The Has-Been and the Hot Mess - Isabel Jordan Page 0,30

exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

And the sexual tension that always sizzled between them?

Stronger. Then. Ever.

When this event was over and Jackson was well on his way to getting the job of his dreams, she was going to have to tell him how she was feeling. She couldn’t keep up the charade of being nothing more than his PR manager for much longer. She was already way more attached to him than was strictly professional, and it was only getting worse.

Was it even possible that he felt the same way?

With her luck? It sure as hell didn’t seem likely.

And if not, well, she supposed she’d just have to blow that bridge up when she got to it.

Chapter 18

Kendall Quinn had been a damn drill sergeant in a past life. There was no other explanation for it.

When she said jump, a legion of workers asked, “How high?” When she told them to make the impossible happen, they said, “Yes, sir!”

Jackson was a little ashamed to say he’d had a moment of skepticism when she said she could pull this whole thing off in a few weeks. But she’d come through, and she’d made the whole thing look easy.

It was damned impressive, really.

She was damned impressive.

What should have been chaos was running like a well-oiled machine, and the little lady with the headset and clipboard was in complete control of it all.

Every inch of his farm was packed with people. News crews, pet owners, pet lovers, people looking to adopt dogs, music fans, folks just looking for something to do on a lazy Saturday afternoon…they were all here. They’d come from far and wide, and they were adopting dogs like Jackson had never seen before.

The day was only half over, and most of the imported shelter dogs and every one of his dogs had already been adopted. Well, except for Howard Hughes, of course. He still refused to come out of his house to see anyone. But that was OK. He couldn’t blame him. There was a lot going on. If Jackson could crawl into a tiny house and hide, he probably would.

But that wasn’t an option for him. Not when Kendall had him in front of a reporter every five minutes, talking about the shelter and the importance of adopting versus shopping.

The interviews weren’t really bothering him, though. It was the upcoming performance that was hanging over his head like the grim scepter of death.

He’d be following a local band who had a sizable fan base, closing out the live entertainment portion of the evening. And even though he’d been practicing nonstop for the past few weeks, the thought of getting out on that stage—in front of thousands of people—had him breaking out in a cold sweat.

He’d been so sure of his song choices. But now, shit, he wasn’t sure of anything. Maybe he should’ve worked out some songs he could play on the piano instead of the guitar. He could hide behind a piano—physically and musically. A piano could be manipulated to cover up missed and sour vocal notes. A guitar couldn’t. With a guitar, he was totally exposed.

Jackson glanced at his watch. And he was going to be totally exposed in less than an hour.

Fucking great.

It wasn’t too late. He could still back out. If Kendall could pull all of this together, surely she could get him a meeting with the studio without him having to perform in front of a live audience.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Jackson turned as Ray slapped a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Don’t even think about what?” he asked.

Ray made a pfffttt sound. “I know you better than you know yourself. You’re thinking about bailing on the performance.”

Jackson glanced out at the gathering audience from his spot backstage, behind the curtain. “I was not,” he lied.

Ray straightened his T-shirt, which said, “I love dogs more than people” across his chest, and raised an incredulous brow at him. “You’re full of shit. You’re ready to run. I can see it all over this stupidly perfect face of yours.”

What a stupid, perceptive jerk his brother was. “It’s been a while since I’ve performed anywhere, Ray,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m not sure I can pull this off.”

“You’ve tanked performances before,” Ray reminded him, completely unnecessarily. “Everyone has. What are you afraid of?”

I don’t want to let her down.

The thought popped into his head, catching him completely unaware. There were so many things about this performance that bothered him. It’d been such a long time since