Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (194 page)

“Okay?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed.
“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“No, actually, it’s not.”
 
He pulled a loaf of crusty French bread
out of the breadbox and began slicing it into thick chunks.
 
“I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?”
 

“Yeah.”
 
He turned around and leaned against the stove.
 
He looked relax and in control.
 
“So you know how I had a meeting this
morning at Expera?”

“Right,” she said.
 
“And you said there was something that
went on there that had to do with me.
 
I’m assuming it’s something besides the fact that you tried to have sex
with me last night because you thought I worked there?”

He grinned.
 
“I was hoping you’d forget about that.
 
Of course, I guess it was kind of
unforgettable.”
 
He winked at her
and slung the dishtowel he was holding over his shoulder.
  

 
“Whatever,” she said.
 
“So what’s the proposition?”

“Well.”
 
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the
counter.
 
He looked like he was
trying to figure out the best way to explain something to her.
 
“You really know nothing about baseball?
 
You don’t watch it at all?”

“No,” she said.
 
“Baseball’s boring.”
 
It was true.
 
She hated sports, but could handle
watching basketball or football if she had to.
 
But baseball.
 
Ugh.
 
It took way too long to get through.
 
The games were so long that sometimes
even the players seemed bored, standing there in the outfield, waiting for a
ball to come their way.
 
Kenley
enjoyed needling Chad in this way, insulting his sport, but he didn’t seem
bothered by it.

“Well, my team, the Brooklyn Heat?
 
We’re trying to rebuild our reputation.”

“Oh, imagine that,” she said, and held her hand
to her chest in mock surprise.
 
“Your team has a bad reputation?”

“Anyway,”
Chad said, ignoring her sarcasm,
 
“when I went to that meeting this
morning, the one with Expera, they were really interested in signing me up for
an endorsement deal.
 
But they had
some concerns.”
 
He dropped a pat of
butter into the frying pan in front of him, and it slowly started
 
to melt.

“So your reputation proceeded you,” Kenley
said.
 
She didn’t feel sorry for
him.
 
What had he been expecting to
happen?
 
It was about time these
athletes figured out that they couldn’t just get away with cavorting with
random girls and getting into all kinds of nefarious situations.
 
She didn’t know for sure that Chad did
any of these things, of course.
 
But
she was willing to bet on it, especially after what had happened last night.

“Well, sort of.”
 
Chad pulled his phone out of his pocket,
pushed some buttons, and then showed her what was on the screen
.
 
“Our
reputation preceded
us.”

She looked down at the pictures on the screen
and gasped.
 
It was her.
 
Her and Chad.
 
It was so shocking to see the two of
them in a picture together, so unexpected, that at first, she didn’t remember
who had taken it, how anyone could have gotten the two of them together.
 
But then she remembered.
 
Last night.
 
The bartender.
 
Getting ambushed outside of Chad’s hotel
room.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, as her
fingers slid down the screen.
 
She
made the picture bigger.
 
Her hair
was all wild, and her clothes looked a little disheveled.
 
In the background, you could see the
door to Chad’s room, and it was obvious they’d just come out.
 
They both had shocked looks on their
faces, like they’d just gotten caught doing something bad.

“Don’t worry,” he said.
 
“The photo hasn’t been released.”

“Released?
 
Released
to who?”
 
she shrieked, trying not to panic.
 
She could just imagine the
headlines.
 
“Connecticut Girl Caught
With Bad Boy Baseball Player” or “Who’s The Mystery Woman?” or “Chad’s Latest
Conquest!”
 

 
They’d critique her hair, her body, her
clothes.
 
She’d end up on Perez
Hilton, like one of those girls who got caught with Charlie Sheen or Ashton
Kutcher.
 
Of course, those girls at
least got to have sex with the guys they were accused of messing around with,
and then they got to sell their stories.
 
She didn’t even have a story to sell!
 
All she’d done was kiss Chad.

“To the press.”

“Oh my God!”
 
She was having trouble breathing, and
she felt the blood drain from her face.

“Hey, calm down,” Chad said.
 
He handed her the flavored water that
was on the breakfast bar.
 
She took
a sip.
 
“Don’t worry, Expera is
owned by the Gulf Group, and they also own a lot of magazines.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“One of the editors at one of their
publications got offered the picture, and so they put it on retainer.”

“Put it on retainer?”

“Yeah.
 
They paid for an exclusive period of time to hold the pictures and
decide whether or not they want to pay for the rights.”

“So no one’s seem them yet.”
 
She let her breath out in one big
sigh.
 
“Thank God.”

“Nope.”
 
He walked back to the stove and started dipping pieces of bread into the
spiced up egg mixture and dropping them into the frying pan.
 
She stared at him.
 
How could he be so calm at a time like
this?
 
Yes, he was obviously a lot
more used to this kind of thing than she was, but still.
 
Wasn’t he worried about getting his picture
plastered all over the papers?

“So there’s no problem then?” she asked
hopefully.

“The problem,” he said cheerfully,
 
“is that the people at Expera think
you’re my girlfriend.”
 
He flipped a
piece of French toast expertly.
 
The
delicious smell of vanilla and brown sugar filled the kitchen, and Kenley’s
stomach rumbled.

“So what?” she said.
 
“Just tell them I’m not.”
 
Her body was filled with nervous energy,
and so she got up from the breakfast bar and started opening cupboards until she
located the plates.
 
All the
cabinets were filled to the brim with plates and bowls and mugs.
 
It made her a little sad, honestly,
thinking of Chad picking things out for this kitchen, hoping his mom would come
back one day and live here.
 
Of
course, he probably didn’t even pick the stuff out himself.
 
He probably had some assistant or
designer or someone do it for him.

“I can’t,” he says.
 
“Because if I tell them you’re not my
girlfriend, they’re not going to sign me.”

“I don’t get it.”
 
She brought the plates over to him, and
he slid a piece of French toast onto each one.
 
They looked amazing, with the perfect
hint of cinnamon, and the perfect amount of golden brown on the crusts.

“Well,” he said,
 
“if they think you’re just some random
girl I picked up at a bar, then that doesn’t exactly fit in with their brand.”

She brought her plate over to the breakfast bar
and poured syrup onto the French toast.
 
She took a bite and considered what he was saying.
 
“So basically, if you don’t tell them
I’m your girlfriend, they think you’re some kind of male whore, and the deal’s
dead.
 
But if you
do
tell them I’m your girlfriend, it
makes it okay that I was leaving your hotel room, and you become the new face
of Expera.”

He nodded.
 
“Exactly.”

She shrugged.
 
“Well, looks like you lost yourself a
deal.”

“That’s fine,” he said, setting his plate down
and sitting across from her at the bar.
 
“But if I loose the deal then they’re going to publish the pictures.”

She almost choked on her French toast.
 
“The pictures of us together?”

“Well, yeah.”
 
He picked up a paper napkin from the
holder and spread it across his lap.
 
He grinned at her.
 
“Bon
Appétit!”

“Why would they do that?”

“Let the pictures go to press?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if they’re not doing a deal with me,
then they have no reason to pay the money to keep them out of the papers.
 
What do they care if America thinks I’m
some kind of male slut?”

“Doesn’t America already think that?” she shot
back.

“I’m rehabbing my image.”
 
He grinned at her again.

“So this is your proposition?” she said, as
everything fell into place in her mind.
 
“You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

He nodded.
 
She laughed, and threw her head back.
 
That was ridiculous.
 
“That’s ridiculous.”
 
She forked up another piece of French
toast.
 

“How come?
 
You don’t think I’m cute enough for you?”

“First, no one would believe it.”

“Why not?”

“Because!
 
How did we meet?”

“I don’t know.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“We could concoct some kind of story.”

“And what would I have to do?”

“Spend time with me,” he said, shrugging.
 
“Just long enough for us to be seen out
together, for some other photographs of us to end up in the tabloids.”

“No.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“No
way.
 
I don’t want to end up in some
tabloid with you.”

“You do realize that if you don’t do it, you’re
going to end up in some tabloid anyway.”

“But it’s not true!”

“What’s not true?
 
That you made out with me in my hotel
room just an hour after meeting me, and then a paparazzi caught a snapshot of
you leaving?
 
Yes, that’s very true.”

“I’ll sue them.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know.”
 
There had to be something.
 
Defamation of character or libel or
something.
 
Celebrities were always
suing tabloids for things that were really true.
 
Of course, in order to do that you
probably needed lots of big name lawyers.
 
And in order to get lots of big name lawyers, you probably needed lots
of money.
 

“Well, whatever.”
 
Chad had finished his French toast, and
he reached over and forked up a piece of hers without asking.
 
“I tried.”

She looked at him, thinking about it.
 
He was trying to act like this whole
situation didn’t mean that much to him, like it didn’t matter if he signed the
deal with Expera or not.
 
And from a
financial standpoint, it was probably true.
 
When you were making ten million dollars
a year, another ten million on top of it was nice, but definitely not
necessary.
 
He didn’t seem like he
was hurting for money, like some of those professional athletes who ended up
blowing their fortunes and filing for bankruptcy.
 
But still.
 
He wanted that deal with Expera.
 
And he wanted it badly enough to bring
her here, to ask her if she would pretend to be his girlfriend.
 
He needed something from her, and he was
trying to pretend that he didn’t, that he was doing her a favor by keeping her
picture out of the newspaper.

“What’s it worth to you?” she asked suddenly,
the wheels in her head turning.He stopped eating.
 
“What’s it worth to me?”

“Yeah.”
 
She nodded.
 
“How long until
you sign the deal?”