Chapter Fourteen #2
He runs his hands through his hair, mussing it out of its usual perfection, as if he doesn’t know what to do with me. “Look, you don’t have to drink it. Just please stop badmouthing it.”
Here’s where most people would agree and move on.
But I see an opportunity. “I’ll make a deal with you: You convince Kristina that I have a headache and have to leave this date early, which could very well be true because aspartame gives people headaches”—Andrew sighs—“and I promise I won’t talk shit about Poppy Cancer for the rest of my time on the show. ”
Andrew looks back over at Bill. “You want out of this date that bad? It hasn’t even been thirty minutes.” He looks at me curiously. “Did you even give the guy a chance?”
I look at him in shock. “First of all, you are the last person I want dating advice from. And secondly, Bill and I are complete opposites! We’re even less compatible than you and me!”
Andrew raises his eyebrows and then his gaze sweeps over me like he’s about to argue but can’t. I immediately put my hands on my hips. “Can you get me out of here or what?”
“Fine. But if I catch you slandering any of the sponsors, I’ll make sure the producers send you on another date with him,” he says, his eyes roving over my face. “Maybe to a gun range? Or a pig roast?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
He narrows his eyes back at me. “Try me.”
I back down from our staring contest first, because the intensity in his eyes is making my stomach do weird things. “Fine. I won’t talk shit about the sponsors . . . on camera.”
“Fine. I’ll cover for you on your date.”
I put my hand out to shake his. When he grasps it, I have immediate regrets. If the way he looks at me is enough to cause my stomach to flutter, then I should’ve guessed the electricity of our touch would be even more overwhelming.
He must feel it too because when I try to take my hand back, he doesn’t let go. He just looks at me with that same damn challenging glint in his eyes as if he’s daring me.
It’s completely unnerving. I’ve never wanted to pull someone closer and push them away at the same time.
But I also refuse to let him know the effect he has on me.
So instead, I smile sweetly at him. “Pleasure doing business with you. Be sure to tell Bill it’s not me, it’s him. ” And then I pull my hand away.
“And they believed you? But you suck at acting.” Cassie says in bewilderment when I call her on my burner phone twenty minutes later.
“I don’t think Kristina really bought the headache thing, but Andrew talked her into letting me go to bed early anyway.” I close the curtains in my designated room in the mansion because going to bed sounds perfect right about now. “It’s really the least Andrew could do.”
“I can’t believe he’s censoring your health rants,” Cassie says. “That’s my favorite part of the workday.”
I flop down on the fancy four-poster bed as an errant thought escapes my mouth. “Have you ever thought forearms are sexy?”
“Where did that come from?” Cassie asks.
“Nowhere!” I say too quickly.
Luckily, she doesn’t press for details. “Of course I have. There’s a reason forearm porn is a thing.” I snort in disbelief, then hear the smile in her voice when she says, “I’m constantly walking around looking at men with long sleeves and wondering what they’re packing under there.”
I laugh but admit, “There is something strangely alluring to hidden muscles. It’s like discovering a new organelle under a microscope.”
“Ohmigod yes!” Cassie agrees. Then she casually circles back. “So, there isn’t anyone you’re interested in?”
I sigh. “Please don’t get your hopes up, Cass. You know that’s not what I’m here for. Especially when I’m forced to go on dates with meat-loving, rifle-toting cowboys who consider themselves conservationists.”
“Well . . .” Cassie says quietly.
“Well what?”
“It’s just that hunters do play a part in conservation too. I think they realized a long time ago that if they don’t protect the animals, they won’t have anything left to hunt.”
“Are you defending Cowboy Bill?”
“No, I’m just saying . . .” She pauses, then says gently, “You know I love you, Grace, but you tend to make a decision about someone without really giving them a chance to show you more than one side.”
I consider this. Then I remember my conversation with Madison and how I made a snap decision based on her looks but she ended up blowing my expectations out of the water.
“I guess, maybe, sometimes, I may be a bit judgmental. I’ll add that to the growing list of things I need to work on.
But I know I’m spot-on about Beth Anne. Even you wouldn’t be able to find anything redeeming about her—”
But Cassie cuts me off, squealing, “Oh my gosh, I almost forgot! You have almost fifteen thousand followers now!”
“How? Why?”
“Whatever Matt is doing, I guess. Plus, Eliza and Alec set up a crowdfunding page, and Matt links it to all your posts. We’ve already made three thousand dollars and the show hasn’t even aired yet!”
“Wow, really? That’s amazing.” I’m quiet for a moment. “Well, shit. I guess I really can’t quit now.”
Cassie laughs. “I know you don’t want to be there, but we’re all so appreciative of what you’re doing. Gregory even told the board about it, and they ate it up, just like he thought they would.”
I sigh because I know what this means—the infuriating lawyers, intimidating producers, and appalling cowboys don’t matter—because our plan is actually working.
Fuck.
This means I have to try even harder to stay here.