Chapter 7
Ronan
“Ronan!” Emalyn’s eyes light up in surprise as I’m led into a large room by someone’s assistant. One who keeps finding any reason to touch my arm, despite my gentle rejections. Emalyn’s eyes settle on the touch.
“Thank you, Jerome.” She shoots him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Yes, Emmy girl, run him off for me. Throw your shoe. Actually, no that’d make me jealous.
“Sandra said I’m supposed to escort him to hair and makeup.” Jerome says, popping a hip. Emalyn just scoffs and gestures to me with her hand.
“Hair and makeup? Look at him, Jerome. Can’t improve that much.” She says incredulously. Seeming to realize what just came out of her mouth, she stammers out, “You know what, I’ll take him.”
I’m grinning like a loon as she drags me around the set toward the dressing room. I let her. I love feisty Emmy.
“Can’t improve? Careful there, Emalyn. Almost sounds like you think I'm attractive.” I tease.
Her eyes drag down my body before she ducks her head.
Wait… Did she just check me out? My heart skips a beat.
She did. Right? I don’t think that’s happened before.
I mean, she’s given me countless advice on my clothes and seen me shirtless a dozen times but… she seems affected this time.
I watch her face as she avoids my gaze. There’s a slight blush across her nose and the vein in her neck jumps.
I shake my head. No, I don’t need to get my hopes up.
It’s been years. I’ve made my feelings clear, and if she felt the same she would’ve said something by now.
If it’s not me, maybe she’s getting nervous about the shoot.
Not that she hasn’t been the lead photographer for so many photo shoots of this scale— and even bigger ones.
My hand moves without my permission, gently capturing her wrist. Her eyes find mine as my thumb draws soft circles there.
“You okay?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat. Her floral perfume hits my nose like a shock to my system. Better than any drug. She inhales sharply.
“I-I’m good.”
My eyes flick between hers. I don’t know what I'm searching for really.
What sign there might be that she finally feels the same way.
Her brown eyes are wide as she stares back at me.
I open my mouth to ask her if she feels even a sliver of what I do, but the door opens and a team of people fill the room.
They immediately begin to bustle around us.
One starts pinning my hair up and plugging in some hair tools.
When someone bumps my arm to drape a cape around me, Emalyn pulls her wrist from my hand.
I watch as she turns and rushes out of the room.
My phone rings as they’re using some sort of brush to put powder stuff on my face. I splutter when they put too much near my nose and mouth.
“Sorry.” She grimaces. I wave her off gently and answer my phone that lights up the name Ford Branson. My agent.
“Hello?”
“Ronan! I have some news for you. It’ll be really great pushing this thing as far as it can go.” He says enthusiastically.
“Okay, what is it?”
“I’ve been in touch with Vanessa’s agent. We have a deal in the works right now for a PR relationship.” He begins explaining but I'm already shaking my head.
“No. Not for me. You know that.” I sigh.
“I know, I know. If it’s not Emalyn Espinosa you don’t want to hear it.
Listen, I wouldn’t push this if it couldn’t be great for your goals.
What kind of a gent would I be if I didn’t bring every great deal to you, huh?
” Ford continues, not waiting for me to answer, “The more this campaign makes, the more the company makes. The more the company makes, the more they’ll donate to your foundation.
More kids get to go to college and all that ok?
So when you’re at the shoot today, be nice.
Get to know her. That’s all I’m asking, okay? ”
“I’m always nice. No promises with this deal though.” I grumble as the lady gestures for me to stand. She waves her hand in a motion I don’t understand. I have to pull the phone away from my ear.
“What?”
“Shirt and shorts off. Underwear only please.” She whispers and holds up something that looks like a bigger version of what they put on my face and a small tube of oil. I do as she says, ignoring the small squeak she makes.
“Ronan? I’m telling you, please don't do anything to embarrass her ok? They’re calling her America’s Sweetheart. If you don’t want to do this, tell me before we go public with it.” Ford stresses each word.
“Don’t worry about me, Branson.” I say using his last name. Makes the guy feel like a part of the club. I hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.
“Alright, alright. I never do, Ronan. Take care.” He says and ends the call.
Once I’m oiled up and wearing the brand rep underwear, I’m led out to the large room that had more staff than a hockey team. A tall blonde woman stands in front of the plain white backdrop, wearing the women’s matching set of underwear similar to mine.
“Over here please, Mr. Grady.” Jerome says, more professional now. I kick off the slippers and step into the frame.
“Hi, I’m Vanessa.” She says, flashing a white smile and extending her hand.
“Ronan.” I give her a nod and shake her hand. Something about her reminds me of Alli. Maybe it’s the blonde hair, or the eager friendliness about her.
“What sport?”
“Soccer.” She nods. “I don’t need to ask you, though. My gran is a big fan.”
“Of hockey?” I smile. I love grandmas. They hand out love so easily.
“No, of you. Your foundation, especially. The work you and your team do is amazing.” She twists her fingers like she’s nervous as she adds, “I am actually one of the Sandy Scholarship recipients. I only went to college for two years before getting into the league. To be working with you on this… it’s a dream come true. ”