“I wasn’t running anything then. I was wet as hell behind the ears. Kind of intimidated being in the same crowds as multi-millionaires who have been in the industry for years.”
“You were repping A-list celebs that early on?”
“No. But I still had to show up to things like photoshoots and make travel arrangements. The grunt work for the upper-level reps. I was in the same rooms as the celebs, but not their inner-circle or anything.”
“That was fun for you?” he questioned, giving me a sideways glance.
“It was. For a time. A long while, actually. I liked my job.”
“You used the past tense,” he pointed out.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. He was right. I unintentionally talked about my enjoyment of my job in the past tense.
“It changed. I don’t remember when, but something shifted. I went from working with artists whose work I respected to people who were famous for having a large following on social media. Not that many of those influencers aren’t talented in their own right. Many are. But not all. Anyway, it gets draining dealing with other people’s dramas all the time. I could tell you some stories.”
“I bet you could.”
I shook my head, smirking. “I’ve broken up fistfights between wives and mistresses of Hollywood actors. Had to bail stars out of jail and do my level best to keep their infractions out of the public eye. It’s not a bad way to make a living, but it definitely can impede on my own private time.”
“How so?”
The interest I heard in his voice spurred me to keep going.
“Many nights, I’ve been called out of my bed to some location and retrieve one of our clients. Or, to keep them from making a public ass out of themselves. It’s almost like a continuous loop of solving problems and fixing messes.”
“Like Olivia Pope.”
I giggled. “Don’t tell me you were aScandalfan?”
“Was? I still am. I’m behind a few seasons.”
“Get outta here. I loved that show. When I could catch it. And yeah, I never worked in DC or politics, but there were some aspects of the show I could relate to with my job.”
“I bet.”
“What season are you on?”
“Three.”
I let out a whistle. “You’re really behind.”
“Been kind of busy with a certain case … and woman.” Another sideways glance. This one had a little sizzle in it.
My nipples hardened, recalling the ways in which we spent our nights. It didn’t leave a lot of time to watch television.
“We’ll have to get you caught up on the show.”
“Is that a promise?”
“I don’t make promises.”
“You will for me.”
My head shot backward at the boldness of his declaration. “Someone’s got their ass stuck up pretty high.”
Tossing his head back, Micah let out a laugh. The sound sent a warmth that crackled through my body. My nipples hardened so much that they began to feel painful, pushing against the material of my bra.
“How much longer until we get to the hotel?” I questioned, squirming in my seat a little.
