“Are you kidding me?” Gina said. “I hand you a plate of some of the most desired women in this industry and you can’t be bothered, but Marsha…?”
Though, to be fair, she could see the appeal. The other woman must have been a size two at the largest with a statuesque sort of frame like she’d once been a model. And, given the types of people who shopped in a store like this, it wasn’t so unusual to think she might have been.
“Take it easy. She’s not sexy like you, so no need to get jealous,” He laughed and stepped toward a circular rack housing clearance designer pants.
“Jealous? I knew you were difficult, but delusional—” Gina spluttered.
But his words hit closer to home than she liked, even though she was fairly sure he was just yanking her chain.
“…sexy like you.”
His words replayed in her head and her cheeks flamed, but, luckily, Rory seemed oblivious.
He pulled a pair of black slacks off the rack and held them at his waist, not caring that the bottom of the very expensive pants were brushing against the floor. “What about these?”
Grateful for the distraction, Gina grabbed the hanger and placed the pants back onto the rack. “Firstly, these are straight-legged and relaxed fit.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that these are tailored for older men.” She pushed hard against his chest to force him backward until he was lined up with the couch. “Men of sophistication and class who can’t be bothered to be fashionable. You’re a rock star, not a stockbroker. Leave this to the professionals.”
“And you’re a professional?” He arched a brow.
She took a seat on the couch opposite him and crossed her legs.“I know my way around a nice fit.”
He sunk deep into the couch, his gaze moving to her legs. “I’m sure you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh nothing…” His words trailed off, and she stared at him, internally hating herself as his meaning clicked inside her head. He was definitely yanking her chain now, and damned if it wasn’t working. Pure chemistry had nerve endings firing off inside her left and right as she tried to ignore her body’s response to him.
Before she had the chance to answer, though, Marsha approached with three pair of pants and a fitted white shirt. “Here you go, Mr. Galveston. Try these on and let me know what you think.”
“I’ll take these,” Gina said, intercepting the pile of clothes before Rory could get to them and ruin everything just like he’d done this morning.
“Call me Rory,” he said with a devastating smile as Marsha twisted the key into the lock of the dressing room.
“Right.” She held the door open as Rory and Gina stepped inside. “Let me know if you need anything else, Rory,” she murmured, practically giggling.
“I most certainly will.”
Gina used her foot to shut the door behind Marsha.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rory asked.
“You can’t be trusted to pick out your own clothes. So I’m staying,” she said with a tight smile.
“Any excuse to see me naked, is it?” he replied, and she rolled her eyes.
“Move it. I’m not arguing with you today.” She stepped past a befuddled Rory to place the clothing on a rack that hung on the opposite wall.
“What’s the matter?” she questioned, her hands on her hips. “Never been in a dressing room this big?”
“Why is it so big, anyway?”
She shrugged as she dropped down onto a cushioned wingback armchair in the corner. “Who knows?”
The large room was lined with mirrors at all points with an armchair on either end, another in the center. There was a TV on the wall opposite her, the station turned to a news entertainment channel, but she tuned it out.
She pointed toward the clothing now hanging on the rack. “Might as well get started. Shopping at this place can be an all-day experience and I’m tired already.” She spun her finger in a circle, gesturing for him to begin. The quicker they got this over with, the better.
“I’m a pro at getting in and out of clothes.”
She couldn’t help but sigh again as her eyes drifted to the whitewashed, wood-planked ceiling.
A belt buckle clattered against the floor and her eyes dropped to find Rory standing in tight, black boxers. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a pro at getting in and out of clothing. And though he wasn’t facing her, because of the mirrors she could still see his expression as he shook the first pair of slacks in front of him.
She swallowed a lump in her throat as she saw, for the first time ever, exactly how muscular and strong he was—his contoured abs with their well-defined grooves and the tattoos that stretched from his chest to his shoulders.
His dark eyes were brooding and stormy, a match perfect for his burnt tobacco-colored, tousled hair. He pulled the slacks up over his long legs, fastened them, and then turned to Gina with his arms stretched to either side, still shirtless.
“You look a hundred times better already,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she meant it. As much as she thought it was the right choice for him, for the band…a part of her already missed his low slung jeans and faded, beat-up denim.
“Really?” He arched a brow and modeled the designer black slacks for her. “I feel like an idiot.”
“Well, you look pretty good for an idiot.” She grinned.
“Wait…is that a compliment?” He hooked one finger into the pants and unbuttoned them with haste, pulling the zipper down just enough to expose his black underwear again.
She swallowed a groan. She could’ve sworn she saw the outline of his cock underneath the tight underwear. Wetting her lips nervously she averted her gaze, but in the well-lit room filled to the brim with mirrors there was no escaping him.
She gestured for him to pick up the pace and try on the next pair.
To force herself away from watching him dressing and undressing, she fixed her gaze on the TV opposite her. Just coming back from break, the anchors at Hollywood Tonight promised that the next story was one that was going to make everyone in America happy.
And then she saw him.
Musician Peter Ebon still held power over her, though she’d be loathe to admit it. Maybe not the kind of power he used to, but she couldn't deny the burn of acid roiling in her gut at the sight of him. And though seeing him on the television screen threatened to make her ill, she reached for the remote on the nearby end table and cranked up the volume.
“In today’s flash update, Peter Ebon of Ebon Steel has announced his engagement to actress Daphne Ferrel. His reps have exclusively shared that the wedding will be happening soon and is expected to be the social event of the year.”
Gina drew her thumb to her lips and chewed her nail. The burning in her stomach morphed into a dull ache. It had only been a year since Peter told her that he wasn’t the marrying type and a little under a year since she had caught him cheating with his now-fiancée.
Gina clicked the power button and threw the remote onto the nearest chair. In one of the many mirrors before her, she could see the anger on her face. Concerned that Rory might catch a glance of the discomfort, she forced the widest smile she could muster—
At the exact worst time.
Rory caught her gaze just as he bent over in front of her to slide on his jeans. He stopped in place, his body frozen as he cocked his head slightly. “What are you smiling at? Like what you see?”
“Oh my God,” she scoffed and directed her attention elsewhere. But again, those damn mirrors were everywhere so she forced her eyes closed and cursed herself under her breath. Because, despite her anger at the announcement of Peter’s engagement, she did like what she saw, and that was the last thing she needed right now. Peter’s news was the perfect reminder of why she needed to stay away from rock stars except when it came to work. That included Rory Galveston. “Can you just put some pants back on?”
“In the process.
”
She could hear him zipping his jeans and that’s when she figured it was safe to open her eyes again. Once she did and noticed he was now dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing when he walked into the store, she grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder.
“That’s it? You’re done?” she asked.
“Yup. Those pants fit. Let’s get them and a bunch like them. What’s the point of trying on a dozen more pairs when those are fine? And shirts are shirts. Come on, Gina. Have some mercy.”
She hesitated and then shrugged. That was fine with her. They’d get the black pair in gray, navy and tan and a bunch of dress shirts and call it a day. She was more than ready to leave. Seeing Peter was bad, but being in close quarters with Rory was doing things to her she didn’t even want to consider. Better to call this battle and live to fight another day.
“Fine. Let’s go, then.”
“Excellent.” His mouth split into a grin and then faded as he eyed her speculatively. “By the way, that thing on the news…That wedding?” Rory questioned softly. “That’s exactly the type of social event we’re looking for, right?”
She twisted to face him fully with a tight, half-smile. Of course, now he would be interested in playing the part assigned to him.
“I mean, I guess…”
“Well,” he chuckled, “better work on finding me a date, right?” He nudged her with his elbow on his way out the door before pausing to look back at the clothes on the rack. “Do we need to take those with us?”
“Yeah, we should probably do that.”
But she was far more preoccupied with this new challenge. Old “Operation See if She Could Wrangle an Invite to Her Ex’s Wedding for the Guy She Was Developing a Crush On”.
If Karma was a bitch, Gina had clearly slept with her boyfriend, because this was going to be a living hell.
Chapter 5
Twenty minutes later, Rory found himself in the back of the limo with Gina again.
With her head parked against the seat, she opted to stare out the window silently as Rory watched her intently, trying to identify what exactly her problem was.
But then, there was a quick way to solve that particular issue.
“What’s your problem?”
She rolled her eyes. Rory figured she was probably drawing blood from biting her tongue and holding back, so he crossed his arms and waited for her to blow.
“I don’t have a problem,” she finally spoke up, her face expressionless.
“Everyone has problems.” He jutted his elbow against her side, trying to goad her into the particular flustered state he had witnessed earlier. “And you look like you’re brimming with them right now.”
“My problem is you. And since you don’t want to pick a date,” Gina changed the subject and turned to him with a forced smile, “I’ll pick one for you.”
Rory snorted, but then added, “I’m not going out with any of those women in your folder.”
“Either you’re going to step out into the real world and find someone you’re interested in, or I’m serious, Rory. I’ll make the choice. It makes no difference to me. In fact, I’d prefer it.”
She retrieved the women from her purse and began to pass him dossiers one at a time, a stack of women he had no interest in, accumulating in a pile on his lap. He pursed his lips before grabbing the stack and tossing them back into Gina’s lap.
She let out a groan. “This is my job, Rory.” Her nostrils flared as she gathered the reports into a stack and shoved them back into the folder, and then her glare was laser focused on him again. “I’m damn good at it and I know we’ve never been best friends or anything like that, but you need to stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing and work with me here. You agreed with the guys to try. Now start trying.”
“Fine,” Rory relented with a sigh and combed his fingers through his hair. He forced the most sincere smile he could muster, because while he wasn’t happy about it, she had a point. She was only doing her job and her job involved taking the band to the next level. He hated feeling out of control of this mess, but he hated letting the boys down even more. “You pick, then.” It didn’t matter anyway. Now that he’d come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to Gina on multiple levels, no one else did it for him. It was a game at this point. A dog and pony show and he was just one of the players. Just because he went out on a couple dates didn’t mean he had to like the girls he went with.
“You’re so damn complicated.” She flipped open the folder again and parsed through the women, sorting them into two piles.
Rory cocked his head slightly to get a good look and let out a relieved sigh when she placed the porn star into what he presumed was the no pile. “That is the no pile, correct?”
“Yes. The porn star was never a viable candidate.”
“Then why is she in there?” He passed her a glare and pointed squarely at the folder. “If she was never an option—”
“Because,” she said, cracking a mischievous grin, “it was a test.”
“Did I pass?” He cocked his head, eager to know his fate.
“On the very basic level, yes, you passed.” She shrugged. “That being said, it’s hard to know since you said no to everyone else as well. I’m leaning toward like a D minus grade.”
“Damn. Like high school Algebra all over again,” he sighed, pushed himself back against the seat and took a quick glance out the window as they passed Ruffian Records.
The Algebra thing was a joke, but not really. He’d never been a great student. Although he’d liked to read, his thoughts were always full of music and melodies, making it hard to focus on anything else. His father had convinced him he was stupid and would never amount to anything, but he had always dreamed he’d end up somewhere. Maybe at a factory during the day and able to gig on nights and weekends. But he never could have imagined it would’ve been here. Cutting albums, climbing the charts and selling out venues. With his best friends, to boot.
He turned back to Gina with newfound vigor. He was going to do whatever it took to keep Sub-Zero’s dreams alive. “So, what’s the scoop? Who’s the new love of my life?”
She passed him a sly smile that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
“I know I said I didn’t want to pick,” he said, backpedalling, “But—”
“It’s too late for ‘buts’, Rory,” she interrupted as she picked up a folder and pushed the rest of the files into her purse.
Rory groaned as he reached for the dossier. “Please don’t be the vegan.”
“It’s not the vegan.”
“Thank God.” He glanced down at the file, immediately recognizing her as the senator’s daughter.
“Curious?”
His eyes met hers. “Why her?”
“She’s powerful, or rather she’s tied to power. She’s not in your industry, but the word on the street is that she’s dying to get away from her father’s legacy and start one of her own. But mostly because I have a feeling in my gut that she’d garner a lot of interest. She’s the unexpected choice, I think.” She wiggled her eyebrows, teasing him.
He sighed and read through the file for the first time. Back at the café, he hardly put enough effort into just skimming the women’s bios. He was far more interested in making Gina squirm, and boy did he ever. A smile hitched across his lips at the thought of watching her contort, at the memory of the way her hips moved in that white dress.
“See something you like?” Gina questioned, snapping him back to reality.
“Not particularly.” He dropped the thin paper onto his lap. “But she’ll do the trick, I suppose.”
“When you meet her, I’m going to need you to be a little more enthusiastic.”
“I’m a musician. Not an actor.”
“Well, that’s who you used to be. You’re an actor now, too.”
He passed her a curious look. “Remind me…Why can’t Mac do this again? He’s like heartthrob material and I’m just…
Not.”
“Mac is a defined entity. He has the looks and the charm, so there’s not a lot of mystery there.” She clicked her tongue against her cheek. “Ava wants mystery and she’s right. I might be damn good at my job, but she’s one of the absolute best, so for the sake of the band, we need to trust her instincts.”
Rory sunk deeper in his seat. The more they talked about this, the more real it became. A fucking senator’s daughter? Yeah, that’d end well.
Gina dropped a palm onto Rory’s thigh. His toes curled in his sneakers at the light touch, and he swallowed harshly. Her touch sent a bolt of heat straight to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever care to admit.
Fuck.
“You’re not going to spend the rest of your life with Carlene Richardson,” she said softly. “Hell, you might not even make it past the first date. And that’s fine.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“That’s not the point of this.” She withdrew her hand. “It’s actually the furthest thing from what the label wants. By my estimation, they don’t want you to fall in love and if you do, it’d probably be best to keep it to yourself.”
“Yeah, I’m not much of a falling in love kind of guy.” He cocked his head to the side, all the while cursing himself for that tiny, fragile bit of truth.
“That much is obvious.”
“Why don’t you like me, Gina?” His eyes were still glued to hers, trying to get a good read on his new frenemy sitting so close to him.
“I don’t dislike you.” She shook her head, still staring out the window at the busy street traffic. “You’re just… difficult.”
“True,” he said, nodding. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a pain in the ass sometimes, but that was one thing he admired about Gina. She told it like it was. The way he did. “And ditto.”
She inclined her head ruefully. “Touché. So now that we've gotten that straightened out, with regard to Carlene. Go on a few dates with her, be seen in public with her.” She braced one hand on the door handle as the car came to a stop outside The Silver Inn. “Have fun. Do what you do, but when there are cameras make sure to exaggerate whatever it is that you’re doing. It’s up to you whether you tell her this is all for publicity or not, but don’t lead her on if you don’t like her. That’s just mean.”
Hard Sell: A Bad-Boy, Rock Star Romance Page 4