involved, and not only because the blitz had been her idea. If nothing else, I'd been planning to make her a consultant.
But why?
After some serious reflection, I'd come up with a plausible answer, one I was perfectly willing to share. "Sometimes creative and crazy go hand-in-hand."
It was no lie.
Even now, my own brothers called me crazy at least once a week, and I was one hell of a creative guy.
Across from me, Mina looked unconvinced. "So let me get this straight. You got me involved because you think that crazy people have better ideas?"
I glanced down at her proposal. "Not this time apparently."
Her chin lifted. "Well, maybe I didn't know what you wanted."
I knew the feeling. Hell, I didn't even know what I wanted.
But at the moment, I wasn't thinking of the campaign. I was thinking of the girl sitting across from me.
She'd been on my mind far too much.
Maybe I was the crazy one.
This wasn't the first time I'd thought this. And odds were, it wouldn't be the last.
Chapter 35
Mina
He wanted creativity?
Oh, I'd give him creativity, alright.
Our meeting had ended just fifteen minutes ago, and I was still stewing, even as I strode along the sidewalk, heading toward my car.
To think, I'd spent two whole weeks putting together a proposal that he'd barely glanced at, except to criticize.
And the worst part?
He'd been right.
The jackass.
In hindsight, it was glaringly obvious that I should have tailored the events to Blast Tools and not to some generic idea of what made a festival fun.
After all, Blast Tools was an exciting brand with three famous brothers at the helm. The brothers were hot and badass – edgy but not vulgar, with the possible exception of Chase himself, whose reputation was definitely on the raunchy side.
A cakewalk would hardly fit with their brand. And neither would a horseshoe toss or a sack race. Damn it.
But in my own defense, part of the reason I'd suggested wholesome stuff was because Chase had mentioned that tell-all book, the one written by his ex.
I'd been reluctant to bring it up during today's meeting, but it had been on my mind, even more so during the past couple of weeks when I'd been compiling the proposed list of events.
Based on what Chase had told me earlier, the book was scheduled to be released in mid-summer, just as the festival season reached its zenith. With this in mind, I'd made a point to select events that were nice, safe and maybe a little old-fashioned, thinking it would help offset the ugliness of the book.
Obviously, I'd been thinking wrong.
Nice wasn't what he wanted.
This was perfectly reasonable. And yet, I couldn’t help but regret all of the wasted time.
Why hadn't he told me up-front?
And what was that bit about me being crazy?
It wasn't the first time he'd suggested such a thing, and I didn't appreciate it – just like I didn't appreciate the way he made my pulse jump whenever he looked at me a certain way, like maybe I wasn't quite as repulsive as he'd originally thought.
Was he doing that on purpose?
Or did he just have that much sex-appeal?
I was still trying to decide when I reached my car, parked along the same stretch where I'd parked the last two times I'd met with Chase.
Just before opening the driver's side door, I paused and looked up toward the building that I'd just left. I zoomed on the top floor.
Was he watching me right now?
I gave a silent scoff. Yeah, right. As if he didn't have anything better to do.
And speaking of better things to do, boy did I have my work cut out for me.
Chapter 36
Mina
My dad stared out the front window. "He is coming to the door, right?"
From the living room, I gave the driveway a long, worried look. Obviously, Dad was seeing what I was seeing – an exotic orange sports car turning into our long driveway.
I reached for my purse. "What? No." With a nervous laugh, I explained yet again, "It's not a date. We're just driving to the fairgrounds, that's all."
Sounding less than convinced, my dad said, "So, why's he picking you up?"
"Because our house is on the way, just like I said." I turned and gave my mom an exasperated look. She remembered, right?
Her only response was a resigned shrug, which was zero help.
At the window, my dad grumbled, "Sounds like a date to me."
Finally, my mom spoke up. "Oh, Bob. It can't be a date. She hates him."
"What?" I sputtered. "No. I never said