top of the Swiffer handle.
“I don’t wanna know, darlin’.” He patted my shoulder as he walked by me into the kitchen. “I don’t wanna know.”
I snorted and pushed the dusting device around the hardwood floor as the sounds of Zac messing around in the kitchen kept me company while I thought about Aiden’s conversation. He had never said anything about leaving the team, and I guess I hadn’t assumed he would. From the digits in his bank account—at least the account I had access to—his contract extension a few years ago had been more than lucrative. Plus, he’d only improved. He was the face of the Three Hundreds. They would give him anything he asked for, but who the hell actually knew what that was? I sure didn’t.
Aiden should be singing praises for the Three Hundreds all day every day for what they’d given him in exchange for his skills.
“The house is lookin’ good, Cinderella,” Zac snorted as he held a bowl to his chest and snuck by me before I could whack him with the handle. He dashed through the doorway that led into the living room. The television was turned on a moment later.
Before I knew it, Aiden was in his bedroom getting dressed in something other than workout clothes for the first time in months, and a Channel 2 news truck was parking on the curb across the street. With a quick glance around, I made sure the house looked even more spot-free than usual. By the time the doorbell started ringing, Zac was zooming up the stairs with a panicked expression on his face.
“I don’t live here,” he muttered on his journey just as I reached the door and opened it.
A man in a suit and two cameramen stood on the other side. “Hi, come in,” I said, waving them forward. “Aiden will be down in a second. Would you like something to drink?”
All three of them glanced around carefully as I showed them into the living room where a producer and Trevor had already agreed would be the best place to film. I caught the camera guy looking at the walls when Aiden jogged down the steps. I’d never lived through an earthquake, but I was sure him on the steps might register on the Richter scale.
He filled the entrance to the living room—his shoulders and arms looking spectacular in the white polo shirt he’d somehow squeezed into, and the khaki pants he had to get specially made for his oversized thighs. I edged my way out of the corner of the living room, not necessarily wanting to but knowing I needed to. Just because I was pissed off at him didn’t mean I stopped doing my job.
“Need anything before you start?”
His eyes were everywhere, except on me. “Get them some water.”
Oh, ye of little expectations.
I blew out a breath, ground down on my molars, and nodded. “I was already going to do that. I was just waiting for you to come downstairs.”
When the doorbell rang, I frowned and walked around Aiden, wondering if one of the crew had been outside taking a smoke break. Peeking through the hole, I saw a face I’d seen enough of recently through video chat.
Trevor.
Of all the people in the world…
Undoing the lock, I slowly let it swing open but put my body between him and the crack in the door.
“Vanessa,” the forty-ish man greeted me.
My eyelids lowered. “Trevor.”
Dressed in a steel-gray suit with his hair combed back, he looked every bit of the high-powered sports manager he was… and a douche. “Can I come in?” He didn’t make it sound like a question.
Could he? Yes. Did I want him to? No. But considering his two clients lived here, I didn’t really have a say. “I didn’t know you were in town,” I commented as he stepped passed me inside.
“Only for the day,” he said, casually strolling in and heading into the living room.
Had he been in town talking to the team about Aiden? Was that who Aiden had been on the phone with?
To give Aiden and Trevor credit, they both acted like they hadn’t just been arguing recently. What a bunch of fake-asses. I held back my eye roll, and headed into the kitchen to grab enough bottles of water for the entire crew, Aiden, and The White Devil. I set the bottles on the coffee table and headed toward the half bath to take a quick pee.
“Van!” Zac whisper-hissed when I was in the hallway.
I tipped my