how she would handle their presence and intrusive questions, but when she’d arrived, it had dawned on her that although she was divorced, not much else had changed, least of all her normal reaction to the paparazzi. Annoyance.
What could they possibly find interesting about her standing on a street corner? Hadn’t they exacted their pound of flesh yet? When the photos had emerged of her ex-husband kissing his co-star after she’d caught them in bed together, she’d been devastated. The celebrity gossip bloggers and reporters, on the other hand, had pounced, granting interviews to any woman claiming to have slept with Keith.
She understood that they were doing their job, but their eagerness to unearth dirt still grated. Dirt got web hits, and they didn’t care who got hurt in the process. In order to maintain some dignity and not play into their hands, she’d had to maintain a sunny disposition or else the already intense speculation and attention would ramp up another ten degrees. So she’d smiled even as her world had been collapsing around her. She’d refused to let them get the best of her then. She wasn’t going to let them win now.
Ignoring the shouted questions and camera clicks, she moved closer to the curb as the valet came around the corner in Alex’s Range Rover. The driver hopped out, accepted the tip from Alex, and walked around to open the passenger-side door. “Thanks for dining with us, Ms. Chambers.”
She climbed in. “Thank you,” she said, and with a wink, the valet shut the door behind her.
Alex got in and eased the car out into the street. “What am I going to do now? I have to figure something out quick.” He shifted in the leather seat like he was trying to harness the restless energy flowing through him.
“ We have to figure out something,” she said. “Don’t sound so down. We haven’t lost yet. We have to find another way, that’s all.”
“You’re right, but to be so close and not close the deal is killing me.”
“I know, but we can’t give up. You’re too stubborn to give up.”
He shot her a quick grin. “Damn straight.”
His confident look eased her own doubts. “I’m so positive he’ll pick us that I’m willing to put some money on the line.”
“Yeah? How much?”
“Ten bucks.”
She expected him to laugh at the paltry amount. Instead, he said, “Yeah,” in a distracted tone of voice, his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. The SUV picked up speed.
Fliss frowned. “Alex, what’s going on?”
“I think a couple of cars are following us.”
She looked behind her but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just the regular, congested evening traffic. But Alex wasn’t one to sound false alarms.
He shifted the car to the lane to his left. A beat-up white sedan dodged around the car in front of it to stay behind them. She turned and glanced out the passenger-side window. The man in the car next to her was leering at her. His window rolled down, and a long-lens camera poked out of the opening. Ugh. A photographer. Why wasn’t he satisfied with the shots he’d gotten at the restaurant?
She made a sound of disgust. Because he’d been surrounded by other paparazzi all getting the same shots. His photos weren’t special enough. Or he wanted to know why she and Alex, the co-owners of Crescendo, were having dinner with Phillip.
Or maybe the photographer suspected something more was going on between them. Who knew? At least the SUV’s tinted windows allowed for a measure of privacy. A prolonged, strident honk caused her to jerk her head around in time to see the driver behind them shoot between two other cars to crowd in on Alex’s side. He ignored the white markings on the pavement and swerved into their lane, barely missing the Range Rover. A black truck sped up directly behind them. If Alex slammed on his brakes, the truck would undoubtedly plow into them.
“Jackasses. Don’t they realize they’re putting everyone in danger?” Alex
What could they possibly find interesting about her standing on a street corner? Hadn’t they exacted their pound of flesh yet? When the photos had emerged of her ex-husband kissing his co-star after she’d caught them in bed together, she’d been devastated. The celebrity gossip bloggers and reporters, on the other hand, had pounced, granting interviews to any woman claiming to have slept with Keith.
She understood that they were doing their job, but their eagerness to unearth dirt still grated. Dirt got web hits, and they didn’t care who got hurt in the process. In order to maintain some dignity and not play into their hands, she’d had to maintain a sunny disposition or else the already intense speculation and attention would ramp up another ten degrees. So she’d smiled even as her world had been collapsing around her. She’d refused to let them get the best of her then. She wasn’t going to let them win now.
Ignoring the shouted questions and camera clicks, she moved closer to the curb as the valet came around the corner in Alex’s Range Rover. The driver hopped out, accepted the tip from Alex, and walked around to open the passenger-side door. “Thanks for dining with us, Ms. Chambers.”
She climbed in. “Thank you,” she said, and with a wink, the valet shut the door behind her.
Alex got in and eased the car out into the street. “What am I going to do now? I have to figure something out quick.” He shifted in the leather seat like he was trying to harness the restless energy flowing through him.
“ We have to figure out something,” she said. “Don’t sound so down. We haven’t lost yet. We have to find another way, that’s all.”
“You’re right, but to be so close and not close the deal is killing me.”
“I know, but we can’t give up. You’re too stubborn to give up.”
He shot her a quick grin. “Damn straight.”
His confident look eased her own doubts. “I’m so positive he’ll pick us that I’m willing to put some money on the line.”
“Yeah? How much?”
“Ten bucks.”
She expected him to laugh at the paltry amount. Instead, he said, “Yeah,” in a distracted tone of voice, his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. The SUV picked up speed.
Fliss frowned. “Alex, what’s going on?”
“I think a couple of cars are following us.”
She looked behind her but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just the regular, congested evening traffic. But Alex wasn’t one to sound false alarms.
He shifted the car to the lane to his left. A beat-up white sedan dodged around the car in front of it to stay behind them. She turned and glanced out the passenger-side window. The man in the car next to her was leering at her. His window rolled down, and a long-lens camera poked out of the opening. Ugh. A photographer. Why wasn’t he satisfied with the shots he’d gotten at the restaurant?
She made a sound of disgust. Because he’d been surrounded by other paparazzi all getting the same shots. His photos weren’t special enough. Or he wanted to know why she and Alex, the co-owners of Crescendo, were having dinner with Phillip.
Or maybe the photographer suspected something more was going on between them. Who knew? At least the SUV’s tinted windows allowed for a measure of privacy. A prolonged, strident honk caused her to jerk her head around in time to see the driver behind them shoot between two other cars to crowd in on Alex’s side. He ignored the white markings on the pavement and swerved into their lane, barely missing the Range Rover. A black truck sped up directly behind them. If Alex slammed on his brakes, the truck would undoubtedly plow into them.
“Jackasses. Don’t they realize they’re putting everyone in danger?” Alex
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