She FaceTimed Shay, who answered on the first ring.
“Tell me I can still back out,” Brinton whispered, knees pressed into her chest.
“Why are you whispering?” Shay asked casually, waving a banana in her free hand like a magic wand as she perched atop their mother’s granite kitchen island. “Also,whereare you? That all-white room is giving off hostagevibes.”
“I’m at Jamie’s house. Well, his dad’s house.” Brinton squeezed her knees tighter, trying to breathe through the invisible chisel needling her temples. “But I have to meet him at this party where I won’t know anyone buthim. And I’m scared I’m gonna screw it all up or embarrass myself again. So, tell me to quit and come home.”
Shay leaned closer into the screen. “Why are you sitting like that? Did Jamie tie you up? Wait, that is kinda hot.”
“Shayla, how do they let you out of the house?”
“Consensually, of course! Didn’t think the man had it in him. But I like it.”
“No, he didn’t tie me up!” Brinton snapped, panning the screen down to her unbounded hands and feet. “Can you just agree with me for a minute?”
Shay paused to chew. “Depends. Are you trying to talk yourself out of interviewing the man who, as you believe, can fast track that career you keep griping about?”
“I mean, yes?—”
“Then absolutely-fucking-not. You’ve already talked to him and survived, right?”
“Barely.” Brinton still hadn’t found a way to get the stain out from her Grammys dress. “Anyway, Rich says I need a juicy angle.”
“Leave it to that clown to ruin the word juicy.”
Against her might, Brinton giggled. “Yeah, and I probably won’t get that from Jamie without pinning him down.”
“Now, that’s an idea I can get behind.”
At Brinton’s guttural groan, Shay rolled her eyes. “Look, you’re brilliant, and you spend all day researching people, places, and things forLandmark. I also know you’re anxious right now, so maybe it feels harder to summon that sexy sleuth inside. But just slow down, remember that you busted your ass to get there, and let this new world guide you.There’s a treasure trove at your disposal. Everything you need to know about the man is already there.”
“Shit, you’re right,” Brinton breathed. She wiped her sticky free hand on her jeans. “He’s gotta have some snaggle-toothed Little League photos lying around or something. I could start there, with a few easy questions about his past. Get him talking?”
“There she is! Now don’t call me back until you do.” Shay cocked a brow. “Or if he lets you tiehimup. Then definitely call me back.”
Twenty minutes later, after a quick shower, Brinton changed into a black tank top and matching belted midi skirt with pockets. It was the most casual outfit she had packed. Pushing her braids off her shoulder, she slipped in her favorite gold hoops and stepped into a pair of black platform Mary Janes. In the massive vanity mirror, she smiled. She looked better than she’d hoped. Plus, she was wearing her good bra.
Yee-freaking-haw.
On the marble countertop, a small framed silver photo caught her eye. A young Jamie Jr. and a supermodel-beautiful blonde, whose bright smile lit up the sun-faded image. She kissed his cheek as they posed in front of the spinning teacups ride at Walt Disney World.
It had to be Jamie’s mother, judging by the uncanny likeness.
MaryBell Crawford died of natural causes when Jamie was a teenager. At least that’s all Brinton could find online about her. Not much else had been published because she died long before social media’s rise. She was also married to a notoriously private music icon.
In her research, Brinton hadn’t found a single article where Jamie had mentioned his mother.
Why is that?
The question looped in Brinton’s mind as she plodded downstairs and through the front door. It was obvious how Jamie’s father had influenced his career. Was there something untapped about his mother? That was a hell of an exclusive—and something Jamie’s Country Boy Charm couldn’t evade.
Because Brinton wouldn’t let him.
CHAPTER NINE
“You really don’t remember?” Stella Wrangler asked Jamie hopefully.
Jamie only vaguely remembered her from junior high. Stella was still petite, with a mess of wavy blond hair that overtook her small frame. She leaned in so close that the smoked chicken on her breath slapped him across the face.
