“Well,” Jenna said with a wry grin. “Okay then.”
Tara pondered Jenna’s comments after Jenna had slipped away to talk to her mother, wondering what she’d meant by them. Had Mick’s relationships with some of the women he’d been photographed with been more than just photo ops and public relations stunts?
She knew he had a reputation as a bad boy lady-killer, but assumed that was all PR, too.
Maybe not.
“Nice party. You do good work.”
Elizabeth Darnell. The perfect person to ask that question of, since she was Mick’s agent, but no way could she, or would she, ask.
“Thank you. You look beautiful. Not working tonight?”
Elizabeth arched a perfect brow. “Now why would you ask that?”
“You’re in a dress, not a suit.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I’m always working, honey, no matter what I wear. I just have to dress to suit the occasion.”
And Elizabeth was dressed impeccably in a tightly fitting black strapless cocktail dress that wrapped around her incredible body, and designer shoes with shiny crystals across the straps that called attention to Elizabeth’s perfectly manicured toes and exceptional legs. “So you’re meeting clients, then?”
“Mick and Gavin are my clients, as well as a couple other men in attendance here.”
“Gavin isn’t really just a client for you, though, is he?”
Tara read the shock in Elizabeth’s eyes, but she masked it right away. “I don’t know what you’re implying.”
“Oh, I saw the way you looked at him at his birthday party. You have a thing for him.”
“Gavin is my client. I treat all my clients like they’re special.”
“I’m sure you do. But the way you look at Gavin is different.”
“I don’t look at him any special way. What are you talking about?”
Her normally cool demeanor was ruffled, Tara could tell. She was wondering what it would take to knock some of the ice chips from Liz’s heart. Maybe she wasn’t as cold as Tara thought.
Tara shrugged. “I’m a woman. I see things.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms. “What things?”
“The warmth in your eyes when you look at him. A certain yearning. It’s not there when you look at other men.”
Now there was fear in her eyes. If Tara didn’t think Elizabeth was a giant pain in the ass, she’d almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
“You’re imagining things, Tara. Gavin is a great client who makes me a ton of money. You know what you see in my eyes when I look at him? Dollar signs. I do whatever it takes to make my players happy.”
“I see. So really, nothing is ever downtime for you, is it?”
“There’s always work to be done.” Elizabeth slipped her arm in Tara’s and led her toward the back of the ballroom. “And speaking of work, let’s talk about Mick.”
This should be interesting.
Elizabeth led her out the door and into the garden. The night was warm, but fortunately not hellishly so. Elizabeth walked over toward the fountain where a string of lights highlighted her red hair, which was expertly pulled up in what Tara decided had to be her trademark French twist. Pieces had been pulled down to frame her face. Elizabeth turned to Tara and smiled, but it was a calculating smile.
“Okay, Elizabeth, you got me out here. What about Mick?”
“I like Mick’s off time to be put to good use.”
“Which means what, exactly?”
“Charitable foundations, public events, premieres, galleries, anything where he can be seen and photographed. It’s good for his image and for the team.”
“And you think his relationship with me is getting in the way of that.”
“I’m glad you see things my way.”
“I’m not saying I agree with you, Elizabeth. I’m just saying I understand your meaning. I’m certain Mick can choose to do whatever he wants.”
Elizabeth didn’t frown, but Tara saw the flash of anger in her eyes. “Look, Tara. I’m sure he’s having a wonderful time with you and your son, but the appeal is going to wear off eventually, and he’ll move on. He’ll miss the glamour, the parties, the fun and excitement that he’s used to.”
Tara shrugged, refusing to let Elizabeth get to her. “And if he does, then I guess he will move on. That’s his choice to make when and if that happens. Or rather, it’s our choice to make as far as our relationship. Or do you expect me to kick him to the curb now in order to spare myself the heartbreak later?”
“He’ll leave you eventually.”
Tara refused to rub the ache in her stomach where Elizabeth’s words had created a hole. “So you say. And maybe he won’t. Maybe I can offer him something he can’t get anywhere else.”