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“You think?” I retort.
“Something tells me you’re just looking for reasons not to like me.”
Hammer meet nail.
“Why would I be doing that?” I swallow hard.
“You tell me.” He hitches a brow, crossing his arms in front of himself.
“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re justnota likable guy?”
The smile that lights up his face is enough to melt even the most frozen of hearts, mine included. I feel myself warm from the inside out, a tingle running from the back of my neck all the way to my toes.
“Now I know you’re full of shit.” He throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh, the kind that fills a room.
I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to suppress my own laughter.
“I’m hungry, Hamilton. What do you say we walk down to the sandwich place on the corner and grab a quick bite?” He straightens, dropping his feet to the floor.
“And risk ending up on another tabloid site… Pass.”
“You saw that?”
“Pretty sure the entire world has seen it.”
“Yeah,” he scratches his chin, “sorry about that.”
“Are you really, though?”
“No, not really.” He chuckles. “Unfortunately, it’s part of my life.”
“Isn’t your security team supposed to stop things like that from happening?” I ask.
“They do their best, but they can’t control everything, Clarke. Besides, paparazzi have a way of getting the shot, no matter how hard you try not to give it to them.”
“Seems they’ve gotten quite a few of you over the years.”
“Comes with the territory.” He stands. “So, food?”
“It might be part of your life but I don’t want it to be part of mine.” I ignore the food question completely.
“Why? Afraid what people will think of you?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly. “I run my own business. Iamthe business. If my clients catch wind that I’m out with someone who’s slept his way through half of L.A., what do you think they’ll think of me? No one will want to buy a house from me.”
“Are you kidding?Everyonewill want to buy a house from you. Think about it. You’re hanging out with Hollywood’s most talked about bad boy. You think that’s not going to bring in business? You’re looking at this as a negative when all I see are positives.”
I think on his statement, and as much as I hate it, he’s probably not wrong. People are obsessed with celebrities and rarely care if they’re saints or downright scum. But it’s not only about what potential clients might think of me, it’s also about what my parents will think, mainly my father.
“Look, we’re just friends. Or we could be,” he adds when he catches the expression on my face. “It’s not like they’re going to get photos of us fucking in an alleyway somewhere. Once they realize there’s no story here, they’ll go away.”
“And until then?”
“Just ignore it.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Maybe we should just chalk this up to a business adventure that has run its course and leave it at that.”
“Is that what you really want?”
