I SAT BACK IN my chair staring at the sheet of paper with the show’s agenda, more specifically her name. My finger traced over the black ink—Tinley Atkinson. Now, more than ever, I believed in fate. As the hair and makeup team buzzed around me, I considered the fact that Tinley was sitting in one of the three guest suites just down the hall.
I thought back to my previous encounters with Tinley. I wondered if she was dating that Avalon executive—the guy she’d left with the night of Ella Connolly’s welcoming party.
If she was single, today, I’d make my move.
Stacy warmed up the audience with a basic Q&A session giving away a few prizes. I watched on the monitor from backstage, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tinley before the show.
“Matthew, as you requested, your mug will have Lavazza Classico medium roast,” Gil, the show’s producer, said grasping my shoulder.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“She’s the best,” he added, folding his arms over his chest.
I stole another glance down the hallway that led to the guest suites. The crowd erupted at Stacy’s mention of my name.
Shaking his head, Gil huffed a laugh. “They love you, man. Today’s show will be one for the record books.”
“Yes, they do,” I reaffirmed, feeling confident and perhaps a bit cocky. Why not? I was a ratings ploy for him, and I had my own reasons for agreeing to do the show.
“Thanks for being here,” Gil said, tapping his phone screen to life.
“Thanks for having me.”
Nodding, he placed his phone to his ear and then strode up towards the control room. The monitor switched to local news for a weather report. More rain. This spring weather was depressing. I needed a vacation—sun, sand, and surf.
“Doesn’t look like this rain will let up anytime soon, keep those umbrellas handy.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, my eyes flashed to the left, and I stopped listening.
Tinley.
Fuck. She was insanely beautiful. She stopped midstride her blue eyes connecting with mine. A small smile played across her pink lips. “Matthew Barber, we meet again.” She laughed under her breath and I loved how her blue eyes twinkled when she said my name.
With my hands shoved into my pockets, I strode towards her. The black dress she had on fit her like a glove. It was cut so that one of her shoulders was exposed, and my fingers itched to feel her skin.
She reached up her fingers adjusting the waves of her ponytail. “Tinley Atkinson, if I didn’t know better I’d say that you were stalking me,” I said, surprised, when she stiffened, her hands pausing for a moment.
“You wish that I was stalking you.” She turned away from me, taking up her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Help a girl out, be a dear and zip me up.”
My mind went into overdrive at the sight of her sun-kissed skin exposed just above her lace bra. I wondered what Tinley would look like spread beneath me, all that hair fanned against expensive Italian sheets. The only answer—beautiful.
Grasping the zipper between my thumb and index finger, I took my time watching as the cool metal slid up and over her skin.
“All set.”
“Thank you,” she replied, turning back to face me, her eyes taking me in with interest. “I didn’t see your name on the call sheet. Are you a last-minute guest?”
“Actually, I’m Stacy’s co-host today. Looks like I’ll be interviewing you. I may even throw in some personal questions. We can get really intimate.”
A dark blush spread across Tinley’s cheeks. I wondered if she flushed like that when she came. Over the past few weeks, I’d spent a fair amount of time wondering how she moaned during sex.
A woman wearing a blue blazer spoke up as a mass of people filled up the space. “And this hallway leads to our guest suites and down that way is the green room.”
“Oh my God, it’s Matthew Barber,” a woman shrieked.
Tinley’s eyes popped wide. “That’s my cue to exit stage left. Good luck, Matthew. I hope they don’t eat you alive.”
I’d like to eat you.
Walking backwards she gave me a wink and then scurried past a few women inching closer to where I stood. I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, and hoped to God security was nearby. I loved my fans, but sometimes the women were a tad frisky—nothing like getting your ass grabbed by someone’s grandmother.
Duty calls.
“Ladies, would you care for a quick picture before the show starts?”
“You might recognize our next guest if you are a fan of the long running soap opera, Barrington Shores. These days, however, she can be found running things behind the scenes of The Atkinson Foundation in honor of her late mother, Elizabeth. Please welcome Tinley Atkinson.” Stacy finished her speech and we rose from our seats through the loud roar of applause as Tinley sauntered from backstage smiling and waving to the audience.
Tinley was an actress, and her mother was the queen of Broadway. Fuck. I remember when Elizabeth died. The story, the tragedy—it was all over the news.
Now, everything made sense, this was why Tinley’s name was familiar. I wondered if her mother’s death was the reason she had quit acting. My own mother was obsessed with Barrington Shores. She never missed an episode.
I didn’t take my eyes off her as she approached. Tinley hugged Stacy first, and then she leaned into me snaking an arm around my back. The scent of honey and peaches crashed into my senses. Having her in my arms again was intoxicating. It felt good, she felt good—too good.
After the small talk, Stacy dove into the reason for Tinley’s appearance on the show.
“So, tell us about the gala,” Stacy prompted, smoothing her skirt over her knees. “Is this a private affair or can the public attend?”
“Well, if you have a few thousand dollars you can buy a plate and attend the event,” Tinley said with a laugh. “The gala is to raise money for the Elizabeth Atkinson Foundation, which donates to various charitable organizations such as the arts and theater societies of New York and around the United States. The Spring Gala is raising money for The Youth Academy and their afterschool programs that include music and art.”
“A very worthy cause, wouldn’t you agree, Matt?”
“Absolutely, for me personally, the after-school theater program in my hometown made a huge difference in my life. Without that experience, I probably wouldn’t have even entertained the idea of becoming an actor.”
Stacy’s dark brows scrunched. “I sense a story, do tell.”
I reached for my coffee mug. “There’s nothing much to tell. The short story, as a kid I was painfully shy, I joined the local theater to overcome the shyness.”
A collective, aww came from the audience followed by some hushed indistinct chatter.
Leaning forward, Tinley cocked her head. “I’d never have guessed that you were shy.”
Stacy’s brows rose as she looked between the two of us. “Do you two know one another?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, Tinley and I met a few months ago in Los Angeles. She was on a date.”
Tinley’s blue eyes went wide and her red lips parted enough to let me know she was caught off guard by my words.
“Actually, Stacy,” Tinley interjected, lifting her coffee mug to her lips. “I’ll give you some scoop—an exclusive.”
Stacy clasped her hands together. “Well, what a treat, do tell.”
I shook my head grinning. What is she up to?
She placed the mug onto the coaster. “When I met Matthew, he was on a date with a certain pop star,” she said, turning the audience. “That pop star, well, she was announced as the opening act for the Billboard Music Awards this morning.” Tinley tossed me a smug look of satisfaction.
Gasps and groans filtered through the crowd. I laughed a little louder than I probably should have and then turned to face Stacy.
“Matt, Matt, Matt, so the rumors are true,” she prompted, clasping her hands in her lap. “Would you like to confirm that you’re dating Kylie Clemson?”
I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Sorry to disappoint, darlin’. The only thing I can confirm is that I am very much single.” At that I shot my eyes back to Tinley.
“Well, I’m sure a few of the ladies in the audience would gladly help you to make that change in your dating life.”
I’m sure they would.
“What about you, Tinley, does your busy schedule leave you much time for dating?” Stacy asked.
“Sadly, no,” she sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “I’m single as well.”
“I have an idea,” she paused for a moment. “As it would seem, Matt’s single and you’re single. There’s a gala coming up. I think that’s the perfect opportunity for two beautiful, single people, such as yourselves to enjoy an evening out. What do you think, audience?”
Cheers and loud applause echoed through the studio. I was tempted to join them—instead I sat back amused at the turn of events. The producer pointed to the clipboard, a cue to finish this segment and move on.
“Thank you for stopping by, Tinley. For more information on the Elizabeth Atkinson Foundation, please visit the website at the bottom of the screen. You can also find a link on our Facebook page.”
I turned and smiled into the camera. “Don’t go anywhere, folks, there’s lots more to come on today’s show.”
During the commercial break, hair and makeup attended to Stacy while the producer went over a few notes regarding the next segment. After Tinley posed for a few photos with us, she thanked Stacy for having her on the show. Tinley sidestepped me, and I caught her by the arm. “Don’t leave. I want to talk to you.”
“Okay, sure,” she replied. Her voice was smooth and even. “I have to change anyway.”
“I hope whatever you’re changing into has substantially less fabric.”
“Thirty seconds and then we’re back from commercial break,” the cameraman announced.
Tinley smiled. “The theater, it’s quite the cure for shyness.”
“I’ll see you in few, wait for me.”