Erik coughed; his jaw tight. He wasn’t any happier about this than she was. She didn’t know if she should be pleased or insulted that he didn’t want her on the show.
“Are you sure you can’t find someone else? She’s obviously uncomfortable,” Erik said.
That was an understatement.
“Think about it. She’s already signed an NDA. She fits the criteria. You get to choose the Fiancé, so you don’t have to pick her. Who knows, she might be the first one to go.”
The show had the ability to break any ties or kick any contestant off at any time. It wasn’t until the top three that it was solely Erik’s decision to pick who stayed and who went.
“Only if she gets the car and the money,” Erik said.
The no froze on her tongue. The money would be more than enough to pay for the first year of J.J.’s expenses that the academic scholarship wouldn’t cover. While her salary had increased substantially, the bulk of her earnings would come from commissions. Right now, she had one athlete. One. She was drowning in student loan debt and her car was on its last leg.
“Then it’s a yes?” Darius beamed at her, the full bore of his smile sending a tingle into her stomach.
“Darius, please give us a moment.” She had to talk to Erik. He was her client and if he wasn’t comfortable with this, she’d bow out.
Darius walked away, a hand tucked into his front pocket, the other holding his phone. Like Erik, he wore jeans but he didn’t fill them out as well.
She turned her attention back to Erik, more nervous than she cared to admit. “Are you sure—"
“Are you sure?” Erick said at the same time.
Well, they were on the same page for something. Laughing, she shook her head and exhaled. “Go ahead.”
Erik rolled the script that he still held and tapped the end in his palm. “You need a car and he’s offering one.”
“You’re right, I could use the car but that’s my personal problem. I’m your agent. I’m not an actor and I suck at lying.” The nagging voice in the back of her mind refused to stay silent. This wasn’t her dream. It was his. Except helping him succeed would lead to her success. “And yes, Agents have a bad reputation for lying but that’s not me.”
He stared at her; his expression ambiguous. Was he having second thoughts? She resisted the need to shift on her feet. Had she made a horrible mistake by even agreeing to be a contestant? She’d been warned by Howler that the talent would be the most difficult part of the job. Erik was easygoing but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a diva. “If you’re serious, then I’m okay with it,” he said.
“Are you sure? Because I will tell you that—although I have no interest in doing the show—I can’t pass up the prizes.” Honesty was the best way to go. Being a private person, it was hard to bring attention to herself. She wasn’t crazy about being in the spotlight, but she wasn’t in a position to buy a new car right now, and riding the bus late at night would suck. Perhaps she was just plain crazy for agreeing to this. “Yes, I will be on the show, but I want to be kicked off early, if at all possible. And if I make it to the finale, I want your word that you won’t choose me. I mean that would be weird, right? I—”
“Belle, have you decided?” Darius strode over, casting a hopeful glance.
“She’ll do the show,” Erik said. “If she’s in the bottom percentile, she goes first, and if she’s tied with one of the other women, the other woman will stay.”
“I’ll have the attorneys get the documents over tomorrow morning. In the meantime, we need to get Belle into wardrobe. You two keep practicing and I’ll take care of the rest.” Darius squeezed her arm. “You won’t regret this, Belle.”
Tension hung between Erik and Belle for a long moment. He stared down at the script, a tick forming in his jaw.
“Erik, you’re upset.” She bit her lip, panic rising at what she’d agreed to.
He snapped his head up, eyes shuttered and unfathomable. “I am stunned, that’s all. This is a lot to take in.”
“You’re telling me.” She fiddled with the end of her braid. The repercussions continued to bounce inside her head. What would Howler say? He was her boss and she’d be dating a client. Well, not dating. Acting like she was dating a client? “I can’t fathom this either. I mean, we’ll be, um…dating. More like, pretend dating.”
“Dating?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. A spark of humor made its way back into his expression. “I knew eventually I’d wear you down.”
She wrinkled her nose and scuffed her shoe on the floor. For two years, he’d tried to get her to date him. It was coming to pass, but it wasn’t real. There were no feelings involved. There was sexual chemistry. In abundance. “You’re bribing me.”
He shrugged and cast her a sheepish grin. “It’s a nice car.”
“It’s a godsend.” She placed her hand on his wrist and wished she hadn’t. Warm skin lay under her fingers, the hair on his arm soft under her palm. She dropped her hand, confused by her mixed emotional state. “Thank you for insisting on that little perk.”
“You’re welcome. Should we continue on with practicing this?” He lifted the script and unrolled it. His profile to her. Was that a flush on his neck or was it simply the lighting? “What’s the next line?”
Each line proved to be worse than the last. The earlier enthusiasm that she’d carried waned. Tomorrow, she’d walk out of that elevator, accept the charm bracelet from Erik and try to fade into the background.
