“And why did you? Did you think a sportswriter would be ridiculed for dispensing relationship advice to the lovelorn?”
“My readers aren’t lovelorn. They’re smart women who enjoy the ongoing discussion on the mating rituals between men and women.”
“What do you know,” Eric whispered. “He was listening to me.”
Jack was grinning now. “We all read advice columns in the papers, regardless of how our own lives are going. It’s human to be interested in other people’s problems and concerns, don’t you think? Sometimes it puts things in perspective, helps us feel like maybe we’ve got it better than we thought.”
The reporter smiled, a bit more thinly this time. She’d apparently thought he’d be a bit of a pushover. “I suppose. So why keep it a secret?”
“Honestly? I thought the air of mystery would enhance the appeal of an advice column written by a man.” The grin again. “And I was right.”
The reporter was persistent, though Valerie suspected she’d respected his straightforward answer. “And now?” the woman asked.
Jack’s gaze flicked very briefly beyond the reporter’s shoulder to the spot off set where Valerie and Eric stood. “Nothing works forever. I’d been thinking about lifting the veil, so to speak, but was unsure how to do it.”
“Meaning, you wanted to exploit it if you could.”
So much for this being an all-fluff filler, Valerie thought.
Now Jack’s smile grew a bit tight. “From a marketing standpoint, it made sense to tie in revealing my true identity to a book launch or something like that. Then the lovely ladies of Glass Slipper approached me with an offer to be their spokesperson.” He shrugged, all guileless charm. Or so it appeared. “It seemed the perfect way to help us both.”
The reporter’s smile was wide and predatory.
What she didn’t know, Valerie thought, was that Jack had played this interview to this exact moment, wanting the question that was surely about to follow. So she could afford to let the reporter feel smug. Just as long as she managed to fit this next bit into their ninety-second spot.
“Speaking of the lovely ladies of Glass Slipper, you were spotted leaving the big launch bash with their publicist. What’s the story there?”
“Ms. Wagner has done a dynamite job bringing together the magazine launch. I know the owners are very happy with her work.”
“I would say, given some of the photos we’ve seen, that you’ve been pretty happy with her performance as well.”
Jack gave her an admonishing smile. “The last I checked, we were both single, consenting adults. Beyond that, it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to speak of private moments, would it?”
“So, you two are an item, then?”
“I didn’t say that.”
The reporter leaned closer, trying for that it’s-just-you-and-me vibe. “Well, what are you saying, then?”
Valerie tensed. Come on, Jack, she silently telegraphed. Finish it up so we can get out of here.
“My reasons for signing on with Glass Slipper were and are strictly professional. That hasn’t changed.”
“But your relationship with their publicist has, perhaps?”
Valerie willed Jack to keep his gaze locked on the interviewer and not risk even a hint of interest in her. It was clear the reporter was on the hunt now and would detect the slightest hitch in his response.
“Ms. Wagner puts her job first. She’s a consummate professional.”
The reporter’s smile turned knowing. “You’re very good at evasive answers. Is this how you counsel your readers?”
Jack’s smile was just as knowing. “I wouldn’t characterize my advice that way. Why don’t you read my column in this month’s issue of Glass Slipper and judge for yourself?”
The reporter laughed and nodded as if to say touché, then turned to the camera to begin her prepared wrap-up. Jack shot Valerie a quick wink, all relaxed and smiling.
Was she the only one whose stomach was in knots?
“When is the Bay Area interview?” Eric asked.
“We’ll have an hour after this. We’re taking that call at Glass Slipper, Incorporated. We’re meeting with the godmothers afterward.”
“Tabloid notwithstanding, they must be happy with this heightened exposure.” Eric waved to Jack as the techs unhooked his mike.
“They weren’t too happy this morning, but the tide should be shifting by now.” She faced him. “How about you? Any regrets?”
“Only the stress and strain this has added to your life.”
“And Jack’s?”
Eric laughed a little, looking past her to where Jack was amiably chatting up the reporter, off camera. “It was a lot to ask of him, yes. But it looks like he’s holding up all right.” He glanced back to Valerie, his expression serious now. “How about you? Are you holding up all right?”
She managed a smile, a little nod. “I’m getting there.”
“I know Jack would have never intended to put you in this situation,” he told her. “He’s a stand-up guy. His heart may be a little bit battered, which is understandable given all he’s been through, but it’s still in the right place.”
“He’s told me a little bit about that.” Eric looked surprised, and her smile deepened more naturally. “I guess it’s not all that surprising he’s a bit cynical. I might be, too, in his place. But his heart is definitely in the right place when it comes to your friendship. He doesn’t take that for granted. He knows he’s lucky to have you in his life.”
“We’re both lucky,” Eric said, considering her a bit more thoughtfully. “You know, I wouldn’t have picked you two for each other, but the more I see you together . . . You’re good for him.” His lips curved a little. “And, whether you want to hear it or not, I think he’s good for you.”
Valerie blushed a little, tried to cover it with an eye roll. “Suddenly everyone is my mother,” she teased, tossing his words of the night before back at him.
“Just don’t be too quick to dismiss him,” Eric said, grinning, though his tone was sincere. “The timing might suck, but he’s worth the effort.”
Valerie really didn’t want to be having this discussion. Things were too confusing to think about this, much less discuss it with Jack’s best friend. “Speaking of timing, how are things going with Brice?”
Eric’s eyes sparkled and his answer came with no hesitation. “Fantastic. I’m having the time of my life. Finally. He’s really amazing.”
Jack came up just then, slung an arm around Eric’s broad shoulders. “Ah, young love. It’s so disgusting.”
Valerie shot him a look. “Careful what you say there, PC, there’s a lot of microphones around. If you’re all set, let’s get out of here. We have to make the drive to Maryland.” She looked at Eric. “We’re in the company town car. Do you want to leave your car here and go with us, or follow?”
Eric’s cheeks colored ever so slightly. It was actually becoming on his beautiful face. “I’ll, uh, meet you there. I know the way.”
Jack made a show of rolling his eyes, but it was clear he was just joking. “Oh, Jesus, he’s got loverboy tucked away in the Jag.”
“Brice has been considering buying one, so I’m letting him test-drive mine,” Eric explained happily, not remotely put off by the teasing.
“Looks like Cabana Boy is test-driving all kinds of things,” Jack commented, with a little shot to Eric’s shoulder.
Eric caught Jack’s fist in his own and easily twisted his arm, his smile smooth and beguiling. “Stop calling him that, okay?”
Jack was chuckling as he shook his arm loose. “Pretty touchy. Must be true love.” He feinted just in time to avoid a jab to the ribs.
Valerie just shook her head at their horseplay. Eric was right about one thing, though. Jack was a stand-up guy. Not every man, especially one as alpha as Jack was, would handle their best buddy’s coming out so well.
“At least I know it when it’s staring me in the face,” Eric sa
id pointedly.
Valerie felt the heat rise in her cheeks and pushed them both in the back, careful to avoid eye contact with either of them. “Can we please at least get to the parking lot before we ruin what little credibility we’ve managed to build today?”
“Hey,” Jack protested, “I think I’ve done pretty damn well, if I do say so myself.”
“Which, considering you caused this mess in the first place—” Eric began, but was cut off by Valerie.
“Let’s not go there, okay? What’s done is done and I think we’ve turned it to our advantage.” If she ignored the part about the tabloid headline staring her in the face for the next week, that is. She’d already decided to just order takeout until the paper disappeared from her grocery store. They paused beside the town car. “Don’t lag too far behind,” she told Eric. “The godmothers want you at the meeting, too.”
Eric’s brows lifted. “Any particular reason?”
“No. I think it’s just that as Jack’s manager, they think you should be present.” Her lips curved. “Personally, I’m pretty sure that after seeing you in those Dolce and Gabbana pants at the photo shoot, Vivian has made your presence mandatory at all future meetings. And trust me, her opinion only strengthened after seeing you in Prada last night.”
Eric grinned. “Well, then, I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Okay, let’s not take this gay thing too far,” Jack deadpanned.
Eric laughed. “We’ll see you there.”
Eric waved and trotted across the lot toward his shiny XK8 and even shinier new love. She wanted not to worry about Eric, she had enough on her plate handling Jack. But she liked him. A lot. Despite the havoc he’d wreaked on her life, she knew he was a good, decent man. And she couldn’t help but wonder if he was jumping in too deep, too fast. Or maybe she was just projecting, she thought, her gaze shifting to Jack as he opened the door for her.
“So, are we going?” Jack asked, a droll smile curving his lips. “Or are we going to lust after what we can’t have?”
“I could trade up if I wanted,” she quipped, rebounding fast.
“I wasn’t talking about the car.”
She smiled and slid into the backseat. “Neither was I.”
He just gave her a yeah-right look as he slid in next to her.
“Just because a guy is gorgeous does not automatically make a woman lust after him.”
They moved away from the curb and set off down Nebraska Avenue. “So you’re telling me that when he first walked into the room, you didn’t want him? Not even a tiny little tingle?”
“No,” she lied. “Did you?”
Jack laughed. “I’ve known him since we were both pimply and sprouting faux whiskers. Even if I were gay, I would be long over him.”
“Somehow I can’t see either of you as awkward adolescents.”
“Trust me, all guys are awkward at that age, no matter how smooth they think they are. In fact, the smoother they think they are, the more vulnerable and dorky they probably feel.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He just shrugged, then made a truly dorky face.
She laughed despite herself. “I guess it was more awkward for Eric than you knew.”
He sobered quickly and glanced out the window. “Yeah, I guess it was.”
“So how did the two of you meet? You said, or he said, that you lived with his family for a while?” She told herself she was probing for business reasons. The more she knew about him, the fewer surprises could be sprung on them all. And as she held her breath, waiting to see if he’d answer, open up a little, she knew that for the half-truth it was. She wanted to know more. As a publicist . . . and as a woman.
“I spent some time at his house,” he said casually. Too casually.
He didn’t elaborate and she spent a few seconds deciding how much to push. “Trouble at home?” she asked, figuring that was general enough.
“More or less.”
He shifted a little, clearly uncomfortable. At least it was clear if you knew what to look for. His jaw was tense, which she knew wasn’t the norm for him. His shoulders were a little hunched, when he was usually the epitome of relaxed and unwound. At least outwardly.
“What about now?”
His gaze flicked from the window to her, and the intensity she found there surprised her. “What about now what?”
“Your family. Did you ever sort things out?”
A moment ago she’d had to look to see the signs of his discomfort. Now? Not so hard.
“I have no family, remember? Eric is as close to family as I have.”
“I meant before . . . never mind. It’s none of my business.” She realized then that she didn’t know nearly as much about him as she should, considering the heightened interest in him. Most of the interviews thus far had been focused on his career and the shroud of secrecy he’d worked under. No one had probed much into his past, beyond how he’d gotten his start. And since it was clear he wasn’t too thrilled about her poking around in it, either, she elected to let it drop. For now.
“So,” he asked at length, “do you think we contained the damage?”
They crossed the Potomac, heading toward Maryland. How much of the truth should she tell him? Did he need to know just how spectacularly well he’d done? If he’d needed the confidence boost, yes.
But Jack Lambert’s confidence was never in danger of being anemic. “I think we’re on the right path,” she told him.
His lips curved knowingly. “The right path. Huh.”
She wasn’t sure she liked how easily he saw through her professional demeanor. Most of the people she dealt with were so caught up in themselves, they were willing to believe whatever image she chose to project. Jack, as she was so quickly learning, was not most people. But his shoulders had relaxed, his jaw had lost that harsh edge, the twinkle had returned to his eyes. And they still had one interview to go, and the godmother showdown. So she figured it was worth the responding dangerous spike in her libido. Surely she could control herself for the duration of a thirty-minute car ride.
His smile grew as he held her gaze.
Okay, maybe not so sure. She cleared her throat and slid her glasses on, pulled out her notes. Not caring if he saw right through her quickly erected shield. She just prayed he’d honor its intent. “There are a few things we should probably go over.”
“Do you think the Bay Area DJs are going to toss me anything I haven’t already dealt with?” he asked, his tone serious now, sincere.
“Probably not. But I wasn’t referring to that, actually.”
“You’re worried about the godmother meeting, then? Do you think they’re still going to be pissed about the tabloid after today’s blitz?”
“Let’s hope not. I doubt they’ll hold any of this against you, anyway.”
“Meaning, you’re taking all the heat. Why? Didn’t you tell them that I was the one who suggested—”
“It’s okay. And frankly, although Mercedes wasn’t thrilled, I don’t think Aurora and Vivian were all that upset.” In fact, she knew they weren’t. Vivian had privately given her a high five and Aurora had winked and patted her on the arm as they’d left their early morning meeting. “But they are well aware of the double standard the public applies to two people caught in a compromising position.” Her smile was dry and tight. “Notice that the assumption was immediately made that I had lured you into the deal. Not that you had seduced me into offering it to you.”
“Well, I think we effectively cleared that up, don’t you?” He lifted his hands when she snorted. “Okay, I know how the media operates. Hey, don’t give me that well-duh look. Just because I’m a journalist does not mean I’m a muckraker. I write about curling and bocce ball, for God’s sake. Trust me, my subjects would love to be exploited, if for no other reason than to bring the hot glare of attention to their obscure sport. But that’s not what I’m about.”
Valerie chewed on the end of her pen. “All I’m saying is, the jo
urnalists who are involved in this story may not share your integrity. They’ll put whatever spin on it that will sell papers, tune in viewers, or gain a wider listening audience. We can only hope that some of what we’ve put out there today can do that, with little or no embellishment on their part.”
“So if it’s not the interview and it’s not the godmother meeting, what else is there to talk about?”
“The fallout from the fallout. This round of media will be disseminated to the public over the next several news cycles, likely petering out after forty-eight hours. It’s the weekend, news will be slow on Capitol Hill, and the major entertainment news shows are off until Monday. By then, movie premieres will have occurred, someone will have announced a new world tour, whatever. Prince Charming will be yesterday’s news.” She lifted her gaze from her notes. “And no matter what the godmothers say, that’s exactly how I’d like it to play out. Our new mantra is: ‘We got more exposure than we could have hoped for, but we don’t want to wear out our welcome.’ Overkill can be deadly. Besides, if I can’t do something with what we’ve already got, then I deserve to lose my job. Eric is already writing the column for the next issue, and I’m sure you’d like to get on with your life.”
He held her gaze with a far more serious expression than she’d expected.
The limo bounced a little as they pulled off the main road and began winding down the long drive toward the stately Victorian house that was home to Glass Slipper, Inc. He was still staring at her when they glided to a stop.
Mercedes, Vivian, and Aurora all descended the wide front steps leading from the shaded front porch, looking excited (Vivian), concerned (Mercedes), and anxious (Aurora).
“Promise me you’ll follow my lead,” Valerie said, feeling the tension start to ball up inside her again, which was mixing uncomfortably with the sexual tension Jack had somehow re-ignited during the last few minutes.
“I’m not so sure.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What do you mean you’re not so sure?” She shot a fast glance at the approaching trio, then back at him. “You’ve been doing great all day. Don’t play around with me on this, okay?”
Dear Prince Charming Page 18