Work For It

by Ashley Bostock

Dylan was just being nice.

  “You stole my word,” she said.

  He gave her that too handsome smirk of his. “It’s growing on me.”

  “It was nice of you to stick up for me. She isn’t all that wrong though.” Lina could recognize that.

  Confusion lit Dylan’s face up. “Sorry I led her to believe that I was your guy. But she didn’t need to say those things. You are smart. And you sure as hell can look after yourself. You came here from Arizona all by yourself without any plan whatsoever. All you knew is that you needed a change, and you came to Colorado in the middle of winter. That, sweetheart, says something about your character.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lina was eyeing him like he was growing another head. But for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what he said that was so bad. Her shoulders relaxed a little, and her plump little mouth that he’d like to get his hands on—hell, all his parts on—was turning into a shy little smile.

  “Sorry. I have this problem that doesn’t let me trust at face value. I’m always looking at someone’s angle, you know? Like, they couldn’t possibly be being nice for the sake of being nice.”

  Dylan shook his head, not quite grasping what she was trying to tell him. “You mean that you think people have hidden agendas when they give you a compliment or in this case, just tell the truth?”

  Lina threw her hands up. “I can’t help it. I’ve been warped by my career. My first instinct is to assume that people are hiding something. What goes on behind closed doors or what they’re doing in their lives. Everyone does it. They hide behind something because they don’t want the real world to see them for who they are. Or in my professional cases, for what is going on in their lives. So the crap that comes out of their mouth is not always the truth. Not always genuine.”

  Guilt washed over Dylan. Letting Lina believe he was someone else—a blatant lie when he said his last name was Truman—was exactly what she was talking about. Hell, not telling her exactly who he was was a major no-no. Right now he wasn’t being any better than the people she was talking about. And to think five seconds ago he was going to kiss her. Shit. Was he really that awful?

  What would she say if he came clean now and told her who he was? By her own admission, she didn’t work out, so in theory she shouldn’t be starstruck like most of the men and women that met him were. Right? But somehow, as much as he wanted that, he knew it would be wrong. Past incidents of people finding out he was a celebrity—not even an actor—sent them straight into fervor. In his experience, meeting anyone famous whether they cared about the person or not, always sent the public into overload.

  Selfishly, he didn’t want that from Lina. He liked who she was and the way she was acting. Sassy. Sexy. Smart. His gut told him that if she found out who he really was, she would no longer act like herself. She would change just like everyone else did. She wouldn’t be so hearty and genuine. She wouldn’t throw Lucky Charms in his face, tempting him to eat the sugary goods. She’d feel bad for pressuring him. She’d examine every item he cooked for dinner, wondering if it was healthy or was going to be good enough for him. Nah. He didn’t trust her enough.

  She’d watch him work out with a different perspective.

  He just wanted normal.

  So long as Martha’s prying eyes didn’t recognize who he was.

  “I understand exactly what you mean about people not being genuine,” he said a little hoarsely. “I run into that quite a bit at the gym.”

  “In what way?” Lina said.

  He shrugged, trying to put his guilt on the back burner. No, he wasn’t going to come clean. Not yet. He would though. Maybe once they got to know each other a little better. “Once people realize you’re the owner of the gym, let’s just say their entire attitude changes. They start to think about what kind of favors you can do for them instead of looking at you as a workout buddy.”

  “I believe that. Well, you do seem pretty decent, even if you are encroaching on my turf. So thank you for sticking up for me to Martha. I think she meant well.”

  Dylan wasn’t sure about Martha at all. If she ended up seeing a Dirty Gains commercial, would she be like any other prying fan and want an autograph? Fuck. He’d just have to lay low and hope she hadn’t recognized him. Maybe he could go next door and face the situation head on and take care of the potential issue before it got him into trouble with Lina.

  “You up for another game, Lina?”

  She gave him a wide smile, placed her hand on her hip. “Sure. What do you want to get beat at this time? Connect Four? Sorry?”

  He let out a little chuckle, enjoying Lina’s wide smile and the sprinkling of freckles along her nose. He’d love to play strip poker with her. Discover more of those cinnamon freckles. “How about poker?”

  “Poker? Regular poker is fine. Not the stripping kind.” She tossed her head to the side. “You’d have me naked in no time.”

  Dylan couldn’t help admiring her body once she said that. His eyes drifted down her face to her breasts. Moved beyond her flat stomach and to her curves, imagining what she looked like beneath that fabric. Not bad at all. “Is that right? Naked in no time? Wouldn’t be a bad sight.”

  His eyes met hers.

  The air around them changed. Sent zingers of heat between them that Dylan could feel below the belt. Lina’s eyes sparkled giving her away. He could see the changes in her eyes and the way her breath hitched that he was slowly changing her thoughts on the use of tongue tricks.

  He watched her throat move as she swallowed.

  “On second thought, I think I’m going to go up to my room.” Without another word Lina grabbed her laptop and headed up the stairs, leaving Dylan speechless in his tracks. Just when he was so confident that he was going to get his way she turned on her heel and ran.

  His phone buzzed.

  Cam.

  Snowmobile will be delivered in two days. Had trouble with the weather.

  Dylan sent a message back. Nice. Get another set of snow gear. For a woman. Medium maybe.

  Cam sent him another message almost instantly. Sure thing. Post another pic.

  Satisfyingly Cam didn’t ask about the women’s gear, probably assuming that Dylan was already fucking her. He should know better than that. Dylan sent another message. Not breaking the bet.

  Cam replied. I know.

  Dylan kicked back in his recliner and went to social media. Cam liked for Dylan to post daily, if not more than that. Dylan ran a hand through his hair and took a selfie. He didn’t care too much about the way he looked in this one. #MuchNeededR&R #DirtyGains. He hadn’t thought of posting anything until Cam had asked, so this was as good as it got. The second he hit the share button, he was instantly rewarded with numerous hearts and comments. Where are you? I’d love to feel that hair between my fingers. He chuckled and exited the app before the comments could take up his time.

  Another text. This time from Cole Carrington. Estes Park? It’s a blizzard up there. Have a second to talk? We’re going to start hiring. Wanted to run a few things by you.

  Sure.

  Dylan’s phone lit up with Cole’s name, and he answered half-ring. “What’s up?”

  “Not much. You’re getting pounded up there. We’re getting a light dusting down here. Why Estes?” Cole said.

  “Just taking a break,” he answered his friend.

  “What kind? The kind of break that’ll break our bet? Or a real break where you’re alone?”

  Dylan chuckled. “The condo got double-booked. When I showed up Lina Armstrong was here taking her break.”

  Cole cleared his throat. “The Lina Armstrong that came to the groundbreaking ceremony? Holy shit. I’ll have to tell the guys. How’s that bet going for you? You still holding up on your end? Or can I expect a check from Cam?”

  “Haha. The bet is going just fine. I’m not breaking it. Lina isn’t so bad. She’s on her own hiatus turns out. She quit her job and now she’s taking a break.”

  “Sounds like
you two got something in common,” Cole said.

  “Well I have to go back to my job. Lina doesn’t. She’s been looking for jobs all over.” Dylan glanced at the stairwell. Even though he wasn’t talking bad about Lina, he didn’t necessarily want an audience.

  “She’s been looking for work? Doing what?” Cole sounded intrigued, and Dylan had a feeling he knew where his friend was going with this.

  “I don’t know. I’m assuming women’s stuff. That’s what she knows. She doesn’t want a sixty-hour work week anymore.” Dylan had a feeling he knew where Cole was going with this. “I can hear the balls rolling. You gonna offer her a job?” Dylan asked.

  “Fuck yeah, I am. Perfect timing, no? We need someone with her reputation. Someone that knows her shit. Put her on the phone. I’ll talk to her,” Cole said.

  Dylan grimaced. “There’s one little problem with that. I can’t. While I’m here my last name is Truman.” Dylan hoped his friend would get the hint. After all, a few months ago he’d gone undercover and led his now-fiancé to believe he was someone else.

  “Truman? I don’t—Oh. She doesn’t know who you really are? You’re kidding me? Wow! She really was working too much not to have at least heard about you.” Sarcasm laced his voice.

  “Doesn’t work out. Doesn’t know about my world. In the clear so far. It would change shit if I said something.” Dylan hoped Cole out of all people could understand where Dylan was coming from. Cole knew what it was like to have people want to be your friend for how much money you had and what you could do for them. In fact, all of Dylan’s friends could understand that.

  “So you think you can get away with two whole weeks of not saying anything to her?” Dylan could hear the skepticism in his friend’s voice.

  As long as they could stay holed up here for the most part, he could. When they went into town, he was just going to have to wear his trusty beanie and his sunglasses. Make sure he looked as un-Dylan Truex-like as possible. “I’m going to try.”

  “What happened to the real Dylan?”

  “What?”

  “Did you eat some of Regina’s cookies? Holy shit, you did, didn’t you? I have to call Michael. She snuck one in on you, didn’t she? I bet she did. She’s driven like that.”

  Panic settled into Dylan’s stomach. A fear that he felt between his bones, crawling down his spine. Did he accidentally eat one of her cookies? His mind raced as he tried to come up with a timeline. The last few times they had all been together. He made it a point not to eat them, so his mind was coming up empty.

  “I’m freaking you out right now,” Cole said.

  Dylan grunted. “Pretty much. I don’t think I did.” Dylan shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Anyway, even if I did, that’s just a story. It isn’t real. Falling in love by eating someone’s sugar cookies can’t happen. It’s just hype we like to talk shit about. And I’m not falling anyway. We’re trying to enjoy our two weeks without annoying one another and in my case, without hitting the sheets.”

  Cole let out a sound that Dylan took as a yeah right. “We’ll see. I have to go. Jillian and Arabella are organizing a lingerie show for charity, and she’s texting me. Let me know when you let the cat out of the bag so we can hire Lina.”

  Dylan smirked. “Don’t hold your breath. At least for the next week and a half. Once I leave the condo, she’ll probably figure it out.”

  After Cole got in a few more jibs, Dylan ended their call. He had to agree with Cole; Lina would be a huge asset to The Francesca Project. They needed someone with her experience to run the project. The Francesca Project was created in memory of Cole’s little sister, Francesca. It was being funded by the five of them—Dylan, Michael, Cole, Zander and Justin. It was meant for women to live in when they got out of their bad situations. The Project was basically a full-on apartment complex—pools, playgrounds, garages—it was slowly expanding with boutique stores on the grounds thanks to Sophia Baldwin and Jillian Winters. A spa was now being added and Dylan wanted a larger gym. A salon was in the works as well. It was turning into a full-blown community.

  Lina would be perfect to hire there with her expertise. But Dylan wasn’t sure if she would be willing to don her ball buster attitude again. Was that what it would take to run The Francesca Project? Hell, if they set her up right, she’d have great people working around her and her career wouldn’t run her life like it had down in Arizona. They could figure out the right position for her.

  Maybe Colorado could be Lina’s new home.

  He only wished there was a way he could approach her about it. But he feared that would shake her memory and she would recall that he had been there the day of the ground-breaking. The news barely mentioned his name once or twice so maybe not. He could eek by hoping she wouldn’t remember. There were so many people there that day, who knows what she knew or remembered. It sounded like she was so busy before that Dylan could only hope it had gone in one ear and out the other.

  Dylan closed his eyes and settled into his chair. The dream that had been seeping into his thoughts every night since he arrived at the condo, came in. It was always about Dirty Gains. Always. Even in sleep, he thought about work, thought about ways he could improve his empire. He could feel the surge of hope and promise as he dreamt of going back to the days when he’d loved his work and loved to please his fan base. The warm fuzzy feeling he had always gotten when he started something new flowed freely through his body.

  Dylan never slept without thinking. Often times he would wake up with fresh ideas and new plans. It was always crystal clear when he woke up what he wanted to do and how he was going to get it done. But this dream—this promise of something good—wasn’t being cooperative.

  He grasped on to the strings, standing on the periphery of his life, waiting to take notes.

  But it wouldn’t come.

  Maybe he was working too hard on it. If he let it go maybe it would be easier. Not try to latch on to it too hard. God, please give this to me. Whatever it is, I need it. That much he knew. He just wasn’t sure why God was making him work so hard for it.

  His subconscious went from physical fitness to Lina. Regina’s smiling face. It was jumbled—something that didn’t usually happen to him. The strong smell of warm flour and sugar taunted his nostrils. His stomach growled. No sweets. Everyone needed a treat every now and then.

  His Dirty Gains logo floated across his internal movie screen in his dream state. The large bold letters and green font. Another sugar cookie, decorated with his logo on it floated by. He could see his hand reaching out in front him, his fingers settling around the edges of the cookie. The soft texture almost breakable against his thumb and forefinger.

  He licked his lips in anticipation.

  He opened his mouth as the sweet smell of frosting hit his nostrils. The cookie crumbled in his watering, waiting mouth. It was delicious. The cookie itself was soft and chewy, the frosting sweet against his tongue. The other half of the cookie held half his logo—the DIR from Dirty and the GAI were all that was left.

  He shoved the rest of it in his mouth and savored the remaining cookie, chewing slowly.

  Dylan’s heart began beating heavily in his chest. A fast tempo as panic sunk in. He awoke with a start.

  His eyes adjusted to the dim light shining in through the large window overlooking the river.

  The smell of freshly baked cookies lingered in his nostrils as if it were all real.

  Oh shit.

  He remembered.

  He had eaten some sugar cookies. Sweat marred his forehead. There was no way those were Regina’s specific cookies though. What were the odds? Seriously? He’d been at a Dirty Gains open house for his latest fifty-thousand square foot gym they’d opened in North Denver. The event had been about six weeks ago, and they’d provided giveaways for gym memberships, men and women’s attire, as well as private training programs with his elite private trainers. They’d served finger foods—veggies, fruit, cucumber sandwiches as well as desserts. Where had
those cookies come from?

  He was sure they hadn’t come from Regina. There were a few dozen of them. What were the odds? While Dylan knew Regina’s baking skills were top-notch, he hadn’t really known her to cater. Was there even a remote chance that she’d been hired to provide the desserts for that event?

  His wiped his clammy palms on his jeans, not even caring that he’d slept in the chair all night. The fire was almost out, and Dylan got up and threw in more logs, stoking it to his liking. His phone said it was a little past seven in the morning, and he wondered if Lina had ever come back downstairs last night.

  Lina. He’d dreamt about her too. Could still feel the desire to touch her and feel the smooth, hot skin of hers beneath his hands. But like some dreams, he was chasing her. She was always one step ahead of him, just out of his grasp.

  He paced in front of the window, for the first time noticing the small flakes falling from the sky. Shrug it off. Regina hadn’t made those cookies. He was about ninety percent sure of that.

  In fact, he was going to spend the new day tracking down the caterer just to be sure.

  Chapter Ten

  Lina missed her dad. It’d been easier in the beginning to ignore both parents, and she knew that wasn’t fair. She was being a selfish brat for ignoring her father. He’d always supported her and had never treated her the way her mother had. Well he hadn’t ever stood up to Lina’s mom either and demand that she treat Lina better. But he paid sweet attention to Lina—every Sunday making it a point to take her golfing. That was the one thing she shared with her dad that her mother hated.

  As she lay in bed, she turned her phone on and watched it power up. She should call her dad. At least just to say hi. She feared if she told them exactly where she was, her mother would have the guts to come find Lina and think she could order Lina back home. Lina still felt too vulnerable to deal with that. Half feared that she’d be stupid enough to get talked into going back.

  She pressed her dad’s number. Her stomach twisted in her belly.