“We walk in together. End of story.”
Then he picks up his phone and starts typing furiously. I know what that means. Our conversation is unceremoniously over, and I’m simply going to have to dig deep tonight and do my job.
Thankfully, it’s one of the last orders he’ll ever give me.
Chapter Three
URSULA
I’ve attended a ton of red carpet events before, but for some reason tonight, I’m tense. Maybe because my ankle mishap feels like the start of some bad omen. So, after cleaning up my wound, I take the liberty of cracking open a bottle of Prosecco from Coop’s stash and take a huge swig straight from the bottle.
It’s probably one of the most unprofessional things I’ve ever done, but my excuse is that I’m using it to swallow two ibuprofen gel caps and to quash the uneasiness that’s starting to bloom in the pit of my stomach.
The night has barely begun and already I have an injury, I’ve had a few choice words with Coop, and I’ve been texting the deejay I hired for the afterparty and have received zero response. He should be running a sound check right now, and so far, he’s a complete no show.
Simply craptastic.
I suddenly feel the stares of both men in the car.
“What?!” I blurt out.
“You all right?” Coop asks staring at the bottle in my hand. “You know we have plenty of bottled water in here.”
“I needed something a little stronger to dull the pain. Sue me.”
“Seriously? You’re acting like you broke your collarbone or something. Talk to me about pain when you’ve lived through something like that.”
“It’s rare to find a man so proud ofeverythinghe’s ever done. Even when he breaks a bone getting pulverized on the football field. Isn’t your jobnotto get hit?”
“Make light of it if you want, but they pay me the Benjamins, because I can take a hit or two without crying about it.”
“I know. I know. Your pain threshold is the highest in the land. You’re like the bravest gladiatoreverto have fought on the field of battle.” I roll my eyes for effect. “But how about you come talk to me when you play football in a pair of brand new stilettos. Now that I’d love to see.”
Coop snickers. “Are you drunk off of that one gulp of Prosecco or something?”
“What?! No.”
“Highest pain thresholdin the land. Who talks like that? And gladiators fight in a ring, not a battlefield.”
“Whatever.”
Tito is chuckling to himself up front.
I make sure to cut my eyes at him.
“All I’m saying is that was an expensive bottle of wine to crack open just to take a couple of pills. Right, Tito?”
“A bottle that you just had lying around the car,” I protest.
“To celebratemybig night, not yours.”
Touché.
“True … well … Tito can replace it while we’re in the show. I’ll pay for it, of course.”
“Pay for it?” Coop snickers. “You’re missing the point, but I’m going to let it slide tonight because for some reason I think you’re more nervous about me getting this damn award than I am. I’ve never seen you this … off your game.”
I hurt my ankle and I’m off my game? I take a swig of sparkling wine and I’m off my game? That’s an exaggeration if ever I’ve heard one. I’m never off my game. I have been scheduling and running Coop’s entire life for the last three years without incident. Okay … maybe that’s not exactly true. In the beginning I stunk at this job. I was totally unqualified and scared to death, but I’m fucking fantastic at it now. The nerve of him.
