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I grinned. “I will neither confirm nor deny that.”
After hanging up, I smoothed my dark brown hair again. It nearly brushed my elbows, and the strong wind had tangled it up. When another gust blew dirt in my eyes, making them water, I decided that waiting out here wasn’t the best idea.
The interior of the hotel was decorated in shades of earthy brown and dark green, a welcome change from the gray façade. I headed straight to the ladies’ room to check my makeup.
I hadn’t smeared my mascara or the light gold eyeshadow that brought out my brown eyes nicely. Good. I was ready to go.
When my boss had asked me if my schedule allowed me to take on another client, I’d honestly wanted to say it was packed, but instead I went with, “I can make room for one more project.”
Half an hour later, after reviewing some of the most recent tabloid fodder, I’d feared I might have said yes too quickly. As a general rule of thumb, I liked to push myself, but this might be more than I could chew. Reid Davenport, thirty-two-year-old hotel mogul, had led a
quiet life before his ex splashed his name everywhere. Now, every joint in Hollywood knew who he was.
Mind you, they knew who he wasn’t too. Even just rifling through what was true and what was not would be a challenge. Since joining Cameron’s PR agency, I’d worked on a string of projects I’d wrapped up beautifully. I had to remind myself that some of those had looked hopeless in the beginning, just like this one. No contract had been signed yet, but I didn’t want to disappoint Cameron. He was in many ways a father figure. I just had to roll up the proverbial sleeves and deal with this one step at a time.
My main goal today was to see if Reid Davenport was a good fit for the agency.
When there were just five minutes left, I introduced myself to the receptionist. She handed me a visitor badge, informing me I was expected on the seventh floor.
I rode the elevator with a bunch of men and women in suits, and three others stepped out with me.
A woman with graying hair met me.
“Ms. Connor, I’m Deborah. So glad to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Mr. Davenport is waiting for you. Follow me.”
She led me through a long corridor lined with doors. We stopped at the very end.
“Here it is.”
She knocked briefly, and then we both walked in.
“Reid, Ms. Connor is here.”
After Deborah left, Reid gave me a curt nod, pointing to the leather couch next to his desk. “Ms. Connor.”
He stood by the large window behind his desk. Despite the attention he was getting, paparazzi hadn’t hounded him, so the only pictures available were the ones from events he’d attended with his ex, and the headshot from his website. Reid Davenport resembled one of those old-Hollywood stars. I could easily picture him as the leading man in any movie... or maybe the villain, the type that becomes a fan favorite just because he makes dangerous seem so sexy and alluring. He had that tall, dark vibe going on that spelled danger.
Reid watched me silently as I sat on the couch. He had dark brown, almost black hair and blue-gray eyes that were looking at me with so much frostiness I had the distinct impression he didn’t want me there. Over the years, I’d learned to pick up nonverbal signals. Unwilling clients were always a waste of time. I hoped my intuition was wrong. Reid sat on the leather chair adjacent to the couch. An uncomfortable silence stretched for a few seconds.
“Mr. Davenport, your team has informed me of the general gist of the problem. I’ve done online research, but it’s best if you tell me in your own words how the situation came to be.”
“What exactly do you want to know?”
“Are any of the claims Marion is making true?”
“I don’t read gossip sites, but as a general rule of thumb, you can’t take anything she says at face value.”
Clearly, he was not going to make my job easy. I shifted a few inches forward on the couch before sliding right back. He radiated an energy that I felt even though he was a few feet away. It was intense. All-consuming.
I’d hoped for more information. “When did things between you and Marion start going downhill?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
I flinched a little at his cutting tone, then rolled my shoulders. “It is relevant or I would not have asked. I’m trying to figure out what triggered everything.”
