“Actually, I haven’t.” And I’m surprised Banner hasn’t seen them or mentioned them either. But then again, she’s working her tail off today, and other than our little lunchtime chat, she’s swamped at work.
“My entire PR team was already working overtime to try to crush the ad, and now they’re bombarded with pictures of you and some actor. I need some goddamned details so they can spin it. Who the fuck is this guy to you?”
It’s a question I dreaded having to answer years ago because I knew Creighton would never understand dating someone so far outside our social circle. Before Holly, at least. I stick to the truth as much as I can.
“He’s an old friend. We met when I was at Columbia.”
“Why didn’t I know about this?”
“Because you were happily minding your own business and letting me live my own life.”
A deep sound of frustration comes through the line. “And now your stunts are impacting my life and my business, Greer. I thought you understood that. Investor confidence is taking another hit with this stuff.”
Guilt floods me, twisting in my stomach. “I’m sorry, Crey. I didn’t think about that. But I’m also not going to live my life any differently just to appease investors. You haven’t, so why should the rules be any different for me?”
“The rules are different, whether you want them to be or not. I’m having the head of PR call you to walk through the dos and don’ts you need to be observing now that you’ve got this guy in the mix. Lay low; don’t attract any more media attention. And I’ve got a team digging into his background. I need to know exactly who we’re dealing with before you see him again.”
And once again, I’m a wayward teenager who can’t possibly be trusted to know what I want or what’s best for me.
“Call them off.” My voice is flat and filled with determination.
“Not a chance in hell.”
“You don’t need to dig into him. I know exactly who he is and what he’s about.”
“Greer—”
I decide to lay it all out. “I’m already sleeping with him, Crey. Whatever you find out, it’s not affecting what I’m going to do. So basically, quit wasting your time.”
“You’re more stubborn than I am.” His voice twists into a familiar growl.
“I learned from the best.”
“Look, Greer, I need to know he’s not trying to scam you. You know what you’ve got to offer, and I’m not saying he’s looking for an easy payday, but I’d be a shitty brother if I wasn’t watching out for you.”
“I know, but I’m also not going to marry the guy like you married some perfect stranger after a one-night stand. So, quit worrying so much. If those pictures of us are already stirring interest, then the paps are going to be around whether I lay low or not. I might as well enjoy myself.”
“If stock prices keep falling in response, I’ll be taking action whether you like it or not. That’s a promise.”
The threat clearly on the table, Creighton and I say our good-byes and hang up. My life has never been simple, and today is no exception.
Is it worth it? For the non-relationship I have with Cav?
I have no answer to that question, except I’m not ready to call it off yet.
As I wrap Greer’s hand around the grip of a gun, I wonder if I’m making a huge mistake.
But where do you take the girl who has everything on a date? If you’re me, you take her to the gun range for a dual-purpose date—Greer gets to see that I’ve got mad skills, and she learns something useful.
“So I just pull the trigger,” she yells, her voice abnormally loud because of the ear-protection effect.
“Squeeze,” I tell her. “It’s a smooth motion.” I demonstrate with my finger as she bites her lip and concentrates downrange at the target.
It’s been a thirty-minute crash course in gun safety, and we’re finally getting to the fun part. At least, I hope she thinks it’s the fun part.
She squeezes the trigger but doesn’t jump at the percussion. Good sign. There’s no hole in the target, so I know she missed.
“Try again. Aim a little lower.”
She squeezes the trigger again, this time putting a hole in the chest of the yellow man hanging in the lane downrange. Greer flips the safety on, sets the gun down on the counter, and yanks off her ear protection.
“I did it!” Clapping her hands and bouncing, she looks younger than twenty-six and too damn innocent to drag into my life. But that doesn’t mean I won’t.
“Damn good job, baby girl. You want to give it another shot?”
She glances from me to the black 9mm Sig Sauer. “Sure, why not?”
“You’ve got plenty of ammo, so you might as well use it up.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.” Excitement lights up her face, and a triumphant feeling grows in my chest.
Once her ear protection is back in place, she unloads the remainder of the rounds in the magazine, and I reload it for her. Once she’s put a suitable number of holes in the target, she lays the gun down again, her dark eyes dancing with enthusiasm.