“Matt. Wait up.”
Matt stopped walking toward Groveman’s and turned to find Collin hurrying across the parking lot in his direction. The fact that Collin was grinning from ear to ear didn’t exactly improve Matt’s already bad mood.
“Isn’t this fabulous?” Collin asked when he fell into step beside Matt. “I would have been thrilled if even a handful of women showed up this morning. Who knew we’d have a Joe Video mobamania on our hands?”
“Yeah, who knew,” Matt grumbled.
“Well excuse me,” Collin huffed. “Suffering from IMS this morning, are we? Or are you just pissed because the gorgeous himbo is still grabbing all the zazz?”
Matt groaned. “Would you lay off the gaybonics and speak English if you’re going to ask me a question?”
“Take notes,” Collin chirped, never missing a beat. “IMS—irritable male syndrome. Himbo—the male version of a bimbo. Grabbing all the zazz—getting all of the attention.”
“I’ll be sure and run straight home and jot those down in my sacred gay phrase book,” Matt told him.
Collin reached out and swatted him on the shoulder. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Matt. You’ve been acting like an old tomcat with his nuts in a knot for weeks now. What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Matt sent a guilty look at his best friend. “You know I’ve been concerned about his whole woman-focused game from the beginning, Collin. My reputation is at stake here, dammit.”
The eye roll told Matt Collin wasn’t buying it.
“Don’t make me call you a liar, Matt. You know as well as I do Joe Video is going to be a bigger hit with women than S&M&M.”
“Than what?”
Collin grinned. “S&M&M—kinky sex with chocolate.”
Matt said, “Spare me any more gay humor this early in the morning. Please?”
Collin said, “It’s a deal. If you’ll tell me what’s really bugging you.” When Matt refused to answer, Collin said, “Are you getting nervous about the big promotion? Because if you are, that’s ridiculous. You always aim out of the ballpark, Matt. You’ll be the best executive vice president in Paragon history.”
“You nailed it. I’m worried about the promotion.” Matt didn’t even feel guilty about the lie. Collin loved being right. All of the time. Besides, there wasn’t anything wrong with him. Nothing that reincarnation couldn’t cure. The only way he’d ever understand Annie is if he came back as one of her frickin’ brain cells.
“Talk about sucking the sunshine right out of a good mood,” Collin snipped as they rounded the corner of the building. “I forgot she was going to be here.”
Claire Winslow waved the second she saw them.
“I still can’t believe you’re attracted to that woman,” Collin grumbled. “Claire Winslow’s only flair is in her plastic surgerized nostrils. And then only when she picks up the scent of her next victim’s fresh spurting blood.”
Matt laughed. “What are you suffering from this morning, Mr. Adair? BHS?”
Collin sent him a sideways glance. “And that would be?”
“Bitchy homo syndrome?”
“That is so embarrassingly lame, Matt.”
Matt grinned. “Only because you didn’t come up with it first.”
When they reached Claire, she leaned forward and gave Matt a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she openly appraised Collin from head to toe. “I think Paragon’s been holding out on me,” she said, sending Collin a brilliant smile. “Introduce me to your exceptionally handsome friend, Matt.”
“His exceptionally handsome gay friend,” Collin spoke up before Matt could make the introduction. “Collin Adair.” He offered Claire the type of handshake you would extend to a leper. “Remember? We spoke on the telephone? Before I knew better than to tell you anything I didn’t want repeated on live TV?”
Claire’s smile disappeared and her right eyebrow arched slightly. “Oh grow up. Do I look like a freaking people person to you?”
Collin looked her up and down, his smile lethal. “Sorry. I can’t get past that hideous so-yesterday suit you’re wearing.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“But you’re absolutely right,” Collin said. “After the thirty minutes you spent me-deep in conversation on the phone, I should have realized you were way too self-centered to be a freaking people person.”
Holy hell.
The claws were out and the hair pulling was going to start if Matt didn’t do something fast. He glanced nervously at the front row of women waiting in line, already moving closer at the sound of raised voices. Wouldn’t that be something? TV cameras rolling. J.B. watching, smiling over the huge crowd of screaming women. Only to realize the women weren’t cheering for Joe Video, but for a catfight taking place between Paragon’s queen and a talk-show host princess.
Shit.
Matt quickly stepped between them. He took Claire by the elbow and led her away from Collin and through Groveman’s double glass doors. A smart thing to do, he realized, since he could feel Claire literally shaking with anger as he held on to her arm.
“How dare he talk to me like that,” she said, and Matt tightened his grip on her arm when Collin entered the store right behind them.
Collin swished past without so much as a glance, his nose held indignantly in the air like some prima donna dropped off by mistake at a championship mud wrestling competition.
“Who is that little prick, anyway?” Claire fumed. She glared after Collin a second longer, then turned her pinched face toward Matt.
“Collin’s my assistant,” Matt said.
“Then fire the rude bastard.” Claire stared Matt down. “I’m serious, Matt. If you won’t fire him, I’ll go straight to the top and see that he’s fired myself.”
Matt shook his head in disagreement. “Not a smart thing to do, Claire. Ever hear of Adair Carpet Mills? Collin’s the sole heir. His position at Paragon is merely his hobby. I wouldn’t cross a man with seventy-five million at his disposal, if I were you. Especially not a gay man who has no interest whatsoever in your feminine charms. Ignore him. Collin’s just bitchy enough to buy the television station and have you fired.”
That got her attention.
While Claire was still mulling over Collin’s financial power to take away her microphone, Matt said, “Look. I know you have a rep for the slice-and-dice job you do on the guests who appear on City Singles. Your viewing audience probably even finds it amusing that you make your guests squirm. But my CEO isn’t amused, Claire. In fact, unless you want Paragon to start courting your competition, this interview today needs to be one hundred percent client-friendly.”
Up came the eyebrow again.
Matt could tell Claire suspected he was lying, but after her run-in with a man she couldn’t screw her way around, he was counting on the fact that she wouldn’t take that chance. He knew his hunch was correct when she stepped much too close for comfort, a fake smile spreading across her cherry red lips.
“Oh, I can be extremely client-friendly, Matt,” she said, running a polished finger down the full length of his tie. “The question is, how friendly is the client—namely you—willing to be if I cut you some slack during this interview today?”
Matt smiled. But his little victory turned sour when he glanced over the top of Claire’s bleached-blonde head and saw Annie walking in their direction.
God, she was breathtaking.
Her short white linen skirt showcased her amazing long legs. Her sky blue top was the same color as her eyes. If he’d realized all it took to get Annie in short skirts every day was the promise of a promotion, he’d have insisted that J.B. promote her ages ago.
But damn.
Annie stopped walking when she saw them. She took one look at the compromising position Claire had him in at the moment. Then she turned on her heel and marched off in the opposite direction.
Damn. Damn. Triple flipping damn.
He wasn’t exactly sure why he felt guilty, but he did. He certainly had no
reason to feel guilty. What had Annie called him? Her bing buddy? Bing buddies had no reason to feel guilty about talking to other women. Did they?
He’d worry about it later.
He forced himself to look back down at Claire, who was still standing so close the scent of her overused hairspray had his nose twitching. “Let’s see how the interview goes first,” he told her. “Then I’ll let you know how friendly I can be.”
“Oh, I have no intention of disappointing you today, Matt,” Claire assured him. “Just remember. When we finally do make it between the sheets, you damn well better extend me the same courtesy. Or you won’t live to regret it.”
What am I? Matt thought. Flypaper for demanding women?
Annie suddenly wanted nothing but no-strings sex. Now Claire was threatening to do what, pay some thug to kill him if he disappointed her in bed? Damn. Were women turning into nothing but bottomless pits of sexual demands? Or was his problem having a PBS mind in today’s MTV world?
Exactly when did women get so damn pushy?
Better yet, when did he start caring that they were?
Finally, Claire backed out of his space.
Home free, Matt thought, until she slid her purse strap off her shoulder and pulled out a daily planner.
“So?” she said, taking a pen from the center crease in the planner. “What’s good for you? Let’s nail down a night for our date between the sheets.”
How about never, Claire?
Is never good for you?
But Matt said instead, “Why don’t I call you after I have this video game nailed down?”
She ignored him, pen still poised above her planner. “Why don’t I just go ahead and put you down for Friday night. Eight o’clock. My place. You bring the condoms. I’ll furnish the wine. And the dessert.” She ran her tongue suggestively around her lips after she mentioned the “dessert” part.
Matt cringed. “And if I have to cancel?”
Claire snapped the planner closed. “Do you want this interview to be client-friendly today, Matt?”
Matt said, “I thought I’d already made myself clear about that, Claire.”
“Just as I’m making myself clear now. You get what you want today. I get what I want Friday night. Canceling isn’t an option. Got it?”
Oh, he got it, all right.
He was the Titanic.
Claire was the iceberg.
Sunk. Sealed. Delivered. I’m yours.
CHAPTER 13
He was sitting astride an exercise machine, his back to the camera, wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy red briefs. His bronze skin glistened under the bright sunlight flooding across the outdoor patio. With each movement, rock-hard muscles rippled across his broad shoulders, pulsating to the steady rhythm of the exercise bars he was pumping up and down.
He paused for a moment and looked back over his left shoulder, his ink black hair tumbling across one eye just enough to make any woman want to reach out and push it away from his too-handsome face. Then he smiled a megawatt smile powerful enough to make any woman’s breath catch in her throat.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he said, his thick Cuban accent sexy as hell. “It is good to have you home.”
“Cut,” Gretchen yelled. “That was perfect, Rico.”
Annie nodded in agreement. “Absolutely perfect, Rico. You’re doing a fantastic job.”
“For the second frame,” Gretchen told Rico, “I want you to do exactly what we rehearsed. Turn slowly around on the bench so we can get a full frontal view, and then bend down to pick up the towel. Then I want you to take your time toweling yourself off, Rico. Try to imagine what the camera is seeing. We want to give the player of this game her money’s worth. When you’re through, you look right here at Annie.” Gretchen grabbed Annie’s arm and pulled her closer to stand beside the camera. “That’s when you say your next line. Then the camera will follow you walking to the patio doors before you go inside. Any questions?”
Rico shook his head—a bit sullenly, Annie noticed.
But when the camera started rolling again, Rico followed Gretchen’s instructions to the letter. The full frontal view Gretchen had requested left nothing to the imagination. Everything Rico had to offer was clearly defined beneath the stretchy fabric of his tight-fitting red briefs.
And Rico had plenty to offer.
He bent down, picked up the towel, and as he began toweling himself off Annie tried to imagine what the camera was seeing. Her gaze slid over well-defined six-pack abs. As she watched Rico toweling himself off in such a sensuous and inviting manner, she actually felt a mini heat wave creeping up her neck. Yum. Whether she had any interest in Rico personally or not, she wasn’t blind.
Rico was one hot hunk.
Hot. Hot. Hot.
He casually tossed the towel aside, looked directly at Annie, and flashed another heart-stopping smile. “Come with me. Inside,” he said. “I will pour the wine while you tell me about your day.”
Annie moved aside, giving the camera room to pan across Groveman’s outdoor patio area as Rico, in all his muscled splendor, walked toward the patio doors that would take them inside for the next frame of the game. Frame three would be shot in one of Groveman’s designer kitchen showrooms, where Rico would take a chilled bottle of wine from an ice bucket, pour both himself and his game player a drink, push the player’s glass toward the camera, and seat himself at a designer bar.
The next few frames would capture Rico’s thoughtful expressions as they filmed him listening and responding appropriately to Joe Video Option Number One entitled “After Work Chat.” Under “After Work Chat” the player had two options: Good Day or Bad Day. Once the player chose the option, she had complete control over when she wanted a response from Joe Video. All she had to do was push the “enter” key on her keyboard or the “A” button on her video game player. The script Annie and Collin had devised for either scenario was generic enough to fit any situation.
For a bad day, Joe Video had several responses, such as, “Poor baby, you didn’t deserve that.” For a good day, a response would be, “You are amazing. Did you know that?”
In fact, Annie was proud of the entire script she and Collin had worked on so diligently. She was also secretly pleased that for once Collin had been the one who kept Matt in check. Other than an occasional eye roll or a disgusted grunt, Matt had contributed very little to the script.
When it came to binging, Matt ruled.
But as Collin had said himself during one of their brainstorming sessions, “Matt. Listen to me carefully. ‘Get me a beer, babe’ and ‘Could you toss me the remote’ are not terms of endearment.”
In addition to “After Work Chat” there was also a “Sounding Board” option, where the player could vent about the top five subjects on most women’s vent list: her mother, father, significant other, friends, and boss. Joe Video’s responses were always both encouraging and sympathetic.
The “Striptease Aerobics” option was what Collin called “a thirty-minute workout with eye candy”—namely Rico, clad in the skimpy briefs he was wearing now, leading the player through the striptease moves Annie and Collin had learned from the male stripper. And (upon Collin’s insistence) with a lot of encouragement from Joe Video for the player to release her inhibitions and take it all off for his eyes only.
As a final advertising gimmick, marketing had insisted they save the steamiest segment, the “Pleasure Me” option, for Friday’s last day of filming. In hope of drawing a large crowd throughout the entire week, marketing was running a “behind the scenes with Joe Video” contest.
On Friday morning, ten lucky Joe Video fans would be selected via a random drawing to watch behind the scenes while the camera filmed the last segment of Joe Video. Groveman’s had gone all-out and set up a special lavish Roman-theme bedroom for the shoot. If bitch-of-the-century Claire did her job and played up the contest on City Singles, every woman in Atlanta would be dying to come watch Joe Video sprawled across a king-size Roman-colum
n canopy bed, scantily covered by a satin sheet, and delivering sexy-voiced instructions on how to discover each and every one of a woman’s erogenous zones.
Claire.
For once, thinking about Claire didn’t bother Annie at all. In fact, the new Annie hadn’t batted so much as an eye when she’d caught Claire and Matt in a clutch earlier that morning. Truthfully, all Annie had felt was relief.
She’d been a little worried over Matt’s protective attitude when she’d left his apartment in the wee hours of Saturday morning. But seeing him with Claire had put those concerns to rest. Matt hadn’t let her down. He was still good ’ol one hundred percent player Matt. Her absolute perfect choice for a no-strings-attached bing buddy.
“Hey,” Matt said and Annie jumped.
She’d been so busy congratulating herself on her new attitude, she hadn’t realized Mr. Bing himself had walked up behind her.
“Hey yourself,” she said, flashing him a friendly smile. “Are you as pleased as I am over how well everything is going today?”
“The day isn’t over yet,” he warned.
“No. But the worst is over,” Annie said. “I don’t know what you promised Claire this morning, Matt, and I don’t want to know. Just promise me you’ll continue keeping Claire happy. At least until we can finish filming.”
What?
Not exactly the words Matt had expected to hear from Annie on the subject of Claire Winslow.
“About Claire,” Matt said.
But Annie cut him off. “Yeah, I know. I was completely shocked. Claire? Playing the role of Miss Suzy Sunshine? I still can’t believe it.”
Just like I can’t believe your new Suzy Sunshine role, either, Matt wanted to say.
“What about Rico?” Annie asked, beaming even more. “You have to give him credit for the way he handled that crowd this morning. He had those women practically doing cartwheels across the parking lot. I hate to say I told you so, Matt, but if there’s ever been a true dream guy every woman can identify with, Rico is that guy.”
She started to follow after the others who were going inside for the next phase of filming, but Matt reached out and took her arm. He led Annie to the far side of the patio.
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