“Yeah, thanks, Tips. I’m well aware.”
“Great, then let’s get going. I have shit to do today,” he announces.
While we’re pretending and doing this for the PR, it still doesn’t feel great to be reduced to an item on his daily checklist.
“Congratulations on having shit to do. Now stop talking and lead the way,” I snap.
He gives a lopsided smirk before heading toward the front door. Through the dark glass, I see a small cluster of people waiting where the road meets the pathway. This must be the paparazzi. My hands feel clammy. These people have large cameras in their hands, and they look around like sharks who smell blood in the water.
As I stare at the photographers, Roman steps away to a mirror nearby to do one last check before we step outside. He scrubs at his jaw before checking that his hair is perfectly mussed. Annoyingly, it is. It’s perfect despite the workout. Mine on the other hand? I’m scared to assess the damage my time on the mat has done. Jill may look sweet, but she’s a mean,meanwoman when it comes to leading a workout. I’m sure I’m a sweaty mess.
He feels my gaze on him and sighs. “If pictures are goingto be taken, I might as well make sure I look my best.” He gestures for me to do the same, so I step forward to the mirror and instantly regret it.
Suspicion confirmed, I’m a sweaty goblin. I rub at the bags under my eyes, and like a grandma born in the 1930s, I pinch at my cheeks, trying to infuse a little color. Grumbling when I don’t get the desired effect, I move on to adjusting my messy ponytail. I grimace when I realize that this too can only get so good when I’m in this state. Next time I go anywhere that the paparazzi will be, I know to put in more effort, even stashing some concealer, blush, and lip gloss in my purse or pockets would’ve helped exponentially. As I start mentally picking apart my appearance, Roman places his hands on my shoulders and pulls me away.
“Cut that out,” is all he says.
I glare at him. I hadn’t even verbalized anything, but he clearly picked up on what was happening inside my head. At least to some extent.
I sigh, straightening out my workout top, hoping at least my boobs look good. That’s gotta count for something, right? I look up at the mirror again and catch his gaze lingering on the spot I was adjusting.
“Roman Everett…” I scold, “were you just checking me out?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Ms. Daly.”
“Sure, sure.”
He ignores me and blasts straight on to a new subject, as close to an admission of guilt as I’m going to get from him. “Before we officially kick this off, we need to talk about how we’re going to behave on set,” he says.
“I plan on behaving professionally, is that too much of a struggle for you?”
“On the contrary,sweetheart,” he smiles, and the nickname makes my stomach do a little dip. “I want to make sure we’reon the same page for how we’re interacting with one another in front of the cast and crew.”
“What do you mean?”
“If reports come out about us being an item, and we look like a couple off set, but on set we’re cold and distant, no one’s going to buy us being in a relationship.”
“So, we’re essentially lying to our colleagues?” I deadpan. This keeps getting worse.
“I wouldn’t call it lying per se…” he says.
“Really?” I ask, eyebrows ready to hit my hairline.
“Would you call all acting lying?” he counters.Damn. The bugger has a point with that one. I decline to answer, instead giving him an eye roll that confirms I acquiesce. “Look, think of it as an extension of the role, that’s really all it is.”
“Lucky me.”
His silky laugh wraps around me, and I have to work hard to tamp down the delight I feel at hearing that sound. For such a dickish personality, he has a beautiful laugh. The kind that makes you want to respond with a smile and laugh of your own.
“I’ll have you know there are plenty of women who’d kill to be in your place,” he says before crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“And yet poor little Roman Everett got stuck with me, how unfortunate for him.”
“Now you’re understanding, Daly,” he says and gives me a quick pat on the shoulder like a fucking boy scout before heading to the door. “Follow my lead.” And just like that, Roman exits the building.
Chapter Sixteen
CLOVER
