Hot Number (Hot Zone Book 2)

by Carly Phillips

  Micki smiled. “I was hoping I could give you all a quick PR course before we leave tonight,” Micki offered. “Because Damian won’t be the only one who’s going to get cornered or pestered for answers.”

  All of the Fuller family’s eyes turned her way.

  “We’re happy to hear anything Damian’s publicist and friend has to say.” Adrienne seemed to welcome her with her warm gaze and soft voice.

  “Okay then. Just a few helpful hints in case the press gets ahold of you.”

  “We’ve all been screening our calls with caller ID,” Brenda said.

  Micki stood and took center stage among Damian’s family. She was used to public speaking, but in this case she felt scrutinized in a more personal way. No doubt his sisters wondered about the true nature of her relationship with their brother, but there was nothing Micki could do about it. Damian’s recent exploits would cause many people to wonder. It was something he’d have to live with. Something she’d have to ignore now.

  “Screening calls won’t stop a determined reporter from accosting you in the supermarket or while you’re taking the kids into dance class. But you have a few strategies at your disposal.”

  “Such as?” Damian’s mother asked.

  Micki held up one finger. “There’s the old ‘no comment’ and keep walking.” She raised a second finger in the air. “There’s the redirect, in which you just tell them to call your brother’s publicist and hand out my card that I’ll leave with you all.” She paused and lifted a third finger to join the other two. “Or you can just tell them to go away or you’ll call the police and report them for harassment, especially if they’re bothering you when the kids are around.”

  Damian watched Micki take charge of his boisterous family. Obviously in her element, her suggestions were to the point, succinct, and also well thought out. She impressed him on so many levels he couldn’t begin to count them all.

  He hadn’t thought to ask her to coach his family but he was grateful she’d done so on her own. As for his sisters, to Damian’s amazement, his talkative nosy siblings had shut up and were listening to Micki intently. His mother was scribbling notes on a small pad she always kept in her purse and his father was watching Micki with a huge grin on his face, no small feat considering his worry over Damian’s messed-up life.

  “Any questions?” Micki asked.

  “I have one.” Ronnie, his youngest and most outspoken sibling raised a hand in the air.

  “She’s not a teacher and you aren’t in school,” Marissa said, laughing.

  “Well, whatever. I just want to know if you’re here because Damian’s paying you to help him.”

  “Or if you’re here because you care about Damian,” Brenda chimed in, helping Ronnie out in embarrassing him.

  Damian didn’t meet Micki’s gaze. Instead he jumped up from his seat. “Hey, that’s uncalled for. I’m the only one who can put Micki on the spot and that’s not going to happen right now. We have to get back to the city, so the inquisition is over.”

  The trio didn’t argue, which meant they knew they were out of line. Damian used the next few minutes to hug, kiss, say goodbye and thank them all for being in his corner even through such an awkward mess. Even Micki was treated to warm hugs and kisses goodbye, making Damian happy he’d brought her along.

  Ronnie promised to fill her husband in on the conversation since he’d gone home to relieve the babysitter. But it was Marissa’s and Brenda’s older teenage girls who concerned Damian most. He knew the teens looked up to their famous uncle and so he promised to have a talk with his older nieces when this all blew over, including discussing the uncomfortable topic of safe sex.

  It was the least he could do in exchange for the public scandal he’d caused.

  * * *

  Micki slept on the ride back to the city, waking up just as the car came to a stop in front of her building. She glanced at her watch. It was almost midnight. She was beyond exhausted from a very emotional day and night, and her body ached from the uncomfortable position she’d been in.

  She rubbed her eyes and focused on the handsome, sexy man sitting before her. “I fell asleep again,” she said, embarrassed.

  “Don’t worry about it. So did I.” He stretched, and her gaze fell to the muscles in his forearms and his tanned skin.

  Her mouth grew dry and she wished she had a bottle of water to quench her thirst. Better that than wishing she could kiss him and find the moisture she was lacking.

  “In the end it was a good idea to bring me tonight.”

  Damian smiled. “Left alone, who knows how my sisters would have handled the reporters.” He grimaced at the thought of subjecting his family to scrutiny they hadn’t signed up for. “You helped my family out a lot. I appreciate it.”

  “Well, your family is special and I’m glad I got to meet them.”

  “They said the same thing about you.” He paused before saying what was on his mind, then decided what the hell. “Actually, the last thing my father said was that I should grab onto you and not let you go.”

  His genuine, warm smile stole what was left of Micki’s breath. “That’s sweet.”

  She stepped out of the car, Damian right behind her. When she turned, she found herself staring into his compelling eyes. The hot and humid summer air wafted around them, increasing the heat that rose between them.

  She tried to hang onto her focus and keep her desire at bay. “I’ve been wondering about something.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Your parents are happily married, and so are your sisters. They all have kids and they obviously get through any problems together.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “What’s your point?” he asked.

  She struggled to find the words and decided just to state her thoughts, no matter how personal they seemed. “I guess I’m wondering why, faced with all that, you fight so hard against settling down yourself?”

  He shook his head and let out a soft, sexy, rumbling laugh. “I’ve asked myself the same question many times.” He braced his hand on the top of the car and leaned his head against his shoulder. “Do you put a lot of stock in birth order?”

  Interesting question, she thought. “A fair amount, I guess. I mean, because I was the youngest, Annabelle felt she had to protect me most after our parents died. She took the brunt of the burden and shielded me from the possibility of foster care if Uncle Yank didn’t want to raise us. She was an adult way before her time.”

  “And I was the baby who never had to grow up,” he said. “My sisters catered to me and mothered me. And I’ve been lucky in that everything I’ve wanted has come pretty easily.”

  She immediately waved away his point. “You’re known for your work ethic so I wouldn’t say things came easily,” she chided.

  “I’m not saying I didn’t work hard at my career, but I had more lucky breaks than most.” He shook his head and laughed, a self-deprecating sound that told Micki he’d given her original question way more previous thought than she’d given him credit for. “When everything goes your way, you get spoiled. I got spoiled. Hell, I am spoiled. I’m also petrified of losing everything I have,” he admitted.

  “So…”

  “I work overtime to maintain the image, including the perception of the partying guy with no injuries and no weaknesses.”

  “And you think if you let yourself get involved with anyone who means something to you, you’ll lose the one thing that means everything to you. Your career.”

  “I’m amazed you get it,” he said, his tone filled with surprise and an almost reluctant admiration.

  She glanced down at the sidewalk, scuffing the bottom of her shoes against the pavement. “I guess that’s what comes from my spending a lifetime hanging around with professional jocks. I understand the world you deal in.”

  “We do have that world in common,” he said gruffly.

  Emotion emanated from him and shook her up inside because, although tonight had been about business, sh
e somehow felt closer to him than she had before. Given the circumstances, closer unnerved her.

  “But as much as I stand by my choices to keep my career going, I was a damn idiot to get involved with a woman like Carole. She was a meaningless fling and now I may be tied to her for the rest of my life.”

  “Payback’s a bitch,” Micki said, forcing a chuckle. But the pain in her heart wasn’t at all amusing. Because, as he’d spoken, she’d realized that their time on the island was probably also a meaningless fling.

  Suddenly he reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “You and I weren’t the same as me and Carole,” he said, reading her mind.

  “I didn’t think I was.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah, you did. And I can’t say I gave you any reason to believe otherwise.”

  She forced a smile. “Not to worry, I know where we stand.”

  “No, I don’t think you do.” He stared at her, his gaze compelling and enigmatic all at the same time. “Let me walk you inside?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  She watched the struggle inside him until finally he stepped back. “Okay then. I’ll meet you outside the doctor’s office tomorrow?”

  She blinked, surprised. “The paternity test consultation? You don’t need PR help for that.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. But I do need you by my side for moral support.”

  Micki groaned. “Damian…”

  “Please.” He met her gaze, his eyes imploring and his tone holding a desperate quality she couldn’t resist.

  “Sure.” She heard herself agreeing, her stomach in knots over involving herself in something so personal.

  He exhaled hard, obviously relieved. “Thank you. Again.”

  She forced a smile. She certainly couldn’t say it was her pleasure.

  “Sleep tight,” he said in a husky voice.

  She forced a smile. “You, too.”

  Later that night, alone in her bed, she didn’t have to wonder why she felt so empty and alone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Micki had a long day ahead of her and no time to come home in between meetings, work and the dinner party for Uncle Yank’s birthday. With no alternative, she took the dress she’d bought for the occasion, zipped it into a garment bag and took it with her to work so she could change there. She arrived at the office by 7:00 a.m. to reschedule some appointments and leave a few notes for Amy before heading over to the doctor’s office on Park Avenue to meet Damian.

  She had knots in her stomach over the idea of discussing paternity tests and Damian’s sexual relationship with another woman. She understood his need to have someone there for support, but after thinking things over and over last night, she’d decided she wasn’t the right person for the job.

  She turned the corner and found Damian already standing outside the door, leaning against a black iron handrail. In his jeans and light blue Polo collared shirt, he was the sexiest man on Park Avenue. In fact, he was one of the only men on this part of Park Avenue so early in the morning, which was a good thing because she didn’t think she could handle this conversation in front of an audience.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said, walking toward her.

  She gathered her courage as she launched right into the speech she’d prepared last night. “I completely understand you needing moral support and I want to be there for you. I really do. But this is just too much. I don’t belong here and I’m really not comfortable sitting down with a doctor discussing how long ago you impregnated another woman.” She forced the words out in a rush or she knew she’d never say them at all.

  She was as much as admitting she had feelings for the man and that really wasn’t something she’d ever wanted him to know. Not when he was incapable of reciprocating. “So now that you know how I feel, I can get back to the office.”

  Micki turned and started down the street, searching for the nearest taxi as she ran. She still hadn’t made peace with her high heels and she wobbled more than once, turning her ankle painfully and destroying any hope she had for a dignified exit.

  “Micki!” Damian called after her.

  Thank goodness a yellow cab with its lights on rounded the corner. She waved. The car came to a screeching halt. At the same time she reached for the door, Damian caught up with her. She opened the door but he held it, preventing her from getting in.

  “Micki, please. I just want to talk to you,” he said, breathing heavily.

  She swallowed but her throat was tight. “When I agreed to help you out I didn’t know how hard it would be,” she admitted, her heart pounding in her chest, proving her words with each heavy beat.

  “I didn’t realize either,” he said softly, his breath warm against her neck.

  “Hey lady, you getting in or not?” the cabdriver asked impatiently.

  Micki turned to Damian, whose gaze was soft and understanding. “Just sit in the waiting room and as soon as I’m finished, we’ll talk.”

  Her head throbbed, her ankle hurt and her heart ached like mad. “I must be insane,” she said more to herself than to Damian. She glanced at the cabbie through the open passenger’s side window. “I’m sorry to have taken your time,” she told him and slammed the door shut instead of getting inside.

  “Thank you.” Damian grabbed her hand and held on tight. “I already told you I can act like a spoiled son of a bitch sometimes.” His lips turned upward in an embarrassed grin, but his relief at having stopped her exit was palpable.

  “Yeah, you did.” But for some reason she was still standing by his side.

  An hour later, he walked out of the doctor’s office and insisted they grab a cup of coffee. She’d already touched base with Amy at the office and knew her 11:00 a.m. appointment had canceled, freeing up her time, so she agreed.

  They settled into seats at Sara Beth’s Kitchen and quickly placed their orders. Micki was grateful for the fresh, hot coffee, but she wasn’t much interested in her Danish.

  Damian guzzled his caffeine, needing the fortification desperately. When he was finished, he placed his mug aside and met her gaze from across the small table. For several moments, he simply stared at her, unsure of what to say or where to begin.

  He only knew he owed her an apology. Silence surrounded them and though it was morning-rush time, the restaurant was atypically quiet for a weekday. He’d brought her here because they had a lot to discuss and he didn’t want to do it over the phone. Until she’d nearly bolted on him this morning, he hadn’t realized how much he counted on her comforting presence and solid support.

  In the instant she’d taken off down the street, he’d been forced to acknowledge that she was so much more than a friend who was holding his hand through a crisis. He didn’t know how much more and at this moment he couldn’t see the point in delving too deeply. He also didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing he was coming to care for her deeply—not when another woman and her baby stood between them, as did his fucked-up life and the career he was still trying desperately to hang on to.

  He dragged his chair closer, moving so he sat directly beside her. His thigh brushed her bare leg and he savored the warmth of her body heat. “I’m sorry this has been so hard for you.”

  “Professionally it’s the right way to handle things.”

  “But like you said, this morning’s appointment wasn’t at all a professional request.”

  She shook her head. “Never mind that. Friends stand by friends.”

  His gut churned uncomfortably at her casual use of the word.

  “So what exactly did the doctor say?” she asked.

  Her question forced him to focus. “Are you sure you want to hear about it?”

  She nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to be there for the discussion. I can handle hearing the news from you.”

  “Basically he said there’re three types of testing.” He reached into his pocket for the brochure the doctor had given him and scanned the paper again so he could accurately ex
plain. “Two are invasive and could be dangerous to the fetus. The last one is a simple blood test involving just the mother and potential father’s blood samples. The lab extracts fetal blood cells from the mother’s sample and compares the DNA to the potential father’s. That would be me.” He pressed his lips together, anger at himself welling up again.

  “When can it be done safely?”

  He glanced at Micki, whose normally flushed skin had grown pale during this awkward conversation. “Any time after twelve weeks.” Damian had already done the math. Assuming Carole had gotten pregnant their last time together in April, they were just approaching twelve weeks. “Which means we’re pretty close to being able to do the test,” he said, sparing Micki the details.

  “I see. And how is Carole handling all this?” she asked, her voice tight as she unsuccessfully tried to withhold any emotion.

  “I don’t know,” he said, gripping his coffee cup tighter in his hand. “I haven’t been in touch with her.”

  “That’s awful!”

  He winced. “It’s not as cold and callous as it seems.” He glanced down, embarrassed about what Micki must think of him. “At first I needed time to digest the news. I needed time to arrange things like this test. And I needed to deal with the idea of possibly being a father.”

  “And have you?” she asked.

  He shrugged, uncertainty still rioting through him. “I don’t know. I can accept it if the test is positive. It’s hard to deal with it when it’s not even a reality yet.”

  “I understand that.”

  “But thanks to you, I’m taking steps in the right direction and beginning to wrap my brain around it. On the way over this morning I called my lawyer to set up an appointment to put a trust fund together if the baby is mine.” He looked into her blue eyes. “I needed to do all these things before I could go to Carole and discuss things coherently.”

  Micki exhaled slowly. “I can’t imagine what this has been like for you. I know that you’re in limbo with Carole and that you’re worried about your career, and I know that you’re taking a beating in the press—”