I press my lips to hers, softly. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now we have places to be.” She scrunches up her nose, and I smile, shaking my head before my hands move ot her hips. Lifting her and setting her to her feet. I stand after, rearranging my hard cock to make it less noticeable, but also removing my suit jacket and draping it over my hand, just in case. She watches with an amused smile on her lips, and I roll my eyes.
I stare down at Willa, then dip to give her one last kiss before swiping my thumb over her lip.
“Still perfect.” She smiles sweetly, and I’m tempted to stay in here forever with her. Unfortunately, the sound of Jackie’s voice filters in through the door, and I sigh. “But we’ve gotta go.”
“Jackie’s going to be mad that you wouldn’t make me take more pictures,” she says, nervousness returning to her face, and I hate that this is the kind of reaction her manager pulls from her. I don’t think she’s ready for that conversation any time soon, but one day, we’re going to have to have the very uncomfortable conversation about how poorly Jackie treats her.
For now, I put my hands on her face and force Willa to look at me.
“They can go fuck themselves. I’m your publicist. I know what I’m doing.”
“And what are you doing, Leo?”
“Putting you first. Always.” That pulls a smile onto her face.
“I love you,” she whispers, and whatever remaining tension bleeds from my chest because ofthat. That is why I will jump through hoops for as long as she needs me to. Because at the end of the day, that’s what I get.
“I love you, Willa. Now let’s go meet your new boyfriend,” I say, and despite where we’re headed and the fact that she just had a full-blown panic attack, she lets out a loud laugh, and I know to my soul we’re going to make it through this just fine.
“What the hell is going on?” Jackie asks when we step out of the room together, though I leave a good amount of space between us, forcing myself to fall back intopublicist who is taking care of his client on a professional level. Jackie looks the same as always, if not a bit angrier, though with all the work she gets done, she might be a lot more frustrated than her frozen face lets on. Willa walks right up to her manager, and I expect to see her a bit frazzled still, but instead, I see her shield is locked in place.
Now, she’s the world-wide pop star. America’s sweetheart.
She’s officially on.
“We had an incident,” I say, before Willa can speak. “And I brought her in here to collect herself.” I rack my brain trying to think of some kind of excuse for why I pulled her into a room for any stretch of time, but Willa speaks before I can think of one.
“I had a panic attack,” she says clearly, and for a moment, Jackie’s face softens. I might despise the woman and believe she doesn’t have Willa’s full interests at heart, but I can’t say she doesn’t care for her in some way, shape, or form.
“Are you okay?”
Willa nods, and then Jackie tips her head towards the elevator. We all pile in, headed to the floor where the Perfect Image offices are, and finally, Jackie looks her over.
“That is not what I sent you, Willa,” Jackie says, jaw tight, though her face shows a smile. I don’t have to look her over to know she looks beautiful: a light, almost-white-purple dress with a high neck and long sleeves that flare out a bit, the short skirt doing the same, hitting at her mid-thigh. It’s paired with a pair of high black boots that stop right over her knees. She looks beautiful, the perfect mix of my Willa and the one she normally shows the fans, and I wonder if this is her way of bringing the color she found in Holly Ridge into her Willa Stone world.
“I know, but I saw this the other day and thought it was gorgeous. It’s one of the colors for the new album, so I thought it would be a fun hint for fans to catch.”
“We haven’t discussed the new album yet. The dress you were sent was specifically curated for you and your brand,” Jackie says, and the way she says it with a hint of frustration in her words rubs me wrong, but the way she bosses around Willaalwaysrubs me wrong.
In the past, Willa would have apologized profusely, but she doesn’t. Instead, she lifts a shoulder and holds Jackie’s gaze.
“I decided the colors for the album months ago. I talked to Harper about it, and she’s working on the wardrobe already for it.”
“You didn’t talk to me about it,” Jackie accuses, and Wila gives her one of her sweet smiles, but beneath it is a thin layer of disappointment. I’m not sure if it’s for Jackie’s own frustration or something else.
“You didn’t ask,” Willa says, and I decide that’s where that disappointment is coming from. Willa poured her heart into this album, and I know she created a full mood board for its vision months ago.
“I think it’s smart,” I say, trying to ease the tension that’s brewing in the small elevator. “The fans are excited about a new album, and we can add some color to her outfits before we announce the cover. They love piecing together hints Willa leaves after the fact.”
Jackie’s jaw is tight, and she stares at me, a flash of utter dislike on her face. It’s gone as soon as I catch it, replaced with a pleasant, if not a bit annoyed look before she smiles.
“Well, what’s done is done; they already have photos with you in this piece,” Jackie says with a sigh as the elevator doors slide open. “Come on. Chris is in the office—we snuck him in through the back so as not to seem obvious, but I wanted youtwo to meet before your first date.” She steps out, expecting us to follow, and Willa turns to me, giving me a small smile and wide eyes. I roll mine, then gesture for her to go first.
And then I follow her, like I know I always will, and watch her ass sway with each step.
THIRTY
WILLA
