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I bob my head in the affirmative. “It’s the most popular reality series to date, and honestly, being on this show is not only a benefit to the woman chosen, but the men, too.”
“But the men are all superstars in their own right!!”
“Yes,” I concede. “But I wasn’t kidding about the advertising. It will boost my sales significantly, according to my PR manager.”
Stella’s pretty, russet eyes enlarge.
“It’s a public relations dream for us boys, and it sounds like you’re getting something out of it, too,” I conclude. “A win-win for everyone involved.”
“I never thought of it like that.”
I grin easily. “The studios know what they’re doing, Heartbreaker. That’s why they make the big bucks.”
Understanding colors her face, and she sinks back to fold her arms over her chest, and I find myself noticing how full herbreasts are for the first time. For such a lithe figure, she has great curves.
“I see,” she murmurs.
My brow creases, her tone confusing me. Are we on the same page? “Does that upset you?”
She shrugs and says nothing, leaving me more perplexed.
“Why are you mad?” I ask, sincerely confused.
“I’m not mad.”
“You look mad.”
She exhales and sits forward. “Well, what if I really do fall in love with you?” she asks sullenly, her dark eyes catching hints of fiery red in the Mexican sunshine. “That’s not fair to me, is it?”
The smirk on my face fades, and I cock my head to the side. The question fully takes me aback. “I…” I clear my throat. “I mean?—”
Dammit. Why are the beautiful ones always so needy?
Her laughter floods the little cantina, forcing all eyes onto us, and suddenly, my cheeks are the same shade as hers.
“Wow,” I growl. “Okay, you got me.”
Clapping her hands and squealing hysterically, Stella sits forward, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “You’re not getting Stockholm Syndrome on me, now, are you, Gabe? I don’t think I can handle it.”
I throw a bottle cap across the table at her, and a snicker falls out of my mouth.
It’s going to be fun working with her, but I really do hope she doesn’t get too attached. It would be a shame to break the Heartbreaker’s heart, after all. But it might be good for ratings.
I can’t wait to get started.
CHAPTER 5
Bennet
There hasn’t been a time in my life when there wasn’t a camera in my face. Between the paparazzi, reporters, and marketing teams, someone is always recording my every move.
I learned quickly not to make missteps, lest they end up in the tabloids or plastered online for me to hear about at boarding school for the next three news cycles—poor orphaned Bennet. The boy billionaire never quite gets it right.
I was in my mid-teens by the time I’d fully hardened myself to the constant attention. So this “reality” program doesn’t faze me the same way it might my counterparts, even with the two actors in our little pod.
Stella clearly doesn’t have the Hollywood experience that Forrest possesses, but even the Oscar nominee appears frazzled by the incessant attention. Gabriel is relishing it, apparently. I am tolerating it, even though we haven’t really started filming yet.
Even the well-seasoned Forrest is getting more irritated by the second, his scowl deepening as he sidesteps yet another cameraman with a handheld device.
