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“No.”
He sat up and dropped his rangy legs over the side of the bed. “I understand you’re pissed I didn’t make your party, but parties aren’t my scene. Still, it was nice of you to invite me.”
“I didn’t invite you.” Will must have. She snatched up her robe from a chair next to the bed and shoved her arms into the sleeves.
Jake’s eyes slid over her. “Is it too late to change my mind about the bacon grease?”
She remembered what Kissy had said about the cool, blond bitch-goddess. She crossed her arms over her breasts and tried to look the part. “What do you want?”
“I’ve got a business deal for you, but you don’t seem to be in the mood to talk.” He rose and stretched. “We can discuss it in the morning while you fix me breakfast.”
“What kind of business deal?”
“In the morning. Where do you want me to sleep?”
“On a park bench.”
He sat back on her bed. “Thanks, this’ll be just fine. Nice, firm mattress.”
She gave him her coldest stare and tried to figure out how to handle this. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t ignore his comment about a business deal, and he obviously wasn’t saying any more tonight. “Take the room at the end of the hall,” she snapped. “The bed’s too short for you and the mattress is lumpy, but if you bang on the wall, the rats will hardly bother you.”
“Are you sure you’re not going to be lonesome in here by yourself?”
“Oh no. I’m looking forward to sleeping alone for a change.”
His eyes narrowed. “Sorry to spoil your track record.”
She smiled. “It’s okay. A girl needs a little beauty rest now and then.”
That shut him up, and he left her alone.
She stomped into the bathroom and turned on the water to wash her face. What kind of business deal did he have in mind? Was it possible he wanted her to represent him? The idea made her queasy. Jake Koranda’s name on her client roster would give her instant credibility. Just like that, all her worries about the future of her agency would disappear.
She brought herself back to reality. An established superstar would hardly turn himself over to new management just because that new management happened to be an old lover. Unless he felt guilty and wanted to make it up to her.
Highly unlikely. She rinsed her face and reached for a hand towel. Still…if she could land Jake, she’d have taken a giant step toward making Fleur Savagar and Associates the gold standard for celebrity management.
The bravest, the fastest, the strongest…
She awakened late the next morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee drifting up from the kitchen. She pulled on her oldest pair of athletic gray warm-ups and fastened her hair into a ponytail. When she reached the kitch
en, she found Jake sitting at the harvest table, his legs stretched in front of him as he drank a cup of coffee. She went to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of orange juice. She had to play this just right. “I’ll make the toast if you make the eggs,” she said.
“Are you sure you can handle the responsibility? As I remember, cooking isn’t your strong point.”
“Which is why you’re making the eggs.” She pulled out a carton and set it on the counter for him along with a stainless steel bowl. Then she grabbed a grapefruit, dropped it on the cutting board, and severed it with one sharp thwack.
“Careful there.”
“I’m practicing for bigger and better things.” She gestured toward a bottom drawer. “If Bird Dog needs an apron, he can find one in there. Ignore the pink ruffle.”
“You’re all heart.”
Neither of them spoke again until they were settled across from each other at the harvest table. She could barely swallow her toast. In the clear light of a new day, the notion that he might sign with her seemed even more far-fetched, but she had to know for sure. She took a sip of coffee. “Don’t you have an incredibly expensive house somewhere in the Village?”
“Yeah, but too many people bother me there, so I sometimes disappear. That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Can we work something out with your attic?”
“My attic?”
