“Shoot—I should call Aspen and warn her.” Mark made a face. After spending the day with Allie, speaking with Aspen was like taffy that had been left in the sun—clingy and not at all appetizing.
“I already shot her an email when the first image came in. I’m supposed to meet with her agent for coffee.”
“Have I told you how wonderful you are?”
“I’d love to hear it again.”
“You’re amazing.”
“Yep. I’m going to write a press release to explain what really happened with the hotel. I’ll take the blame for that one. I still feel bad. You’ve got
the annual dinner for Waters without Borders next week, and we don’t want all this drama to take away from that.”
“Got it,” replied Mark with a firm nod.
“Mark?”
“Yeah?” He grabbed his keys.
“You’re right about Allie—she’s not the type to stir this up.” “No, she’s not.”
“You’ve got to help her—she’ll drown in all this.”
“I’m on my way to pick her up right now.”
“You can’t go there right now. I’m sure there’s press all over the place.” Mark groaned. If he went charging in like a bull with a burr in its tail, he’d only feed the sharks. “What are we going to do?”
“Meet me at the office.”
“I’m saying it again—you’re wonderful.”
“Well, up until now, you’ve been an ideal boss. If you stir up much more trouble I may have to quit.”
“Empty threats.”
She laughed and they said goodbye.
The pictures were bad, a small scandal he could do without for Chloe’s sake, but nothing they couldn’t contain. Except that he really needed to not just seem stable, but really be that kind of a dad for his daughter. Was he putting his own desires before the welfare of his child? The thought plagued him as he drove through Atlanta towards Kate’s office. If this was going to blow over, he’d need to handle the press just right or the whole situation could blow up in his face. Not only would the paparazzi poison his relationship with Allie, they’d ensure that he never got full custody of his daughter.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Allie couldn’t help the stupid big smile plastered across her face as she smoothed out the wrinkles on her favorite Sunday dress. Her lips had done little else besides smile since Mark’s kiss. How would she ever let another man touch her lips after experiencing a moment like that? She couldn’t. Mark was the guy for her. She knew exactly how silly and stupid she sounded, but she didn’t care. She’d meant what she said yesterday—he was different. Different from what she imagined a movie star to be like; different from all the other men she’d had in her life; different in the best of ways.
She giggled and pressed her fingers to her mouth as she opened the street door on her way to church.
Cameras clicked and flashes blinded her. She put her hands in front of her face, confused by the onslaught. “What’s going on?” she asked the man next to her holding his phone in her face.
“Is it true that you had lunch with Mark Dubois?” His tone was accusatory, like sharing a meal was a crime and she’d been tried and convicted.
Her defensive mechanisms kicked in. “Yes, but it was for charity.” “Did you spend the night with him?” asked a woman with impossibly thin lips.
She hesitated. “No, I mean, not really. Not in the way you’re implying.” “How does it feel to be the other woman?” asked a balding man whose shirt buttons were tested to their limits by his pot belly.
“Now see here—”
Just as she was about to set the record straight, Kate pushed through the crowd and hooked her arm around Allie.
CHAPTER TWELVE
