Her hair had escaped its ponytail. She nodded so hard the curls vibrated. “Yes. I—I have to go.” She grabbed her leggings and pulled them on.
“Go?” He frowned. She didn’t sound okay. She sounded freaked out. “Did I do—”
“You didn’t do anything.” She lifted her hips and pulledthe pants on over her hips, tugging her shirt and sweatshirt down over the waistband. Then she pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down to cover her hands. “You were great. Thanks for, um, everything. I’ll— I’ll see you.”
She clambered out of the back seat, and he followed, blinking at the harsh glare of the parking garage, no longer diffused through the windows. He straightened and touched her arm. “Rhiannon.”
“Don’t call me that.” Her snap was loud and stern. She opened the driver’s-side door with jerky motions.
“I won’t.” He kept his tone as gentle and nonthreatening as he could make it. “Rhi. I’m sorry.”
Her shoulders froze, her face in profile. Her words spilled from her lips too fast, like something was forcing them out involuntarily. “My ex was the last person to call me Rhiannon in bed. Things didn’t end well. Guys I hook up with, they use Claire, if they call me anything at all. I didn’t know how much I’d hate it, but I can’t handle you calling me my full name. Especially when we’re intimate.”
His first instinct was to find this mystery ex-boyfriend and punch him in the face, but that wasn’t helpful right now. He raked his hand through his hair. “I’ll call you whatever you want, even if that’s Claire or some other name you haven’t told me yet. Say no more. I didn’t know it was such a big deal, but I hear you. I’ll be more careful.” He dared to rest his hand on her back. Her muscles slowly unclenched.
She faced him, and he was floored at the sheen of tears in her eyes. Rhi put a lot of stock in appearing tough andstrong. She was probably kicking herself for even having this outburst. She wouldn’t like him seeing her cry.
He pulled her in for a tight hug so she could have the illusion of privacy. She rested her face against his shoulder and breathed deeply while he rubbed her back. “I’m sorry. This was an overreaction.”
“No. If it’s important to you, it’s not an overreaction. It’s okay, Rhi.”
At the repetition of her nickname, she relaxed. She pulled away and he gently freed a curl from where it was stuck to her damp lips. He squeezed her shoulders. “Why don’t you go on home. Get some rest?”
Her smile was wobbly, but there. “I will. Thanks for, um. Everything.”
“Thank you.”
Her tone went businesslike and brisk. “I’ll call you about our next meeting.”
He matched her tone with a faint sense of amusement, given where his lips had been a few minutes ago. “Sounds good.” He waved and waited until she’d reversed out of the spot and drove down the ramp before he walked away.
His body was still clamoring for more, but he also felt an odd sense of peace that not even the memory of that drunk calling him a Curse could shake.
This was the best business decision he’d ever made. What an interesting, demanding, adorable puzzle of a woman.
Chapter Thirteen
I’M SOglad you’re here this weekend. Feels like it’s been forever since we’ve gotten to catch up.”
Rhiannon smiled at Katrina, who was sprawled next to her in a lounge chair on the Santa Barbara mansion’s porch. It wasn’t that hot out, but Katrina wore the skimpiest of white sundresses and looked like a voluptuous goddess, her golden flesh spilling out and over the fabric.
“I’m glad I came up for the weekend too.” It was only Thursday, but she could work remotely tomorrow. She’d been feeling guilty over how little she’d seen of Katrina over the past couple of weeks.
She’d been busy, not only with the business, but with Samson as well. They’d shot four of their five videos so far.
Samson’s initial terrible first date with Rachel had gone about midlevel viral, like Rhiannon had thought it would, but in the best possible way. People who had no idea who he was were invested in the bumbling hot former pro athlete, and people who knew of him were awash in nostalgia. As for Rachel, she was doing fine. Samson had mentioned toRhiannon that the aspiring actress was delighted with the free publicity.
They’d already released two of their videos and they’d had good metrics on their social media and a bump in app downloads. As Samson had predicted, they’d both played well to their respective customer bases: a dating ingenue taken under the wing of a cynical romance expert. In fact, the internet was responding so well to Rhiannon’s brand of snark, she’d felt free to get a little spicier on camera. Suzie and marketing had been surprisingly chill.
Except for when she’d said she’d rather gouge her eyes out than be in a relationship with someone. Suzie had edited that part out of the second video and glared at her while she told her to, of course,cool it.
“Have you heard from Annabelle yet?”
“Samson’s been in contact, but she doesn’t want to talk business until she’s stateside, which should be any day now.” Rhiannon had eyed him suspiciously when he’d told her that, because it sounded like a delaying tactic, but he’d thrown up his hands, pulled out his phone, and played a voice mail from Annabelle that was, almost verbatim, what he’d said.
She’d apologized, but oddly enough, he hadn’t seemed terribly put out by her general distrust. It was kind of nice, not to have to explain herself constantly.
“How was the beach yesterday?” Katrina asked.
