EIGHT
“GREG HATFIELD, as I live and breathe!” she exclaimed, opening her arms wide as she strode into the suite’s living room. “I trust you found everything you need?”
He came to do the Hollywood double kiss. “All I need is you.”
“Aww, you’re a sweetheart.” Somehow Zairn’s proclamation of the same also felt more sincere. Of course his was more about love and Hatfield’s was all about the money. “Thank you. Should we…”
She gestured at the couch and they sat.
Was this what the First Lady felt like? Shuttling people this way and that. Playing hostess had become second nature. In the club, in the boardroom, integrating into Zairn’s life had been so seamless that she almost hadn’t noticed it was happening. Now it was just… life.
When he said things belonged to her, he meant it. In fact, he’d laid things directly in her path, or had others do it, which often forced her to act. His life was hers, their symbiosis was—okay, so she wasn’t getting into that team building, cult crap.
“Zairn’s still in New York?” Hatfield asked.
“Yes, you don’t have to worry about him pouncing on us unexpectedly.”
That was a joke, it was a joke. Justifying it felt necessary even though Zairn wasn’t in the room. He’d never doubt her loyalty but maybe had lingering trauma from her friendship with Hatfield during the documentary.
“You know I remember meeting him the first time,” he said, retrieving paperwork and a Dyce device. “Do you remember that day?”
“In Boston, yeah, I remember. The eyelashes.” The familiarity of his expression sparked some nostalgia in her too. “That was more than a year ago.”
Thinking about it now, she’d known Greg Hatfield almost as long as she’d known Zairn.
“We’ve come a long way since then,” he said. “I never did ask why the Kesley thing pissed him off so much. He hated me from the minute I walked in.”
“That was nothing to do with Kesley,” she explained. “And everything to do with you and I bonding over eyelashes.”
Confusion touched his brow. Maybe he didn’t remember Astrid’s words that day or he didn’t understand why them bonding would piss off Zairn.
“The eyelashes, yeah.”
“Though, for future reference, I know from experience that he’s not a fan of being set up on dates. Tried it myself and woo, yeah, he wasn’t that receptive.”
“You set your fiancé up on a date?”
A slow shallow nod followed. “With his ex-girlfriend, yeah.”
“Why would you…?” As he trailed off, he looked deeper. “How come you never wrote a book?”
“There’s still time,” she declared to the ether and laughed. “The documentary wasn’t enough? To be honest, I haven’t had a lot of time, what with the ambassador thing and Lola’s Liberty—did you hear we’re part funding a joint venture with Lighting Darkness and Huddle Hope.”
“I had heard about that. I’d love to know more though.”
That was kind of his job, always to know more.
“It always fascinates me how much interest there is.”
“In your day-to-day life? You’re a wonder, Rox. Living the dream.”
As Reeve Crosby told her.
“ It’s about the man, genius. ” Toria’s words were apt, though they were said in a slightly different context. Somehow, she doubted they’d be well received by the director.
“What do we need to get through today?”
“I have the schedule for you,” he said, retrieving a folder from his binder to hand it over. “And there’s a presentation of the show’s artwork, the soundtrack, you’ll love it.”
Wow, gawking at the paper, all she saw were names and dates, lists of this and that, her life in black and white for the next… however long this took.
“Is everything set up?”
“Just about. We’re making a few personnel changes, breaking new people in.”
Her eyes rose from the paper to meet his. “I don’t know if I like new people. Has Ballard vetted them? Z isn’t wild about strangers.”
His slight snicker intrigued. “I think you’ll be okay with these additions. They’re on their way now.”
Shock gaped. “Today? I have to meet them today? I have dinner plans.”
“You’re not an easy person to get face time with, Rox.
I have to make the most of it while I have you.
It won’t take long. If you really don’t want to do it today, we can do it another time, but it has to be soon.
Tomorrow? Friday? If I don’t make a date with you now, your next opening is probably Christmas. ”
“Oh, sorry, I have plans for Christmas too.”
“Rox—”
“It’s fine,” she said, taking a breath. “I’ll meet them, just, if I don’t like them, they don’t get over the threshold.”
Figuratively, not literally, kind of hard to meet someone if they didn’t come in the room.
Zairn would just love this, learning she was going to be alone with new people.
After her meeting with Reeve, her love’s heart rate may not have returned to normal yet.
And they were in the suite, alone, with her security on the wrong side of the front door.
She could invite security in… Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Stephen that day, he was her main LA guy. Hmm, he’d been pretty scarce of late.
“Zairn approves.”
Hatfield’s response interrupted her pondering. Did he just say…?
“Zairn a—oh, he approves? Does he? My Zairn? The man I talk to fifty times a day? The only man on planet earth—” and all other planets “—allowed inside my beautiful body? The man who failed to mention new people? Maybe he isn’t as fond of being inside me as I thought.”
Yes, facetious, what else could she do while silencing an internal growl?
Keeping secrets? Keeping secrets? What was her Casanova thinking with so many secrets these days?
And, huh, she went on alert. If there were surprises now, what would happen at the wedding?
One secret was enough for such a big day.
Were there others she wasn’t in on? Shame she couldn’t corner her guy and fuck the truth out of him.
“Uh… I don’t know about that,” Greg said. “We, uh, thought you might be happy.”
Happy? Now she was suspicious. “I can’t even say I’ll only be happy if a super-hot, billionaire, fuck machine walks through that door because I already have one of those. Hiding in New York. Hmm. He can’t hide forever.”
“If you want me to cancel—”
“No, I’m intrigued now,” she said with a cleansing breath, correcting her posture and shaking her hair down her back. “So schedule, new people, what else?”
“Your requirements—”
“Those should already be in the contract. Dunlap’s looked it over. I’ve been assured it’s all spelled out.”
According to her guy, but he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming these days. Maybe she should hide something from him, surprise him, see how he liked it.
“He has.”
“Rules are: no one in our New York pad, and I have full editing rights. I don’t want things twisted around. If I say no, it’s a no.”
“That was the only way you would sign the deal.”
“This is my life, Greg. My life and the lives of people I care about. If something happens and I say out, everything stops, immediately.”
“We would never disrespect you or Zairn.”
“He would never allow you, or anyone, to disrespect me. This is an odd situation and not one I thought I’d ever…
It’s important for the brand, and I like people liking the brand.
It’s what I do to pull my weight ‘cause Zairn does most of the heavy lifting with the businessy stuff. He’s the bacon bringer. ”
“What are you talking about? You’ve carried the team. Do you have any idea how popular you are? There’s a reason the media and fans call you the ‘Stream Queen,’ we’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s the problem when you marry for love, Greg.
You’re left carrying the weight of your mooching partner.
” This guy was out of practice, Roxie practice, because he didn’t relax until she laughed.
“I’m kidding, geez. I’m popular because Zairn’s popular and I get to ride him every night.
” When they were in the same state. “I’m the sex proxy for the fans… I talk about it more than he does.”
“Okay, which gives me a perfect segue to remind you, we will have two edits.”
“Two, yes,” she said with a sure single nod. She remembered why the… Okay, she didn’t remember. “Why are there two?”
“One goes out on the network and the other is behind a paywall for members on the Crimson site.”
“Right, yes,” she said. “For my Delights.”
“Yes, and anyone else who pays to join the Delights or the Crimsettes.”
“I like that we’re including our faithful fans, but charging them extra just to see—”
“It’s not about the money,” he said. “The lawyers were clear this is a requirement. Not to line pockets but to ensure—”
“A mature audience, right.” She remembered.
“For the naughty bits. Credit card required. That’s right.
That’s right.” Crossing her legs toward him, she locked her fingers around her knee to lean in.
“Do Z and I have to have sex with the camera crew standing right there or can we set up a tripod?” Hmm…
“I suppose there’s a joke in there about Z providing his own, but I’m sulking with him right now, so no bueno. ”
Just since the new people thing. Her lover didn’t know she was sulking, but he didn’t have to for it to be effective.
She’d hold her breath a while and probably be over it by the next time they talked.
Especially since he had a habit of talking her in, over, under, out whatever her point was in any call…
Though she couldn’t deny her own proclivity for tangents.
Not that they’d be engaging in that because, right, her phone was dead. Sigh.
“I know you like to play,” Hatfield said, “but we have to be careful.”
“Relax! I get it. Bad language, sexy talk, maybe the occasional make-out session. We don’t have a lot of violence in our lives, right now, I can’t make any guarantee about the future.
Funny though that people balk more at the sight of nipples than someone getting their head blown off, but, hey, we live in New York, anything could happen.
” She gasped. “Maybe Toria could fall in love with a mugger or something. Imagine! Have a good day at work, dear! Bring me back a stranger’s Rolex! ”
He just smirked. “You’ll have a roving camera crew follow you, kind of like we did with the documentary. There will be some setups—”
“Unlike the documentary…” Her chin rose until her eyes met the ceiling. “Didn’t you say that day in Boston that reality TV wasn’t the essence we were going for?”
“Yeah, and your USP is your authenticity. You’re the woman’s woman.”
“The poor woman’s woman. Formerly.”
It was nice that he still enjoyed her after all this time. “When I say setups, we’re not talking straight lies. I mean people popping in or we’ll run an event. Your gift is drama.”
“Comedy and tragedy, don’t they make the world go round?”
“No, that would be sex and money. And you have both.”
A knock at the suite door switched their focus.
“Ah, is that our esteemed new people?” she asked. “Producers you said, right?”
“They’re just getting started.”
“So they’re new new people. Okay. This should be interesting. I don’t mind green… though I’m more used to the paper variety.”
The butler entered first.
“I told him just to bring them in when they arrived.”
“Sure,” she said, standing up in time with Hatfield, straightening her skirt. “And who would—”
“Roxie!”
She knew that voice. Her attention leaped up to the woman rushing toward her. “Bambi, honey!”
The woman grabbed her into a hug and squeezed her tight. The butler was already on his way out, but there was Struan, Bambi’s guy, coming toward them.
Okay, so they weren’t so new new after all.