“I got it. Jeez. This isn’t my fault.”
Spencer sighed. “I know it’s not, buddy. But would it kill you to have a long-term relationship once in a while? This casual dating thing has to be getting old.”
“We can’t all settle down to married bliss at the age of eighteen.”
“I was twenty-four. And Gwenn and I couldn’t be happier. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
He really didn’t. He hadn’t exactly had the best example in his parents. “I’m not opposed to the idea of marriage; I just haven’t met the right person.” At least that’s what he told himself. It was true, wasn’t it? He was almost sure.
“For now let’s just work on salvaging your reputation. Do you think Chloe will be agreeable? This would also help avert the whole Liam-Daisy love affair that’s bound to be splashed across the gossip sites if you’re not seeing someone else during the filming. If Chloe’s reluctant, maybe I can talk to the studio about letting her coach you a bit. Simone made it clear she’s very particular about the portrayal of your character.”
“You think they’d go for that?”
“I can ask. It would give you more leverage with Chloe, and Patty really liked the idea of a PR relationship. You’ve already got the ball rolling with Chloe.”
He couldn’t imagine the author getting on board with this. She wouldn’t give two figs about salvaging his reputation. But maybe she’d do it for the movie’s sake.
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“You can do it. Just turn on the charm. It’s never failed you before.”
When they got off the phone, Liam recalled his contentious conversation with Chloe in front of the shop. Spencer was grossly overestimating Liam’s appeal.
Chapter5
Chloe had meant to get an earlier start on the day, but she’d stayed up late paying restaurant bills, then lain in bed overthinking. It was a specialty of hers.
She rode the mower across the property she never could’ve afforded on her own, even with her blockbuster novel. The grassy parcel sloped down toward a pier that extended across the salt marsh to the gently flowing Dutchman’s Creek. She enjoyed quiet mornings reading on the pier and paddling her kayak down the lazy creek, all the way to the mouth of the Cape Fear River.
The briny breeze scented the air and shimmied the leaves on the live oaks, their branches sprawling across her yard like a canopy.
“Thanks, Dad.” Sarcasm laced her tone.
Because, yes, Mom had insisted on sharing her lawsuit winnings with Sean and her.“After all, you were his victims too. Why shouldn’t you be compensated?”
The humidity beaded on Chloe’s arms, and sweat trickled down her neck because it was already hades-like at eleven o’clock.
This Liam thing was intruding on her peace of mind. But her midnight ruminations had at least resulted in a solid plan. At ten this morning she’d gotten his number from Simone and called him, her heart jackhammering in her chest because who liked eating crow?
Her apology yesterday hadn’t gone over especially well, and okay, maybe it hadn’t been the best apology ever delivered. It was time to dig deep.
Alas, he hadn’t answered his phone, so she’d simply left a voice mail asking him to return her call. She would’ve been relieved, but he didn’t strike her as the type who returned calls. She couldn’t get that image of his smirking face out of her mind. And those obnoxious sunglasses perched on his nose. He probably thought he was hot stuff with all those gorgeous actresses falling at his feet.
She finished mowing the row and turned at her property line. As she completed the maneuver, a movement nearby startled her. A man.
Liam Hamilton.
She eased her foot off the gas and the mower stalled, sputtering to a stop. He approached wearing shorts and a tee and the aforementioned sunglasses, despite the widespread shade.
“Hello, Chloe.” He’d left his ball cap at home apparently, exposing his famous hairstyle—short cropped at the sides and longer on top with a perfect dark swoop that was apparently unaffected by humidity.
Chloe pushed back the tendrils that had escaped her ponytail. “You could’ve just called.”
He stopped a few feet away and pulled off his sunglasses. “Pardon?”
At least that’s what she thought he said. She was momentarily mesmerized by eyes that were utterly gray. Not greenish or blue-gray but perfectly colorless gray. Which sounded rather boring but in reality was quite striking against his bronzed skin.
Which reminded her that she was makeup-less, frizzy, and, oh yeah, dripping with sweat.
