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“Thank you, Megan,” he said to his phone. Megan’s name and phone number promptly replaced the video. God, he’d love to call her now and thank her for coming out of her comfort zone for the fundraiser. But people who lived in the real world had jobs, and she wouldn’t appreciate him interrupting hers. He clicked off the phone app and went back to the video.
He listened to his own name on her lips. He liked it. And he liked the braid she had today. He liked the way she gave her listeners clear instructions so that she was the one controlling the moment instead of being a victim to it.
Did she know how good she was at this? Was it her job training that made her like this, or was she naturally camera-ready? Alessandro would say the latter. Her brother had certainly slid into the celebrity world with ease. Like Yasmin said: maybe if he’d had a manager, none of the bad stuff would have happened.
He checked his texts and found several from Etta, Susie, and Jaelyn.Ticket sales have doubled!Etta said.Donations are way up thanks to your amazing friend!Susie gushed.How come all anyone wants to talk about today is your friend rather than you?Jaelyn said, adding a smiley face.
That was fine with Alessandro—if Megan could handle it. And it looked like she could. His mentions were through the roof as well, always connected to the fundraiser. Etta reported that two news channels had already contacted her for an interview. He didn’t even have to have Yasmin twist arms to get him on the shows. Megan had done that with one smile and a quick hashtag.
Speaking of Yasmin. It was eight o’clock in California. Time enough to be calling her.
“Well,” she said when she picked up, “your friend sure has been busy.”
“I know.” Alessandro felt an unearned surge of pride.
“I thought you said she didn’t like being in the public eye.”
“That’s what she told me,” he said. “But I guess when she did not have any choice, she ran with it.”
“Is this the coffee shop where you used to work?”
“Uh-huh.”
“She even gotthemmore publicity. Quite a neat little package. You sure she’s not looking for management?”
“I do not think so.”
But Alessandro was beginning to wonder. He looked at the picture again. She’d controlled the room so well. Maybe she hadn’t been thinking of her family when she’d rejected him yesterday. Maybe she’d just… rejected him.
He’d spent a lot of his life around people who used him for their own purposes. In LA, even the most warmhearted, sincere people in the business would give him a good two or three seconds of stare while they sized up what he might do for them. He’d learned to navigate it the way he’d learned to accept the dismissive waves from casting directors at auditions.
But in Boston, for a brief few hours, he’d felt safe from all that. People either liked him or didn’t. He couldn’t do much for them except give their social media a brief boost. Roman, Susie, and the others had liked him before he became famous. He didn’t have to prove anything to them.
Megan had been like them. She’d jumped in to helphimwithout any thought of what he could do for her. In fact, she’d helped him at the expense of her own comfort.
That was what he’d thought. But here she was, loving the spotlight. Managing to sell her coffee shop, her favorite clothing store, and the Studio, all in one speech.
So maybe those big eyes and the flush on her cheeks when he’d touched her fingers had been an act. A damn good one. “Yeah, maybe,” he said to Yasmin, getting off the bed and stalking over to the bathroom. He shouldn’t be disappointed. His chest shouldn’t feel like it was caving in. This wasn’t a rejection like all the others. Like his parents. He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Help for the fundraiser? He didn’t have to see her again.
And now he didn’t want to.
♦
Chapter 8
Megan called Etta at lunchtime and got an ecstatic tribute to the new website and social media pages. “Make that website live immediately!” Etta yelled into the phone. “It’s so freaking gorgeous! Thanks, Megan!”
Then by four o’clock came the email that told her the new website and social media pages, along with her video that morning, had led to a completely sold-out room for the event. And more donations were coming in all the time. “We have a waiting list!” Susie enthused. “We’veneverhad a waiting list!”
Megan focused as hard as she could on her own work, but at five o’clock she gave up and made another phone call.
“Hey!” her sister-in-law, Ellen, said, flipping them to a video call.
“Hey.” Thank God. Ellen’s “hey” had sounded welcoming, not furious, and her smile was relaxed, not hiding anything. Kane hadn’t thrown Megan to the wolves… or to his wife. “You’re home already?” Megan recognized the tricked-out kitchen of Kane and Ellen’s imposing house in Chestnut Hill.
“I only work till four these days, unless it’s one of our big events. What’s up? Has Cat given you more instructions for Sunday?”
Megan laughed. “No, not yet. I’m calling to ask a favor.”
