“No. I was trying to recall if I’d mentioned your job to him. But I haven’t. Our conversations have been pretty short, actually. I think he’s keeping something from me, something about Gavin, which I can’t really complain about because I’m keeping some information on our favorite broody drummer from him, too. But I know for a fact I haven’t said anything about your job or you working on Wade’s tour.”
Relief spreads through my chest, clearing it of the intricate webs of tension that had formed when I’d been researching Jase’s new opening act.
I want to ask her what she thinks is going on with Gavin, if she’s okay, and what she thinks I should do about Dallas. But before I can, he appears in my line of sight and I have to go. Jase Wade follows not far behind and a curvy brunette is hot on his heels and looks mad as hell. Probably a woman scorned. He seems to leave a trail of them in his wake.
“Hey, thanks. I have to go. I’m actually at work right now. But I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sounds good. And I am so sorry, Robyn. Seriously. I suck. I should’ve—”
“It’s fine. Promise. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
Him, I mean. I can handle him.
At least I hope I can. Because he’s walking directly toward me.
The brunette stops Dallas and pulls him aside so Jase reaches me first. He gestures to the pyramid of bottles behind me.
“Lookin’ good.”
I smile and smooth the lace dress I’m wearing under my denim blazer. “I’m glad you like it.”
“The display looks great, too,” he adds with a sly smile.
I shake my head and turn just in time to see the brunette glaring at Jase. I’m distracted by the outrage glowing in her eyes so I notice a second too late that Dallas is close enough to recognize me.
Our eyes meet and I wonder for a full minute if this is the movie of my life being shot without my permission.
He looks different than when I saw him at his grandfather’s funeral a couple of months ago. There’s just enough dark scruff on his chin and jaw to make me wonder what it would feel like in the palms of my hands, in the valley between my breasts, and Heaven help me, on the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I would slap some sense into myself if I were alone right now.
Dallas stills completely, the questions clear in his gaze. He has no idea what the hell I’m doing here. Tension ripples tight on both sides of his jaw. He probably thinks he’s having some kind of nightmare.
“Drew here will get a few shots of both of you with the display.” I smile at the freelance photographer that works for Midnight Bay from time to time. “Then he’ll take the VIP shots separately. Just smile and act natural.”
That’s what I’ll be trying to do.
Drew’s been doing this a lot longer than I have. He already has his camera up and is snapping candids. I can only imagine what the shots of Dallas’s face are going to look like.
You’re prepared, Robyn. Dallas isn’t. Brace yourself for him to possibly behave like an ass in five . . . four . . . three. . .
“Robyn? What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t look at all happy to see me. Not that I can blame him.
“Hi, Dallas. It’s nice to see you, too. Now if you’ll just step over to where Jase is standing we can get a few shots of both of you with the—”
“Is this some kind of joke?” he asks low so that only I can hear. I watch helplessly as he looks around as if he expects a film crew to pop out and tell him he’s been Punk’d.
The entire group has turned its attention to us since he hasn’t stepped over to where he should be standing. I take a deep breath and school my features so they remain professionally polite. “No joke. I am here working. Same as you.” I force a tight smile while making deliberate eye contact. I telepathically send him a harsh “We have a job to do, suck it up, you big baby” message but he narrows his eyes and sends one right back. “We will discuss this later.”
He has questions. I’ll probably have to answer them. Honestly.