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It hadn’t been easy, but Grace wrote her version of the date as honestly as she could. She’d confessed to the sexy-dress trick. And yes, even confessed that for a few minutes there on the date, she’d forgotten that it wasn’t for real.
When readers saw it in next month’s issue, round one would go to Jake.
But round two? Round two would be all Grace.
“Isn’t he, um, pivotal to this little plan?” Emma asked.
Grace shot her a glare, but Emma merely shrugged. Emma was like that, Grace was learning. Never really got riled. That used to be Grace’s thing. Cool under pressure. The voice of reason in the group.
And now? Now she couldn’t even call a guy.
“Okay,” she said, muttering under breath. “I’ll call him.”
They all looked at her expectantly.
“Not,” she said, pointing her finger at all of them, “with an audience.”
Camille appeared out of nowhere, helping herself to one of the doughnut holes that Riley had brought in. “You can use my office. I’m about to head out for an advertising meeting. That edible condoms company is still pushing for a two-page spread.”
Gross.
“Thanks, Camille. I appreciate it,” Grace said, smile fixed on her face.
“Uh-huh, your appreciation is palpable,” Riley said, eating her sixth doughnut hole.
The doubt on everyone’s face was bad enough. But Julie’s smile held pity, and that was so much worse. That sort of sympathy was precisely the thing she’d wanted to avoid when she’d come back from the beach with a vow to stay away from men. Without men, there wasn’t any of this self-doubt. None of the games and the butterflies and the wondering.
You’re being ridiculous, Grace 2.0 pep-talked. You’ve met this guy exactly twice. Once wasn’t even a date, it was a hijacked taxi ride. And the second time was a work meeting.
This wasn’t romance.
Or even a crush.
It was business.
Grace didn’t give herself time to think about it. Once in Camille’s office, she scrolled through her phone until she found the number Jake had sent over email for “when she was ready.”
Oh, she was ready, all right. Ready for revenge.
It rang twice. “Malone.”
Grace raised her eyebrows. Not exactly the warm greeting of a guy who knew who was on the other line.
“Brighton,” she barked in response.
There was a beat of silence, and Grace felt her stomach drop.
Dear God. He didn’t know her last name? As if it wasn’t bad enough that he apparently hadn’t added her to his contact list, had he actually forgotten her?
“Grace. Hey.”
“Hey,” she snapped. She didn’t miss the way his tone had shifted from businesslike efficiency to honeyed charm once he’d placed her in his little brain vault of women. Save it, Malone.
“Cassidy passed along your story notes,” he said, ignoring the sharpness of her response. “I guess he and Camille thought it was only fair that we get a heads-up on what to expect before it went to press next week.”
She wandered to the floor-to-ceiling windows of Camille’s corner office. “I’m assuming you gloated? It had to have felt good seeing in writing that I fell for your little trick at the end of the date.”
He hesitated. “I’m not a total dick, Grace.”
