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“Can you stick around a minute?” Wilkes says. It’s just me and him and Greeley left in the conference room.
And Hicks, of course. He hasn’t moved a muscle since their little announcement. I think I’d be offended, except his obvious discomfort is pretty damn amusing.
“Drew,” says Wilkes, waiting for him to look up from the table. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“No sir,” says Hicks softly. There’s steel in his voice.
“Good,” says Wilkes. “Because we cannot afford to have this competition derailed by some personal bullshit.”
Hicks doesn’t say anything.
“So what exactly do you need from us?” I ask. The “us” feels weird on my tongue. Weighty.
“Drew here will stick close to you for the duration of the competition,” says Greeley, piling up papers into a briefcase. “Inasmuch as your schedules allow, anyway. Doesn’t need to be on camera necessarily, but as long as you’re on-site I expect you to stick together. Don’t go looking for attention.”
They want us practically holding hands. Jesus. But Greeley literally signs my checks for the next few weeks, so I suck it up and nod. Greeley shakes my hand, then Hicks’s after he finally rises from his seat. “I’m in meetings the rest of the day, so if you’ll all excuse me. Ty here will be your point man if anything comes up,” says Greeley. He nods at Wilkes. “I appreciate your cooperation, gentlemen.” Picking up the briefcase, he’s out the door.
Hicks still has barely spoken and Wilkes doesn’t look too happy about that fact. Folding his arms across his chest, he says, “Last chance, Drew. If we’re going to have a problem, now’s the time to say so.”
“I can handle it,” he says. I snort, and he finally looks at me. Golden Boy’s got laser vision when he wants to. The heat in my stomach ticks up a notch.
“Get it out of your system now,” says Hicks. “I don’t want to have to deal with this crap all week. Some of us have work to do.”
“You think I’m here for fun?” Asshole.
“I’m not sure what you’re doing here at all,” he snaps.
“Running circles around your ass, apparently.”
“Oh, I’d like to see you try.”
A bang cuts me off as Wilkes slams his hand down on the conference table.
“Enough,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You two can take your weird foreplay somewhere else. Do your best to keep it off camera. Or don’t—I don’t care either way. But in case Greeley didn’t make it clear, for the duration of this competition, working together is part of your job. Both of your jobs.” Wilkes fixes us each with a hard look and strides out of the room.
That word—foreplay—puts the itch right back between my shoulder blades, making me stand up straighter. Time to go.
I shut my damn mouth—Because foreplay? Really? Why’d he have to say it like that?—and don’t make a sound when Hicks and I get stuck on the same elevator down to the lobby.
7
Bailey
A few days later...
Parking at the arena is such a clusterfuck that I end up taking a shuttle to the entrance. The crowd isn’t helping my nerves one bit, that’s for sure.
After the gala Friday night I spent the weekend thinking about what Kenna had said, about signing up for the cooking competition, turning over the possibility again and again. I completed the forms with wine-soaked enthusiasm just before registration closed late Sunday night. Posing as Drew’s fake girlfriend was no reason to stop me from doing something I genuinely wanted to do, after all.
My boss doesn’t share my enthusiasm. But since I never go on vacation—hell, I haven’t taken off more than a day or two in the last three years—there’s nothing he can do about it.
As for Drew... I wouldn’t say I’m avoiding him, exactly, but I haven’t seen him since he left my apartment that night. And just because I haven’t responded to any of his texts since then doesn’t mean I’m avoiding him.
Sure thing, girl. Whatever you want to tell yourself.
It’s just that if he’d stayed on my couch any longer Friday night I was either going to hit him or kiss him again. And considering he’s my best friend neither seemed like a good idea.
The check-in line isn’t nearly as long as I expected, considering the crowd. I guess most of these people are here just as spectators, which makes sense. They’ve got vendors and sponsors set up along the walkways like some kind of damn carnival.
