Eleven Days Before Christmas
What was in it for her?
The headlines after her face-down tackle of Tucker’s crotch said it all.
“Mackenzie Bennett on a Bender.”
“Kenzie: Too Drunk to Dance?”
Her personal life was a paparazzi disaster splashed to hell and back across all mediums, from podcasts to national grocery store checkout-stand magazines. That would be enough to warrant a Hail Mary pass as Tucker’s date du jour, but more than that, her professional life tilted on the precipice of obscurity. Even though she’d barely tipped the scales at thirty, by Hollywood’s standards she was practically elderly. Toss in a couple of box office flops, and things were bad. When she showed up to a few red-carpet events nestled into the great Tucker McKay’s side? Well, for a little while she would be relevant again.
So, what was in it for her?
“I’m a very giving person, and I understand you are in need of some assistance. I’m here to offer that assistance.” That sounded so much better than the reality of the situation.
A little Hollywood-style filtering was all she needed to not sound like a pity case.
A slow grin spread across his lips. “You’re phenomenal at bullshit.”
Indeed, she was. Three of the highest industry award nominations—one win—said the same thing.
“Is that your way of saying I’m a decent actress?” She tilted her head to the side.
His smile faltered. His eyes went dark. He cleared his throat.
“Let’s get to the details.” His manager and the lead on his PR team piped in… What was her name? Jane. No. Janet. No. Jessica. Yes, Jessica.
“You can cut to the contract. I’m good with touching over clothes, kisses on the cheek, hand holding. That’s it.” Kenzie could be firm when she needed to be.
“No kissing on the mouth?” Jessica squinted at her.
The negotiations on these things were always a bitch.
Kenzie crossed her legs and then uncrossed them. “Do I have to?”
“It’s more convincing that way.”
Kissing Tucker wouldn’t be a challenge. Fine. “No tongue.”
“Done.” Tucker smacked the table. His cheeks held only the slightest tint of pink to reveal his discomfort with the negotiations.
He was obviously not an actor. He should learn to control that.
“Jessica? Leah? Mind giving Mackenzie and me five minutes alone to go over specifics?” he asked.
Leah glanced to Kenzie for confirmation.
She nodded. There were a few things she’d like to say to Tucker, anyway.
“I’ll wait in the hallway.” Leah headed for the door, Jessica right behind her.
Tucker unfolded himself, so his full height dominated the room, and he caught the door for them, holding it wide like the gentleman he was not.
The heavy latch clicked closed. He leaned against it, staring at the carpet for two beats.
She waited him out.
His gaze raised to her. Oh damn. This was the Tucker she’d started to fall for, the Tucker she seemed to be powerless against. “I’m sorry.”
