“Jilly! You’re here. I got you this.” He handed me the cotton candy. Marvelous. “Glad you finally showed up because, besides the surprise I have for you, the lines for the rides are going to get really long as soon as the park officially opens, and I don’t want to miss Screaming Scare Train. I hate waiting in the lines.”
“Saturdays in SoCal are all about lines.”
His shoulders fell. “I know, right? Back when I was a kid in Montana, the only lines we had were on the Fourth of July for the barbecue. This old rancher would slaughter one of his herd and cook a whole side of beef in this big old smoker cooker in the park, and we’d all line up for a plate of meat and coleslaw, and there was a greased pig, and I caught it one year, and the local paper put the video of it on their website, and it went viral, and next thing I knew, I was in line for everything every day. In California.”
Wow. I’d never known how Ryker got his start— or expected a fifteen-year-old to wax nostalgic for the good old days before fame. Maybe I should give him a little more credit.
I took a puff of cotton candy and tasted it. “Not bad.”
“It’s blue raspberry.” Ryker reached over and took a puff of it himself. “No such thing in reality. Red, black, purple, pink, yeah. All those colors. But no blue. Why do you think it ever started? It would be like having artificial peach flavor and having it be green or whatever.”
We were walking toward a plaza where a lone man stood, wearing a business suit and talking on a cell phone. He belonged at Thrillsville about as much as I did in my skirt and silk blouse.
“Here’s my surprise, Jilly.” He pointed at the man. “My new agent.”
I walked closer, and as I approached, he hung up and turned to greet me. Holy whammo. His eyes met mine and the blue depths of them hit me like a wave at Huntington Beach when the wind was high. Could’ve knocked me down and sucked me away with the undertow.
“I’m Aero Jantzen. Good to be working with you, teaming up to protect Ryker.” He extended a hand to shake, and shake mine did— trembling. He had this casual, amazing European flair that extended from his great, short haircut to his narrow necktie to the tips of his two-tone wingtip shoes. “Ryker knew I was out of my depth in the legalese department for all his contracts, so he wants us to work together.”
“You’ll manage all his business, and I’ll read the contracts?” I couldn’t believe my mouth and brain were forming coherent words, considering the complete lack of connection after the incredible electrical surge caused the breakers of my system to overload. “Protect Ryker?”
“From himself,” Aero leaned in and said so the kid crunching the caramel apple couldn’t hear. “He’s looking at dumping some old deals and picking up some new ones. We need you to iron out all the wrinkles in getting him out of some of the—”
I held up a hand. “No need to explain. Gotcha.” Pent-up worry for Ryker’s future drained from me. This Aero Jantzen had it handled.
“Okay! Now— we’re all going on my favorite ride.”
Oh, dear. I hadn’t taken any of my emergency Dramamine. I mean, I knew this was a possibility, which was why I’d stuffed it in my purse. But I’d stupidly hoped Ryker wouldn’t insist on my joining in the mayhem of Screaming Scare Train. The last thing I wanted was to show all of Thrillsville that I’d eaten three Pop Tarts for breakfast.
Okay, truth will out. Who was I to criticize Ryker for his mid-morning snack choice?
“What’s your favorite ride?” Ryker asked as the three of us started across the park toward the screams and rattles of the roller coasters. “And don’t say The Barcelona Bomber. It’s out of service this week.”
I’d rather be publicly flogged than have to die of shame for throwing up on The Barcelona Bomber in front of our biggest client and the most gorgeous guy I’d seen in months. Years.
“Ferris wheel?” Aero shot me a look and shrugged a single shoulder. I shrugged back, a conspiracy forming between us.
“Sure. Ferris wheel.” It only gave my stomach gymnastics on its first downward sweep.
“Swept Away’s my favorite.” Ryker grinned and started jogging. I’d never heard of it, but a title like that, it figured. Teenage boys and their scary rides went together like Los Angeles and traffic.
I must have grimaced. Ryker caught it. “No— you’ll see.” And then he walked us straight to Swept Away.
Which wasn’t a roller coaster, unless you counted the acrobatics the sight of it did to my stomach.
To read more of Mergers & Acquisitions, preorder here.
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Wills & Trust (Legally in Love Collection Book 3) Page 30