That’s true. But we could certainly do something more fun than hauling boxes.??
It needs to be done. You’ll feel more comfortable if you don’t have to face the media directly. It can be a little intimidating if you’re not used to it.
Such a strange life you lead.
Right? I should let you get to bed. Does nine o’clock work?
Sure.
I can bring donuts...
Chocolate, please.??
Chapter11
When Chloe checked the front yard the next morning, only two photographers lingered out by the street. She let the drapes fall and set the table with plates and napkins. A few minutes later the rumbling of Liam’s Camaro alerted her to his arrival.
She unlocked the front door and watched as he shut off and exited the vehicle. The photographers’ voices carried through the screen door as he approached the house.
“Liam, are you dating Chloe?”
“What’s in the bag, Liam?”
“How long have you known her?”
“Can we get a picture of you two?”
“Liam, over here!”
Liam ignored them as he strode purposefully down the walk and hopped onto the porch.
Chloe let him in, then closed the door and leaned against it, palm pressed to her heart. “I don’t know whymyheart’s beating so fast.”
He grinned, clearly not the least bit ruffled. “At least they kept it classy.”
“So that’s how you do it? You just ignore them and go about your business?”
“There are times I smile their way or give a wave, but only when I’m out in public, not when they’re invading my privacy. And be warned, they might try to provoke you by saying something offensive.But just say, ‘No comment,’ or nothing at all. Try to keep your facial expression blank.”
Uh-oh. “Have you met me?”
His expression warmed. “You’ll be fine. Once we start giving them more of what they want in public, they’ll stop coming around here. Well, until your property turns into a set at least.” He held up the sack. “Where should I put this?”
“On the table’s fine.”
She followed him to the dining room. He wore a pair of khaki shorts with a white T-shirt that showed off his muscles and tanned skin. The broad shoulders were impressive too. He must work hard at that physique. She’d bet her favorite handbag there was a six-pack under that tee. No wonder he had such ardent fans.
He turned and caught her staring. Arched a brow.
Her cheeks heated as she turned for the kitchen. “Um, would you like some orange juice? Coffee?”
“Water’s fine.”
She pulled glasses from the cabinets and tried to ignore the way his powerful presence seemed to shrink her house. “The photographers know what kind of car you’re driving now.”
“They would’ve figured it out soon enough anyway.” He glanced around. “Where’s Buttercup?”
She stopped midpour. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot about your allergies. Will you be okay in the garage? Buttercup doesn’t go out there. She’s afraid of the furnace room.”
