tackling you. But you’re so big it’s ridiculous.” She laughs some more. “Sorry. It tickled me.”
I feign irritation, letting out a huff and staring at the ceiling. Then I tickle her, and she shrieks in surprise. I wrap her in my arms, hugging her and shielding her at the same time from curious eyes and cameras.
“Are we making a scene?” she asks my chest.
“It’s my bad influence. You can’t take me anywhere.”
She smiles up at me, and my heart thunders. I want to kiss her so bad. But I said I’d give her time, get to know each other as friends, so she can see she can trust me. And it can only help if we build something deeper. Then I’ll know for sure I’m not just her rebound guy.
“Let’s go back to our seats,” I say, dropping an arm over her shoulders. “We’re less interesting there than on the dance floor or giggling in the corner, and we’ll have a chance to talk more.”
“I do not giggle,” she protests. “I’m very serious.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You tickled me. I’m not used to that.”
“Don’t forget your hilarious giggles over the idea of me naked.”
She giggles again. “Just the animated version in my mind.”
“Stop picturing it,” I order.
She fights back a laugh, her hazel eyes dancing with amusement. Sweet woman. I want her so damn bad.
We’re intercepted several times by guests on our way to our table. Most people just want the chance to meet her. She’s animated and enthusiastic, encouraging them to get involved with Best Friends Care in any way they can. Every compliment they give her, she deflects and draws their attention to the cause, even while she’s signing programs and taking selfies. She gives them what they want, but it’s never about her. No big ego here when there easily could’ve been with the way people fawn over her. I like that. She’s not caught up in fame, which means she could be with a regular guy like me. It worked for Sean and Josie. Of course, they met when Josie was a struggling out-of-work actress. Still, I have hope.
By the time the evening ends, I know without a shadow of a doubt. She was put in my path for a reason. It’s fate at work here.
7
Harper
The next morning, I wake and stretch, my mind flashing back to last night—Garrett. He called me sweetheart. He said I’m worth taking it slow. What a revelation this man is!
I grab my phone from the nightstand and sit up, propping the pillows behind my back, and power it on. A few moments later, a series of texts from my publicist appear.
Dana: OMG, you did it. You made the New York Times society page! You two look amazing together. Everyone loves the royal angle. You have to take him to more events. They’re speculating you’ll be the next American princess!!!
There’s a series of links. Pictures and stories from inside the fundraiser, as well as from the red carpet. Almost all of them focus on Garrett with the occasional story reminding people of me and Colton. Everyone wants to know more about the “secret prince of Brooklyn.” Some are asking what he’s been in; some speculate he’s a model.
I press my lips together, my stomach turning sour. Where are the articles on Best Friends Care? That was the whole point of the gala. I do a search, hoping to find something. There’s only a few short articles that sound as vanilla as a press release about how much the evening raised. At least it’s something, but I’d hoped there would be a bigger reach to get the public involved. I shouldn’t have brought him. I wanted to go solo. Of course, then the focus probably would’ve been on Colton and what happened with us.
Why can’t people focus on what’s important? My love life shouldn’t be anyone’s concern but my own. I know it’s part of the deal being a public figure, but come on.
I need to know what Garrett thinks about all this, so I text him. You’re famous.
No response.
I blink away tears, irritated by them. It’s just baggage. Garrett was wonderful last night.
After a shower, I curl up on my sofa to watch an old movie in my favorite soft T-shirt and fleece pajama bottoms. I always need to recharge after a big event like the gala. My phone chimes with a text, and I grab it off the coffee table.
Garrett: You’re the famous one, sweetheart. I just stood in your shadow.
I can almost hear