one’s sexuality was very definitive. And the label was just as happy with bisexual blondes as they were with lesbians.”
Colt doesn’t say anything for several long minutes. Then, “Well, I guess that just makes our arrangement even easier, doesn’t it?”
I smile at him and clink my glass against his. “I know I can hack it. The question is, can you?”
“Would you like to guess what I’m looking at right now?” My agent, Delores, doesn’t bother with pleasantries or preliminaries when she calls. She just gets straight to the point.
Sitting up in bed, I rub my eyes and stifle a yawn. “I’d really rather you just told me. I’m too tired for guessing games.” Even though she was also at the party last night, I didn’t have time to appraise her of my agreement with Colt, so I have an idea of what she’s calling about. By the time Colt approached me, she’d apparently run out of people she wanted me to meet, because after Colt excused himself to get back to his brother, I’d found Delores and she’d told me I could go home. Which was an order, despite being phrased as an option. She was leaving and she didn’t want me to stay to get into trouble.
“It’s a picture of you,” she says, her voice cool with displeasure. I can practically see her sitting behind her desk, her eyes sharp behind her black cat-eye glasses while she stares at the picture, not a hair in her stylish gray pixie cut out of place. She’s probably already wearing one of her severe suits, every inch the barracuda. That’s why she’s the best, and it’s why she’s going to help me climb out of the hole I’ve found myself in and land on top. The fact that she’s unhappy is bad. Very bad.
I gulp.
“From last night. You’re practically dry humping some man.” I hear her hand slap on a hard surface in the background. “It was an industry party. You were there to network. To be in the public eye. And most of all, to show that you’re not some—some floozy, just out for a good time and not taking her career seriously. How did you even manage this? Didn’t you go home when I told you to? What were you thinking?”
Delores is clearly agitated, her usual calm disrupted by what she clearly sees as a misstep.
“I did network. And doesn’t it look better for me to be seen in a stable relationship?” That’s what Colt said last night, after all. And he sounded so confident that I believed him. Bile rises in my throat, but not from the formerly familiar feeling of a hangover. No, this is a different sensation altogether—dread and anxiety causing a sharp pinch in my solar plexus that makes it almost impossible to breathe past the fear clogging my throat.
Delores doesn’t speak for long enough that I pull my phone away from my face to make sure we’re still connected. And when she does, the icy calm in her voice does nothing to ease my racing heart. “It would,” she hisses, “if you were actually in a serious, stable relationship.”
I swallow hard. “What if … what if I were?”
Silence. Then, “Are you?” I can’t decipher the inflection in her voice. Is she hoping I’ll say yes or no?
“Yes?”
“Are you asking me, dear? Or are you telling me?” Can she guess that I’m lying through my teeth?
But it’s not really a lie, is it? Colt and I agreed to date. So what if it’s mostly for the public? We’re still dating. We’ve agreed to a serious, mutually beneficial relationship. Plenty of relationships are based on less. Hell, some cultures still practice arranged marriages, right? I mean, I’ve seen that in TV shows, anyway. And those are based on advantageous family alliances.
This is an advantageous business alliance. What’s the difference?
“Yes,” I repeat, more firmly this time.
“Well,” Delores says, an unexpected tinge of surprise coloring her voice. She rarely betrays her feelings, keeping a tight lid on whatever she’s feeling or thinking. With me, anyway, she’s all business all the time. Which is what I need from her.
“That does make a difference, I suppose,” she continues briskly, her own feelings tightly under wraps once again. “You do realize what you’re doing, right?” This time her voice holds a clear note of warning. “This has to be serious serious. Like put a ring on it serious for anyone to think you’re not just whoring around like you did on tour.