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Of all the people to come and tell her how to do her job, William standing here irritated her the most. They’d both started out at MET as runners for cable television reality shows, doing errands for the directors, showrunners and field producers. They’d both vied for the same executive producer opening. And while William might have been the mobile showrunner with all the power to make creative and directive decisions, everyone on set listened to Amelia. She and her group of cameramen had their jobs down pat. William wanted this assignment for the chance to work with the Caribbean royal family, the Ruizes. Everyone at MET wanted the chance to head over to the Ruiz compound in San Juan, Puerto Rico, to film footage for Azúcar. Thanks to the quick friendship she and Natalia had forged, Amelia had earned the honors to work with the icon for the commercial.
“You sure?” William bared his teeth while his upper lip curled. His puffy hand thrust forward, shoving his cell phone toward her face. Amelia’s already blown-out back ached from the base of her spine as she leaned backward to focus on the picture of Natalia having an intimate dinner with a bearded stranger. The corners of William’s mouth turned upward and his eyes roamed the part of her body visible through the door. Amelia reached for the phone but William pulled it away. “You dropped the ball in order to get your beauty rest.”
“She said she was going to bed and I am allowed some personal time.”
“For as long as you’ve been babysitting her,” William gritted, “when did she say she wanted a quiet evening?”
Jesus, no wonder Natalia had been so sweet this evening. How long had she been planning this rendezvous? And who was this mystery man? Amelia documented Natalia?
??s life practically twenty-four hours out of the day. She’d never seen the man on the screen. Only the side of his face showed from William’s phone, but Amelia knew if she waited long enough, more pictures would be plastered over the internet. “Where is she now?”
“Hell if I know. Whoever is blogging said the two of them parted and went their separate ways after dinner. Damn shame we didn’t get any of this on film. Do you understand what our ratings would be like? If Natalia’s ready to start dating, we could have a bachelorette spin-off.”
Ratings were not an issue for Amelia as long as Natalia stayed interested in being in the public eye. Lately, however, she hadn’t enjoyed it too much—neither of them. The closer she grew to Natalia, the more Amelia liked her. They were friends. Unlike Natalia, Amelia was a far cry from an heiress.
“Are you even listening to me?” William’s bark snapped Amelia out of her pity party.
She straightened her spine and shook her head while closing her door. “Give me a minute and I’ll go find her.” The door clicked closed, locking William out of her life for a brief moment.
“She’s not in her room,” William shouted from the other side of the door.
Dressed, Nate stepped out from the bathroom. Amelia’s heart sunk with disappointment. She gave him a half smile and inhaled deeply as he crossed the room toward her.
“I take it you’ve got to go?”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes focused on the center of his defined chest. The maroon V-neck T-shirt he wore hugged his pecs and arms. The first thing about him she’d spotted was his bicep when he reached across the bar downstairs to pay for a round of drinks. She’d always adored a man with nice arms.
“Did you at least enjoy yourself?” Nate asked, stopping inches from her. His gaze focused on her lips.
“Hell yeah.” Amelia anticipated his hug and opened her arms. Somehow being in his embrace she felt safe, warm, as if everything was going to be okay—but it wasn’t. Her tryst this evening might come with a cost—her job. Was he worth it? Nate’s arms closed tighter around her waist and he effortlessly lifted her into the air while planting a stream of kisses along her collarbone. Goose bumps began to swarm her forearms. A wicked wave of passion fluttered between her legs. Dear Lord Jesus, yes, this man was worth it.
“I plan on seeing you again,” Nate declared, setting her on her feet.
“I wouldn’t bet the farm.” Amelia half smiled. “I am a pretty busy woman.”
“I like farms.” Nate perked up. His emerald green eyes lit up with curiosity. “What do you know about farms?”
“Boy, please,” she said, pushing at his chest playfully. “We may have just met, but don’t be fooled by the manicure. Trust me, I spent my summers on my grandmamma’s farm in rural Georgia eating peaches straight from the tree.”
“How rural?” Her body moved forward when Nate tugged at the button of her slacks. “I love me a country girl.”
“We’re talking one streetlight downtown, you blink and you miss it.”
“Keep talking.” He stroked his long index finger against her earlobe and down the curve of her jaw. “You’re turning me on.”
“I wish I had the time.”
“We have to do this again,” he said, leaving a trail of kisses where his fingers had touched moments ago.
Flames of desire flickered in the pit of her stomach. A television pitch popped into her head:
Dear MET executives,
Instead of airing a highlight segment on the best fights of our reality shows, how about the best hookups of seasons past? Better yet, best one-night stands, complete with a where-is-he-now segment.
Sincerely,
Amelia
