The Consequence of Seduction

“Yes,” we said in unison while I continued sizing him up. I wondered if it was a bad sign that he recognized me after the chaos of the morning. Why even try, am I right?

“Good.” Ren took a seat. “That will make things so much easier, don’t you think, Ella?”

“Yes!” Ella, who I recognized as an agent, reached for Ren’s hand and squeezed. “So good to see you.”

They were of similar age.

And started talking about their kids.

While I took a seat next to the handsome guy and tapped my chin. “You look . . .”

“Handsome? Not gay? Take your pick.”

“Bummer, I was going to say sober.” I smiled sweetly.

He rolled his eyes. “For the last time, I’m not gay. It was a mistake; if you knew my insane brother, you’d understand.”

I held up my hands.

“So does that work out?” Ren asked from the front of the table.

“Er.” I cleared my throat. “Absolutely.”

Handsome Man narrowed his eyes. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Care to reiterate the conversation?” This he directed at me.

I felt myself flush from head to toe.

Ren slid a folder across the table. “Everything should be there. The contract isn’t your usual, Jordan.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Jordan.” Mr. Handsome rolled my name around on his tongue like he wanted to take a taste. I shifted in my seat and shot him a glare. Total self-preservation move. “Isn’t that a guy’s name?”

“Reid.” Ella coughed from her end of the table.

I smiled sweetly. “Reid, hmm, what an interesting name.” Isn’t that something that grows out of algae-infested water? That’s what I wanted to say, but because I needed him as a client, I refused to comment further. Not that it mattered, since it seemed like he could read my thoughts.

His lips twitched with a suppressed smirk.

“Ha-ha.” Ren laughed uncomfortably, breaking the silent stare-down Reid and I were having. “So we’ll just let you two discuss the details of the contract. I assume you’re able to do that now, Jordan, or did you want to reschedule?”

What? Because I looked like I’d been the unlucky recipient of swine flu? No, thanks. This was my job, and regardless of how I looked, I could do my job.

I nodded as Ella and Ren exited the room.

“So, you’re my client,” I said blandly. “Can’t say I’m surprised. You look the type.”

Insulting the client wasn’t part of the plan—in fact, the entire plan went to hell the minute my brain recognized the guy from the bar the night before. He didn’t seem like he’d be a diva actor who needed babysitting on the weekends because he’d decided to fly to the South of France for the weekend, get drunk, then miss his call time. I pressed my lips together. He didn’t seem violent either, or aggressive, but then again, what did I know? I’d had to lie plenty of times to protect my actors from the press. If I was paid for how many times I said, “They’re being treated for exhaustion,” I’d be a millionaire.

“So.” Reid leaned his forearms against the table, his muscles glistening under the fluorescent lights. How was that possible? “What type is that?”

“Arrogant self-absorbed actors are my specialty.”

“You forgot gay.”

“So now you admit it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was joking.”

“I didn’t get it.” I sighed and opened the folder. “Okay, so this is how it’s going to work. I make sure you keep an impeccable reputation during filming, show you how to make the people love you—and I do mean love you—and if I do a good job, which I will, we’ll renegotiate for higher pay, which you’ll happily agree to, so we’ll sign on the dotted lines and be a match made in PR heaven. Questions?” I was being harsh, which was not normal for me. I usually started meetings with compliments and by the time we were finished signing the contract the actor was convinced that they couldn’t so much as breathe without me. I was torn between wanting to prove to Reid that he needed me versus it being the other way around. I’d never been in a situation where my client made me feel defensive, like I needed to wrap myself in body armor to keep myself safe.

“One,” he whispered. “What really happened to you this morning?” He leaned forward and sniffed. “And why do you smell like chocolate dog?”

“Aw, you’re such a charmer. We’ll have to work on that.” I patted the folder and pulled out my business card. “From here on out, I’m your girlfriend, your wife, the best friend you never had, your sister from another mister. I am your world. Stick with me, keep it in your pants, and make sure all big decisions happen before midnight and without the aid of alcohol, and I think we’ll do just fine!”

He took the card and gave me a blank stare. “Who are you?”

“Right now?” I stood on wobbly feet and inhaled sharply. “I’m your ticket to being the biggest A-list star Hollywood has ever seen.”

Clearly it was time to sell him, since his blank stare didn’t exactly exude confidence in my abilities.

“Tom Williams.” The name alone used to inflict fear in publicists around the world. He was a nightmare. A stuck-up man-child who was known more for his nightly conquests and arrests for drug possession than his acting chops.