plural.
“What else?” I asked in what could only be my new jaded dating-a-celebrity voice.
“We’ll sign for packages and deal with repair and deliver guys.”
This was sounding way too good for the deep sigh he’d given me.
“And?”
“We’ll help the older residents with getting their stuff upstairs.”
Again…too good. “And.”
He gave the sigh again, his gaze slipping away as he mumbled something about his start date being really conveniently timed.
“And, we’ll take care of security.”
“Security?” Because this was the first I was hearing about it.
“Yes. Apparently there’d been some complaints.”
“Complaints from whom?” This was getting fishier by the moment and I was going to have to nip this in the bud…or further up the stem apparently.
“I couldn’t say.”
Mm-hmmm.
“Complaints about what?”
“I really couldn’t say.”
Right. He couldn’t say.
“So, basically,” I unzipped my jacket because my anger was working up some serious heat, “there have been undisclosed complaints about undisclosed issues by undisclosed people and so you’re here to make it all better.”
“That’s roughly what I would assume.”
Right. Like he didn’t know.
I gave him the squinty eyes.
He didn’t cave.
Darn trained security people.
I didn’t know who I was going to get to first, Marjory or Connor—who I suspect had a hand in this if he knew about the foyer. If Marjory was pressuring him to upgrade the building by basically blackmailing him with these undisclosed complaints, she and I were going to have quite the throwdown.
“Right.” Because what was I going to say? It wasn’t Dan’s fault my tiny little, quiet building on a moderately okay not horribly priced street just a few blocks from a halfway decent neighborhood I could absolutely never afford was suddenly getting upgrades that didn’t make sense to the average person. “Thanks. It was nice to meet you.”
“You too, ma’am.”
“Yeah. Except for that. Please call me Hailey.” Because I was way too young to be ma’amed. And would be until I was eighty.
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Hailey, ma’am.”
Oh geez.
I climbed the stairs, pulling out my phone as I went because this was obviously a call-worthy event.
Connor’s phone went right to voicemail so he must still be in meetings.
Of course, since I was in paranoid, suspicious mode, maybe he was on the phone with someone else. Someone who now currently was working at the front door of my formerly quiet, non-descript building.
Maybe it was better I didn’t get him right away. I really needed to think this all through.
What was I going to say? What the heck are you doing putting really nice, tastefully done, one-way glassed foyers into the architecture of the building, and stationing good looking doormen who will keep us safe and care for the elderly folks? Yeah, that sounded rational.
Of course, rational seemed to be flying out the window right now, so who was I to judge?
13
I was crashing Monday night when the phone rang.
Because I typically ignored the phone when home alone, Connor had changed my ringtone for his number. Last time was I’m Too Sexy.
Apparently this trip was If You Think I’m Sexy.
Yes—I was seeing the theme.
I rolled over, reaching for the phone without bothering to turn the bedside light on.
“Hello, Ricco? I’ve been waiting for you to call all night.”
There was a sputtering on the other end of the line before Connor’s voice came over with the lamest Spanish accent I’d ever heard. “Si, my little señorita. I apologize for the delay.”
“Oh, that was just…horrible.” I laughed out loud, so happy to hear his voice, bad accent and all. “How are you?”
He paused, and I wondered what was going on on the other side of the country where he sat.
“Good.” He drew the word out like there was something else, something not good he may have to share with me.
“But?”
“Nothing. Everything’s good.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“Anything you wanted to tell me?”
Pause.
“Um…” I could practically hear him thinking.
“Maybe, something local?” I hinted.
“Local to me right now?”
He sounded hopeful and I could picture him running through his Google Alerts looking for something he’d done on the West Coast that had landed him on a gossip site. I’m betting at this point he’d be excited for anything he could use to divert away from the new security measures here.
“No. This coast.”
You knew the man was desperate. He’d probably even gotten a call from Security Dan to give him a heads up.
After a moment, he caved. “So, yeah. I kind of hired a front door guy.”
“You hired a security team, Connor.” The exasperation was clearly coming out in my voice. “You can’t just do that.”
“I didn’t just do it. Marjory was being a complete pain about the paparazzi and stuff.”
“When?” I demanded.
“What?” He sounded surprised by the question.
“When did she harass you about the security?”
“Oh. It’s been pretty ongoing. I swear she knows when I’m coming over. She always manages to be in the hall or stairway when I’m coming up. I think she makes her cat watch for me.”
“Really? Her cat?”
“Yeah. Unless she has bugged Dex’s phone and figured out what he knows about tracking me from that.”
“Connor, seriously.”
“I’m being serious,” he huffed.
Frighteningly, he may have been.
“Why didn’t you talk to me about this?”
“The harassing or the door guy?”
“Both!”
This was the stuff that was flipping me out. Like the emergency contact stuff. Stuff we didn’t know. That he’d do something this drastic without telling me… Well, it made me really nervous.
“I guess I didn’t tell you about the harassing thing because I didn’t really notice it at first.”
“You didn’t notice it?” How was that even possible? If someone was demanding things of me like a security team I would darn well notice.
“Do you know how many people approach me on a daily basis about stupid stuff?”
Oh. Well. Yeah, there was that.
“Okay.” Because I’d been witness to it way too often. “But what about the doorman?”
He sighed, a different kind of sighing. And I realized he was taking this seriously. Which made me happy and nervous.
“I guess, I thought if you knew, you’d try to talk me out of it. You’d say things like, Well, what if we’re not dating in a few months, or something and then I’d panic.” He paused, the kind of weighted silence where you knew something else was coming. “I guess I just didn’t want to know if you weren’t thinking long term like I was or not. I wanted to pretend that no matter what, this was it and I was just taking care of things to keep you safe.”
“Oh.”
I mean…oooohhh.
“And, even if you dump me or something, I’d still want you to be safe. That was the deal I made with Marjory. That I’d cover the door for an additional year after the end of our relationship.”
“You’re covering the door?”
“That is not the part I was hoping you’d comment on first.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on dumping you.” It hadn’t even dawned on me that he might worry about that.
“Oh. Well.” He cleared his throat. “Good.”
Which just made this odder all around.
“I’ll let you go back to sleep.” He cleared his throat again. “I miss you.”
I struggled between the wanting to hear his voice and the dozing off thing, but ended up just saying “you too” and slipping back into my nighttime coma.
14
Connor barged into my tiny apartment and I wondered again why we weren’t spending most of our time across town in his glass-and-exposed-brick-modern penthouse. It wasn’t like all the reasons that existed before mattered anymore. The paparazzi had laid off for the most part and his doorman really didn’t have any information to feed anyone since we were out in the public as a real couple now.
Well, you know, an actual real couple. As opposed to when we were out in the public as a fake real couple.
Hanging out at Connor’s should have been an all clear.
“So, Hails.”
Connor stuck his hands in his pockets and hovered over me where I sat staring at a basically blank screen. “I went for a run today and made a big decision. I’m hoping you think it’s a good idea.” He glanced away, looking a bit skittish. “It’s a huge commitment but I think you’ll be happy with it.”
I turned in my chair, trying not to panic that he’d finally gotten his mind wrapped around us getting married.
Which, if he thought proposing to me while I worked and he hovered nearby in sweaty workout clothes was going to fly, he was more than sadly mistaken.
I stood up and put on my best stall tactic face. “Are you sure you want to talk about this right now?”
“Yes.” He started pacing again. Never a good Connor-sign. “I’m kind of excited now that I’ve thought it through.”
Well, at least he was excited. But honestly, if he wasn’t excited before maybe he shouldn’t be so excited now.
I brushed by him, heading for the couch where at least we’d be on a more even basis for whatever this conversation led to.
I couldn’t believe here I was, about to say yes—or no—to my boyfriend—who I loved—about getting married. Especially since I couldn’t think of a less romantic setting. I sniffed in his direction trying to figure out if he smelled sweaty and everything. And, now, was I ready? I’d thought I was and then it became a non-issue and I stopped worrying about all the friend-adding drama. But, if this was the big moment, was I ready or were they right?
Stupid emergency meeting. I was never calling an a.m. meeting again.
“I think this is going to be great.” He grinned, so pleased with himself. “For both of us,” he rushed on.
Which, if he didn’t think it was going to be great for both of us, then we were starting off even worse than I thought.
“You’re going to get a lot of use out of this arrangement.” Connor took my hand and nodded as if it were a done deal.
Use? We were going to have to have another talk about his ego and my career.
Right after I saw the ring.
And decided if I was saying yes.
“I’ve decided…” He took a deep breath and I thought again that this was the weirdest proposal ever.
Of course, for a relationship that began with blackmail based off of our agents and a bet gone wrong, I guess nothing seemed too out of bounds.
He took another breath and smiled at me. “I’m learning to set down roots. Be a grownup. I want to do things right. So, I’m asking—”
“Wait!”
I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I would say yes or no. How was that possible? I was four words away from a proposal from one of the country’s most eligible bachelors and I didn’t know if should say yes.
I wanted to. I’d never thought about not saying yes. But all I could hear was Jenna’s voice running through my head with doubt…doubt…doubt.
I mean, I loved him. I knew I loved him. And I even liked him, which figuring with how things started, was a minor miracle.
But was Jenna right about marriage so soon?
This was completely Jenna’s fault. Before I was just panicked about what my life would be like. How it would change. That things were moving fast.
Now I had to worry about if it was even right because besties wouldn’t challenge a proposal unless they had some serious issue. Right? It would have to be like world-ending-issues.
What if I was just blinded by his charm and abs. Was that possible? I mean, they were lovely abs. And he was charming. Although, to be honest, the charm typically annoyed or amused me. And I loved him I really did. He was—
I realized he’d gone on with his proposal while I sat there panicking.
“…Nick to become my full-time personal assistant. If it works out, he’ll take over more of the management stuff. And he can do all that stuff you’re always wishing you could hire someone once every couple months to do. Book travel for events, help with ordering stuff…”
Connor’s voice faded out and a low, droning buzz filled my ears, weaving through my brain and trying to shove my eyes out of the socket from behind.
“You’re asking Nick to go full-time?”
“Yup.” He looked so proud.
“With you?”
“Yes. He’ll have to dump his other two clients. Especially since he’ll need to work overtime when you need him. But this will allow me to really focus on the important stuff and stop worrying about details. Having Nick on call has been great, but I think I really need to get my ducks in a row.”
Did he just say ducks in a row?
“Plus,” he went on, “I think it will be good for him.”
“So, Nick…” I was still having trouble wrapping my head around this.
“Hails, do you not like him? I thought you guys got along.” Connor scooted closer to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Obviously, if you don’t want him around that much, it wouldn’t work. I’ll make other arrangements.”
“No. I like Nick.” Plus, he and Connor had become something of friends lately.
Last week I came home—to my condo where neither of them actually lived—to find both of them on my couch playing video games on my TV. Okay, it was Connor’s TV because he said no one should have to watch the action movies—or SportsCenter—on an old box set.
But still, it was kind of surreal.
“Nick’s great.” I pushed on, shoving the picture of a delicate, understated diamond to the back of my mind. “I guess I was just surprised you decided to make that offer. I mean, if you’re doing it because of my occasional travel and stuff, it’s really not that often.”
“No. It’s not just that.” Connor leaned back next to me, pulling me into him. “I’ve just been thinking that I need to start making some grown-up decisions. I’m looking at how I’m going to transition into the next section of my career. See if I can start doing those guest interview segments. I’m already trying to shift my sponsorships away from things like Harbor Island Beer. I want to make sure I’m not missing anything or worrying about stuff I don’t need to. I want to just be able to focus on life when I’m living it.”
I laid my head against his chest, wondering how Connor had managed to grow up in such a short time. Especially since it took him about thirty-years to reach that point.
“Okay. So, when are you going to see if Nick’s interested?”
“Huh.” Connor trailed the tips of his fingers up and down the length of my arm, teasing under the loose hem of my t-shirt’s sleeve.
“Huh, what?”
“I forgot I have to ask him.”
I rolled my eyes, glad he couldn’t see me, and settled in. That seemed to be his MO lately.
15
“So, I thought we could do something a little different today.” Connor stood in my “dining room” at the end of my office-slash-coat-closet looking really expectant. For what? W
ho knows.
I glanced at my manuscript that was skimming along at a fairly decent pace for something that was brand new and thought about telling him to go away...and maybe even considered changing the locks on the apartment.
But Security Dan would probably just break him back in, so what was the point?
Plus, he had been gone all last weekend. Doing something together was a good thing.
I made a note of what was going on and where I thought it was going, saved my manuscript, and stood up to stretch the kinks out.
“Sure. What did you want to do today?” Hopefully not something like ice skating in the Common. Romantic and sweet, yes. Cold, also yes.
“I thought you could help me. I’m going to go to that store where we got the chair to do some shopping.”
“For what?”
“I need to do some redecorating.” Connor glanced around, not meeting my eyes. “My place is too much of a bachelor pad.”
I considered pointing out that he was a bachelor, but since that was part of the problem I was having right now understanding where said bachelorhood stood, I passed on that.
I couldn’t help but wonder about this sudden need though since he was never at his place. Maybe his parents were coming to visit. He had a small problem with the fact that his mother wouldn’t let him pay to put them up in hotels. He tried to explain that he could buy her a small hotel, but she just saw them as a waste of money.
“What exactly is it you plan on redecorating?” I had a rough time trying to picture his apartment since we weren’t there very often.
Beyond that, my apartment had The Chair. And a TV…and his Keurig…and an Xbox. Connor had also recently stated that it was closer to Nick’s place. As if this made sense to me.
“I thought I could start by making it a little…” Connor glanced around my apartment, probably looking for the right word. “Cozier.”
Cozy. For the first couple weeks we dated I thought cozy translated to tiny. Apparently in Connor-speak, cozy translated to, well…cozy.
I just hadn’t thought of Playboy Athlete as being someone who would appreciate cozy.