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King’s eyes went glassy as he watched Zoe chew on her fist while I held her. “How the hell do you mourn someone you don’t even know anymore? Or never even knew in the first place?”
So many platitudes died on my tongue.She was the mother of your child. Of course you felt…something for her, even now. Who was I to tell him how he should feel?
“I don’t know, King. There’s no script for something like this. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with how you’re feeling—however you’re feeling.”
He nodded tightly.
I gave him an encouraging look and changed the subject. Because, feelings. “Have her parents crawled out of the woodwork yet?”
“No, not a word.” King shrugged as his face went blank. He turned back to the sink and my cell rang. I passed Zoe over to him and looked at the screen where Jeff’s name was lit up.
“Hey, man. What’s going on?”
“Just wanted to give you an update on your schedule if you have a minute, and um, there’s a little issue that I don’t know if you’re aware of.”
The hesitancy in Jeff’s voice made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Jeff was a go with the flow, easygoing guy. It made him the best assistant, so his tentativeness now was definitely out of character. “Screw the schedule. What’s the little issue?”
“It’s nothing too important, but apparently a pap caught you and Sophia on the beach this morning. The pictures are PG, but the innuendo in the copy is not. I had no idea you’d met Sophia.”
Who the hell was Sophia? It took me a second to figure out what Jeff was saying.
Then it clicked.
The house-sitter/dog walker Jeff had hired, since I’d needed him on set with me in New Zealand. The woman with all the hair and attitude who’d tackled me on the beach this morning. “What kind of pictures could they have gotten from this morning?”
I clicked over to speaker phone and searched for the pics. It wasn’t hard. They were everywhere.The Babbler,Off the Record, and even our local affiliates had posted them. Sophia walking Pongo. Me holding the leash with her next to Pongo. And the last picture, her on top of me looking all kinds of gorgeous with her wild hair and tender expression. Meanwhile I looked pissed, per usual.
“I don’t know what kinda photoshop magic they performed, but that is not what happened.” I quickly outlined Jeff on what he’d missed out on after we’d parted at the airport.
“She thought I was the client? Hilarious.” Jeff laughed then paused. “Uh, now that I think of it, I’m not sure if I actually got around to telling her. Everything was so chaotic before we left. I know she signed the NDA—I checked that when I got the alert about the pics. But I might’ve forgotten to fill her in on all the details before we left.”
“Eh, as long as she signed the NDA, I don’t care. It’s not like the gossip rags actually care about the truth.” If I had a dollar for every starlet I’d been rumored to date, I wouldn’t need a career. Vultures. “What’s the update on my schedule?”
Jeff filled me in on a few date changes, then before I ended the call he said, “Too bad you and Sophia weren’t actually a thing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that it might’ve been a good distraction for the media. I know they’re hounding you guys right now, and who doesn’t love a love story? It might’ve taken some pressure off King.”
My eyes turned to where my brother stood at the sink, smiling sadly as Zoe babbled up at him in his arms.
I ducked into the living room and switched Jeff off of speaker phone. “I need you to get me a copy of Sophia’s background check and her NDA and then set up a meeting with her tomorrow at my place. I think you’ve stumbled onto a fantastic idea.”
Chapter Three
Sophia
Why hadn’t I read this more closely before I’d signed it months ago?
I stared at the NDA on my table in horror. At the time, I’d thought it was ridiculous. I was just there to walk a dog and water some plants. I didn’t even see anyone when I was with Pongo.
But technically, I’d already violated the agreement with the little bit I’d told Molly about walking Pongo. When I signed the contract, I’d agreed to ‘never discuss, in either person, writing, or any other form of communication, anything that happened at the address or with the owner’s property, which technically included his dog, Pongo.
At least no one had publicly linked me to the Roman Grier pictures. My coworkers had given me a few weird looks, but I was pretty sure that was more due to my spacey behavior than anything else. Jen had had to wave her hand in front of my face to finally get my attention earlier today. I’d been in my own little world. I couldn’t focus on anything.
Maybe if I buried my head in the sand, this would all blow over. No one would tag me on social media, and I could forget the day I embarrassed myself, found out I’d broken an NDA, and was almost linked with a fricking movie star.
My cell phone buzzed on the table.
