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“You mean they want to see me making steady progress toward marriage and children.”
Odele nodded.
“Life is rarely that neat.” She should know.
Odele gave a big sigh. “Well, we don’t deal in reality, do we, honey? Our currency in Hollywood is the stardust of dreams.”
Chiara resisted rolling her eyes. She really needed a vacation.
“That’s why a little relationship is just what you need to get your name back out there in a positive way.”
“And how am I supposed to get said relationship?”
Odele snapped her fingers. “Easy. I have just the man.”
“Who?”
“A stuntman, and you’ve already met him.”
A horrifying thought entered Chiara’s head, and she narrowed her eyes. “You put out the rumor that Rick and I are getting cozy.”
OMG. She’d gone to Odele with the rumor because she expected her manager to stamp out a budding media firestorm. Instead, she’d discovered Odele was an arsonist...with poor taste in men.
Odele nodded. “Damn straight I did. We need a distraction from stories about your father.”
Chiara stepped forward. “Odele, how could you? And with—” she stabbed her finger in the direction of the door “—him of all people.”
Odele remained placid.
Chiara narrowed her eyes again. “Has he said anything about your little scheme?”
“He hasn’t objected.”
No wonder Rick had seemed almost...intimate a few minutes ago. He’d been approached by Odele to be her supposed love interest. Chiara took a deep breath to steady herself and temper her reaction. “He’s not my type.”
“He’s any woman’s type, honey. Arm candy.”
“There’s nothing sweet about him, believe me.” He was obnoxious, irritating and objectionable in every way.
“He might not be sugar, but he’ll look edible to many of your female fans.”
Chiara threw up her hands. It was one thing not to contradict a specious story online, it was another to start pretending it was true. And now she’d discovered that said story had been concocted by none other
than her own manager. “Oh, c’mon, Odele. You really expect me to stage a relationship for the press?”
Odele arched a brow. “Why not? Your competition is making sex tapes for the media.”
“I’m aiming for the Academy Awards, not the Razzies.”
“It’s no different from being set up on a date or two by a friend.”
“Except you’re my manager and we both know there’s an ulterior motive.”
“There’s always an ulterior motive. Money. Sex. You name it.”
“Is this necessary? My competition has survived extramarital affairs, DUIs and nasty custody disputes with their halos intact.”
“Only because of quick thinking and fancy footwork on the part of their manager or publicist. And believe me, honey, my doctor keeps advising me to keep my stress level to a minimum. It’s not good for the blood pressure.”
