without even offering his hand as a thank you.
Trey watched him go, thinking , makes sense to me that Gavin Johnson would be a friend to this kind of jerk.
Jerks of a feather!
CHAPTER 11
Nashville International Airport—Monday evening
Trey extracted his laptop and carry-on bag from the overhead bin and filed out of the plane behind the other passengers. As he made his way through the Nashville terminal to the baggage carousel to retrieve his luggage, Trey caught the eye of a person he recognized as being a well-known country music star.
He wasn’t into country music that much, preferring easy-listening rock, but this was a face he had seen numerous times on the Today show and the Tonight show, so he was surprised the man wasn’t being mobbed, like he had seen celebrities being mobbed in Hollywood. But instead, he was just blending in with the crowd. Although several people obviously recognized him, no one made an effort to approach him.
If that polite attitude is apropos to the laid-back caliber of people in Nashville, I’m going to like it here, Trey decided as he leaned against a column in the baggage area, waiting for the luggage to roll around.
He was unaware that he, like the country music star, had also caught the eye of every female between the ages of fifteen and fifty.
If hormones could have a voice, they would have been singing his praises at that moment. There was a lot of covert flirting going on, with the singular thought among the women of jumping his bones if Trey so much as obliged with a returning smile. But he didn’t even notice. He remained lost in thought while fantasies among the women ran rampant.
Was he a movie star just in from Hollywood? One of the many who seemed to be migrating lately to Nashville? Was he a model?
Trey fit the build of both, with his broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist, his thick, black, slightly longer than usual hair, and his striking sky-blue eyes.
Completely oblivious to the attention he was attracting, Trey was contemplating the right approach to the problem of insinuating his way into Kayla Saradon’s life. That scenario had been uppermost on his mind the entire flight from San Antonio.
All the information he had on her, he’d gotten from the Internet. Everything I’ve found out is sketchy at best. Kayla Quinlan Saradon is successful, rich both in her own right and through inheritance. She’s an anomaly, if you are of the mind that one woman couldn’t possess everything because she seems to, being rich, attractive, and brainy.
In his research Trey had discovered that Kayla had written numerous articles carried in the better magazines and journals on mental health issues. But the one thing that had caught his attention immediately was the fact that Kayla Saradon had been asked on several talk shows but had always declined, stating it wasn’t her cup of tea and just did not fit in with her schedule.
So, one point in her favor is that she isn’t a camera hog. And she could be, with her looks. But what are her other points? Good and bad.
He smiled when he remembered how Dr. Romero had said he believed she had hypnotized his son. He was pretty sure, if the truth be told, that the kid was sick of his domineering father and had found a soft touch in the lady. If anything, J.J. is probably using her.
Being her pool boy and living in her pool house is something a kid would do if he just wanted to zone out and take the time to figure out what he wanted to do with his life at his leisure. And if he has full run of a mansion, well, hell, what kid wouldn’t want that?
Just in the short time they had talked, Trey had decided he would opt for pool boy himself over living with Carlos Romero. But I have a job to do, so I’ll put my dislike for the man aside and do it. How to do it, though—that’s the question.
I could make an appointment and fake some kind of mental disorder, but then I’d be limited to a professional/patient
Trey watched him go, thinking , makes sense to me that Gavin Johnson would be a friend to this kind of jerk.
Jerks of a feather!
CHAPTER 11
Nashville International Airport—Monday evening
Trey extracted his laptop and carry-on bag from the overhead bin and filed out of the plane behind the other passengers. As he made his way through the Nashville terminal to the baggage carousel to retrieve his luggage, Trey caught the eye of a person he recognized as being a well-known country music star.
He wasn’t into country music that much, preferring easy-listening rock, but this was a face he had seen numerous times on the Today show and the Tonight show, so he was surprised the man wasn’t being mobbed, like he had seen celebrities being mobbed in Hollywood. But instead, he was just blending in with the crowd. Although several people obviously recognized him, no one made an effort to approach him.
If that polite attitude is apropos to the laid-back caliber of people in Nashville, I’m going to like it here, Trey decided as he leaned against a column in the baggage area, waiting for the luggage to roll around.
He was unaware that he, like the country music star, had also caught the eye of every female between the ages of fifteen and fifty.
If hormones could have a voice, they would have been singing his praises at that moment. There was a lot of covert flirting going on, with the singular thought among the women of jumping his bones if Trey so much as obliged with a returning smile. But he didn’t even notice. He remained lost in thought while fantasies among the women ran rampant.
Was he a movie star just in from Hollywood? One of the many who seemed to be migrating lately to Nashville? Was he a model?
Trey fit the build of both, with his broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist, his thick, black, slightly longer than usual hair, and his striking sky-blue eyes.
Completely oblivious to the attention he was attracting, Trey was contemplating the right approach to the problem of insinuating his way into Kayla Saradon’s life. That scenario had been uppermost on his mind the entire flight from San Antonio.
All the information he had on her, he’d gotten from the Internet. Everything I’ve found out is sketchy at best. Kayla Quinlan Saradon is successful, rich both in her own right and through inheritance. She’s an anomaly, if you are of the mind that one woman couldn’t possess everything because she seems to, being rich, attractive, and brainy.
In his research Trey had discovered that Kayla had written numerous articles carried in the better magazines and journals on mental health issues. But the one thing that had caught his attention immediately was the fact that Kayla Saradon had been asked on several talk shows but had always declined, stating it wasn’t her cup of tea and just did not fit in with her schedule.
So, one point in her favor is that she isn’t a camera hog. And she could be, with her looks. But what are her other points? Good and bad.
He smiled when he remembered how Dr. Romero had said he believed she had hypnotized his son. He was pretty sure, if the truth be told, that the kid was sick of his domineering father and had found a soft touch in the lady. If anything, J.J. is probably using her.
Being her pool boy and living in her pool house is something a kid would do if he just wanted to zone out and take the time to figure out what he wanted to do with his life at his leisure. And if he has full run of a mansion, well, hell, what kid wouldn’t want that?
Just in the short time they had talked, Trey had decided he would opt for pool boy himself over living with Carlos Romero. But I have a job to do, so I’ll put my dislike for the man aside and do it. How to do it, though—that’s the question.
I could make an appointment and fake some kind of mental disorder, but then I’d be limited to a professional/patient
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