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“The girl is a genius,” Roger says.
“Hand that over,” Simon demands, wagging his fingers at me.
I give him the phone, blown away by Scarlett’s video. That she would actually make something about us, claiming that we’re together, before she even signed the damn paperwork.
I’m impressed.
“She posted this almost two hours ago,” Simon says, his gaze glued to Roger’s phone screen. “This is good.”
“Fucking great is what it is. This girl is a PR department’s every wet dream.” Roger is beaming from ear to ear. “Where is she? We need to celebrate. I brought champagne.”
He holds up a bottle of very expensive champagne.
“She’s late,” I say, hating how the nerves chew at my gut.
“She’ll be here any second,” Simon adds, sending me a look I can’t read while handing the phone over to Roger. “She made a goddamn video about getting ready to see you, Tate. Stop worrying.”
“Worrying? I have nothing to worry about. Scarlett is my girlfriend.” I grin at Simon, who grins at Roger.
The grin fades from Roger’s face, and he makes his way over so he’s standing directly in front of me, his gaze assessing. “You better not fuck this up, kid. I know you two are coming together under a binding agreement, and while I can tell she’s fully on board and ready to execute her duties, I need to know that you’re on board too.”
This is ironic, isn’t it? I practically had to beg and plead with Scarlett to get her to even agree to this in the first place, and she makes one fucking video that makes me look bad in front of Roger. I’m not pissed at her. I just find it interesting that I’m always the bad guy in this scenario.
There’s another knock on the door, and this time, there’s a pause before Steffi, Simon’s assistant/girlfriend, is peeking her head around it, a serene smile on her face. “Scarlett Lancaster and her lawyer are here.”
“Send them in.” Simon waves a hand at her, and she shuts the door with a loud slam. “Why didn’t she just call me?” This last bit he mutters under his breath.
Nerves jump in my stomach, making it hard to fucking breathe, but I put on a bright smile and stand taller at my spot in front of the window. The double doors swing back open, and in walks Scarlett wearing a black dress that looks more like an oversize men’s blazer, followed by an uptight middle-aged guy in a three-piece navy suit.
The lawyer.
“Scarlett.” Simon rises to his feet and rounds his desk, making his way straight for my fake girl. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you in person.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” Her voice washes over me, making me feel itchy and hot, and I tug at the collar of my black shirt, unsure how to approach her or what I should say.
This girl—woman—I wish I knew what made her tick. What exactly is going on in that head of hers? I don’t have a clue, but I’d love to figure her out.
Maybe spending time with her for the next six weeks will help.
“Please, call me Simon.” He hugs her. Wraps her up in his thick arms and gives her a squeeze, and I swear to God, I sort of want to pop his head off his body, which is weird because I’m not the jealous type.
Then I remember how I reacted to Jess cheating on me in the past and retract that statement from my thoughts fairly quickly.
“And of course, you remember Tate.” The amusement in Simon’s voice as he introduces my girlfriend to me like we’re strangers makes me want to sock him in the face.
Then I remember that violence gets you nowhere but an assault charge and possible jail time, and I retract that feeling as well.
“Definitely.” Scarlett smiles at me, and that’s when I see it. The nervousness flashing in her gaze. It matches mine. “How are you?”
I say nothing in greeting. Just reach for her hand and pull her into me, sliding my arms around her waist and giving her a quick hug, breathing in her delectable scent, noting how soft she is. She hugs me in return, and I swear to God, I can feel her trembling.
“Scarlett Lancaster, you are a mastermind,” Roger announces as he approaches us from behind.
Extracting herself from me, she whips her head in his direction, her brows drawing together in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Roger Hammersmith, Irresistible Records.” He shoves his hand out toward her, and she has no other choice but to shake it. “You, my darling, are a perfect fit with the Irresistible team.”
