by Ember Leigh
She laughed despite the way her cheeks had heated up. This was exactly what she didn’t want to think about and needed to continue to avoid thinking about if she hoped to live her days with any sort of rational mind. A flash of his hard body beneath hers—eyes wide and eager palming the roundness of her ass as she eased down on top of him—caused her to cross her legs and take a gulp of ice water. “Whatever. I’m over it.”
“Cheers.” Gary raised a piece of sushi toward her then popped it in his mouth. Once he swallowed, he smacked his lips and grinned at her. “Damn it if raw fish doesn’t cure everything.”
She popped a salmon roll into her mouth, hoping he was right. If it could only cure her of these lingering thoughts about Josh, life would be perfect.
****
Josh took a deep breath, knee bouncing wildly as he waited for his meeting to start. He swirled the straw in his glass for the hundredth time, eyes darting out the window of the restaurant, searching for the familiar face. He checked his watch, rearranged the items on the table, adjusted his sunglasses on top of his head, then crossed and re-crossed his arms.
He hadn’t been such a newbie in over a decade. While the liberation since his departure from IBC was a gift he never dreamed possible, it came with a vulnerability he hadn’t experienced since the first moments as a new graduate.
Acclimating to the pace of life in New York had been difficult. The startling noises, the inevitability of winter, and the sheer density of people on the streets still surprised him each day—he missed the sun and ocean air of his place out west, but it was on the market to be sold, along with the majority of his possessions.
Josh had not only taken a step into the unknown, he was executing a free-fall. When he stopped to think about how many things in his life had changed in such a short amount of time, it made his head spin. The drastic one-eighty felt surprisingly right.
He had a new, smaller place in New York, fashionable and expensive without breaking the bank. Funds were lower than they had been in years, and while this provoked a new fear deep inside him, he was willing to plunge forward into the unknown. The only way up was to risk it all. While the court case with IBC was steadily bleeding him dry, every day he woke up and thanked God that he was out.
Adjusting to fewer things and a different quality of life was new territory for him, but he still lived mighty fine. He was practicing a new skill called thankfulness, and it certainly took practice.
The front door to the restaurant swung open and judging by the short, round profile, it was exactly who he was waiting for. Gary approached, cheeks flushed as he smiled at him.
“Gary, it feels like it’s been a year since we’ve last seen each other.”
They shook hands and sat down. “Yeah, strange how living up each other’s butts on a remote island means you really notice when you don’t see somebody for a while. How ya been?”
“Better than ever.” The words rang true inside of him.
“You look different,” Gary said. “Did you cut your hair, drop a few pounds…?”
“Nah, I think it’s the lifestyle change. Brings out a different quality in me.”
Gary nodded, appraising him. “Anything to do with leaving IBC? What are you doing out here now? Aren’t you an LA boy?”
“I am. I mean, I was. I moved out to New York last week. Got myself a place in the West Village and trying to start over. Completely.”
Gary’s eyes rounded so much they looked like they might pop out of his face. “That’s huge, buddy. I never thought I’d hear these words coming from you.” He paused as a waitress set down a glass of ice water. He sipped it, gazing into the distance. “I thought you were in bed with IBC for life, to be honest.”
“I did too, once.” He shrugged, fiddling with the napkin in front of him. “But hey, things change. Life changes. I had a wakeup call once Bridgette kicked you guys off the island.”
Gary scoffed. “Bridgette. Is she able to live without you?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to her in a while. It’s not legally advisable right now, to say the least.” He cracked a grin and leaned back into his chair.
“Sounds like life has certainly taken an unexpected turn for you. I can’t say I’m not happy to hear it. IBC is shady business, and well, maybe this is slightly paternal of me to say, but I had hoped you wouldn’t support that type of thing. You seem like a fine man to me.”
“That was quite paternal, Gary.”
“You young stars are my children, what can I say? Especially Paige. She’s the daughter I never had.”
Josh inhaled sharply at the mention of her name. His heart rate picked up, and he was dying to ask about her, get any details or updates he could. Gary had to know he was interested, but Josh wanted to play it cool—for as long as he could, anyway.
He opened his mouth to make a casual comment, decided against it, and shut his mouth. His cheeks heated up, and he resumed fiddling with the napkin, unsure what to say next.
Gary lifted a brow.
“How is…uh…how is she? Paige, I mean. How is she doing?” He avoided eye contact with Gary.
“Really well.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice. “She loves the new gig. Mostly because she has time to plan other projects and get creative.”
“It seems as if she likes the show,” Josh said. “I listen every day. Probably the only way I’ll ever hear her voice again, you know what I mean?”
A silence fell between them. Each quiet second reinforced how accidentally heavy that statement was. He sounded like a heartsick sap—probably because he was one.
“So what did you want to discuss today? Or did you just want to see my pretty face again?”
Josh took a deep breath and pushed aside the napkin he’d torn to pieces. “I want to work with you.”
Surprise crept across Gary’s face. “In what capacity?”
“As you can probably surmise, I am completely reworking my role within the entertainment business. I’ve left IBC, and I have no plans to return to the corporate world. If anything, the Wakin’ Up fiasco showed me that I actually want to get back to the creative part. Creating new projects, hunting talent, and pursuing independent avenues. Sort of like the grassroots stuff of the business.”
Gary nodded, seeming intrigued enough.
He pressed on. “My story is marketable, at the very least. High-powered exec falls from the skyscraper and finds his footing among the pastures of grassroots entertainment. Why I left the good life. Why a man making millions sells everything he owns. Stuff like that.”
Gary narrowed his eyes. “You sold everything you own?”
“I did. Almost everything, at least. I still have a couple pairs of pants.” He grinned.
“Wow. You’re right, the story is marketable. Are you trying to sell it?”
“No. That’s not where I want to take it. It’s a personal journey. I’m not doing it so I can sell it. But, this is where you come in. I want you to get me on Paige’s show.”
Gary’s eyes widened and he laughed. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe. I know it’s a crazy request.”
“It’s more than crazy. It’ll get me fired. That I can promise you.”
“She would never fire you. Besides, this is a boon for the both of us. Parts of my story fit in perfectly with what she talks about and her target niche. It’s a natural fit. Besides, it’s some good publicity for her to interview me while all this IBC stuff is going down.”
“Can you even talk about IBC while the case is open?”
“Not about all aspects, but IBC is less important than the fact that I left a high-powered career to execute a major life shift and get back to the roots of what I love doing.”
Gary inhaled deeply, arms crossed over his chest. He was thinking about it. “I see what you’re saying. I think you make a really good point and to be honest, it would be a huge boost for her show.” Gary tapped his glass. “I don’t know though. She really, really doesn’t ever w
ant to see you again.”
Josh’s heart twisted. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty damn sure.”
“You know she talks a lot of game,” he said. “There’s gotta be some part of her that still…”
“Still what?”
Josh looked down, cheeks heating up again. “I don’t know. Paige is…something else. Meeting her was a game-changer for me.”
“You wanna see her, don’t you?”
“Every damn day,” he said. “I don’t know how many voicemails I left her—”
“You mean left me.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t suppose I could get her new number?”
“That, buddy, would really get me fired.”
Josh sighed. “Anyway, it’d be nice to see her again. Even in just a professional setting. I’d like to generate some buzz about my new approach in the industry, so I think her show is the perfect chance for me to do that and for her to expand the audience as well. It’s a match made in radio heaven, and you know it.”
“I do know it. I need to figure out how to orchestrate this without losing my job and my nuts once she finds out.”
Josh grinned. He might find himself near Paige Alexander one more time. Even if it meant inducing one of her famous fits, with him the object of her rage, it was worth it to see her again.
Chapter Thirteen
Anxiety made sick steps across his chest in the waiting room of the radio station. An assistant had ushered him in, telling him to wait for Ms. Alexander for the pre-interview roundup. He might not even make it onto the air with her. Who knew what sort of outrage and obscenities might erupt once she walked through that door?
Gary revealed that he’d gotten his slot through a delicate last-minute cancellation, which meant Paige had no idea who was filling the spot previously reserved for a young entrepreneur from Brooklyn who distributed fair-trade artisan crafts. When she walked through that door, all hell might break loose.
Josh paced as he waited. He wasn’t sure he had been more nervous about anything in his life. Footsteps approached, followed by a recognizable feminine voice, one that made his stomach flip and shrink at the same time. The doorknob turned.
It was like being at the doctor’s office, waiting for the results from a really important X-ray about the stabbing pain in his heart for the past month. He rubbed his face. Had this really been a good idea after all? She was going to explode, chew him out, shit all over him and then repeat it all again for good measure. The woman was terrifying.
The door swung open. He cringed, too afraid to move.
“Well, holy fuck.”
The words were like knife points. He turned on his heels, face-to-face with Paige Alexander. She was gorgeous as usual, blonde hair parted at the side and considerably shorter since the last time he’d seen her. Her skin glowed, more bronzed since she’d left the island, and she wore a well-tailored pencil skirt with a loose white blouse. Her face, however, reflected a very stern displeasure.
“Hi.” He barely forced out the word. He scratched at his chest, ran his hand through his hair, and then buried both hands in his pockets. Looking at her again, even with that scowl of her face, was a relief. “Hi, Paige.”
Her nostrils flared. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“For the show. I’m here for the show.” He cleared his throat, reminding himself of the bullet points he had ready once she started to resist the idea.
“Like hell you are. Don’t be a dick. Where’s the actual person I’m supposed to interview?”
“It’s me, I swear. It was a last-minute thing…”
She referenced some papers in her hand then looked back up at him, eyes fiery. He had no idea what was going through her head or what she might say next.
“How dare you show up here.”
“Paige, we’re in the same industry. This makes sense. I promise you, a segment with me will do both of us a huge favor.”
“Impossible. Anything with you would just drag me down.”
He winced. “I know why you say that. But I beg you to consider this from a professional perspective. Apart from the personal history. You’ll see this is a smart business decision. I have something to offer your audience—and you can ride the coat tails of my IBC fracas.”
Something flashed in her eyes. It seemed she hadn’t blinked since she’d entered the room. He ached to get closer to her, put a hand on her shoulder, anything to make a physical connection, but that might provide as favorable a result as touching an alligator.
“Why are you even here? I thought you lived in LA.”
“I moved here recently.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh really? Great. Well, I hope we won’t be running into each other.”
He studied the floor. Choosing his words with care was of the utmost importance. He’d been mentally preparing for this moment for weeks, and he couldn’t blow it now. When he looked up at her, he caught a pained expression on her face. She stiffened.
“We won’t if that’s how you want it,” he said. “But I need you to know I am so sorry for everything that happened.”
Her face went neutral, and she waved his words away. “Listen, let’s talk about this segment using as few words as possible and be on our way. You should know I’m doing this because you’re right, I do plan on using the IBC scandal to my advantage. Please be very aware I am only interested in this for selfish purposes, and one could even say I’m using you for professional gain.”
The words were like magic to his ears. He laughed with joy. “That’s fine. Whatever. I’m just—”
“Sit down.”
He obeyed, and she sat in the chair next to him. She crossed her legs and reviewed some papers in her hand.
He leaned closer to her. “I’m happy for you, Paige. It seems like you’re really doing well for yourself.”
She glanced at him and after a moment said, “Thanks. I am.”
He inhaled deeply, loving that her scent hung in the air around them. His mind flashed to their marathon lovemaking night on the island, how he’d pressed his pillow to his face for nearly five minutes, desperate to fuse the scent into his nostrils.
“We’ll talk briefly about your personal history, where you come from in the industry so to speak, to give the listeners a sense of your past.” She paused, referencing the paper in her hand but not seeming to really see it. “I have to admit you have an impressive history. I was really intrigued before I…”
“Before you realized who it was?” He flashed a grin.
“Right.”
She shifted in her seat and looked at the papers for an abnormally long time. He got the sense she was focused on something entirely different than the words in front of her.
“I also want to let you know that this stunt you’ve pulled today ranks among the most offensive and outlandish things that have occurred in my life.” She paused. “Once we conclude our interview today, I hope you will respect my wish to never see you again.”
Panic swirled in his chest—if anything, laying eyes on her again only reinforced his need to be near her as much as humanly possible. Did she really feel nothing? Was he just the heartsick sap he feared becoming, pining desperately for the one woman who had captured his mind and his heart but who felt nothing in return for him?
“I hear you. Believe me, it really hurts to hear those words.” A physical pain pulsed in his chest, both surprising and unnerving him. “I would love to sit you down and tell you everything. If there is one thing I hope to accomplish in this chapter of my life, it is to make you understand.” He reached out for her hand, which she snapped into her lap. “It might be a fool’s hope—”
“It is.”
“But I feel profoundly bad about a lot of things that happened on the island, and it would give me an enormous sense of relief if you knew the whole story. Confidentiality clause and all.”
“Good to know,” she said, “but unfortunately, I’m not interested.” She plastered a fake look
of sympathy on her face. “Now, shall we continue with the show?”
****
Paige wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep up the façade. She patted herself on the back for how she’d handled his unthinkably rude appearance in her office space—professional yet scathing—but with the show set to go live in a matter of minutes, his mere presence across the table in the studio was enough to provoke an emotional collapse.
Breathe in, breathe out, and let it go.
But it was impossible. He continued to both titillate and enrage her, the frustrating combination he was known best for. Not seeing him for a couple weeks had helped her bury the emotions and otherwise pretend she was fine. But now? She wanted to scream at him until she lost her voice, and to kiss him until she had no breath left in her lungs. You are such an infuriating contradiction, Josh Lambert.
She fiddled with a pen as they waited for the time slot.
Josh cleared his throat. “So, how’s the nightlife here?”
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t go out.”
He nodded, checking out the sound studio. “Just curious. Now that I live in New York, I want the full experience.”
“Bridgette might be willing to go with you downtown some night.” Paige shrugged, regretting the words the moment they left her mouth. But her pain was roaring, and she couldn’t stop the snark from flying out of her mouth. “Perfect arm candy for some expensive clubs or restaurants or something, you know?”
He rolled his eyes. “That is absurd, and you know it. Why don’t you tell me what’s really on your mind? Or better yet, let me explain all those things you actually want to know but are too stubborn to ask about.”
She clamped her mouth shut, surprised by the astute observation. He’s right and you know it. “I see no point in that because I already know all I need to know.”
“Creating your own reality so it serves what you’d like to believe doesn’t count as knowing anything.”
His green eyes commanded her attention. Goosebumps erupted all over her body and she couldn’t look away. The jerk had a point.