Page 15 of All of You

“Well, I guess that answers that.”

She pulled out her phone once again, then angrily flew through the process of shutting it down.

“Do you need to make a call or something?” Whatever was going on with her phone seemed persistent.

“No. But listen, what do you think?” She sat up straight, angled to face me.

“I think… sure. I guess my gut response is, why not? But I suspect you’ve thought about this a whole lot more than I have.”

She nodded. “I have, and my team has. And it’s not without benefits for you. I want you to understand that. It’s going to be a big fat hassle dealing with the press, and essentially lying to your friends and family—because you cannot tell anyone the truth, and I’ll need you to sign some legal documents to that effect—but I have some bonuses.” She gave me a determined look.

What bonuses and incentives would I want from this woman? That train of thought was a dangerous one…

“Okay. Good to know…”

“So, for one, you’d probably come on tour with me in a few weeks, if you can swing that with your work. I know that’s not always possible, but Reese usually gets a few weeks at Christmas. He’s always traveling over Christmas.”

“True. We usually have block leave at Christmas. Since I had last year at home for it, I’m guessing my mom will survive my absence. I was going to go home at Thanksgiving, so maybe we can just celebrate early.”

“Think about that. Really think about it, okay? I don’t want you to say yes to this and then regret it. My biggest fear is doing something like this and having it come out as a negative for either of us, but especially you because you don’t have much to gain from this except a few fun events and some travel.”

“I’m sure I’ll?—”

“Listen. I want you to think about it tonight. If you can, I want you to come to the house tomorrow, and I’ll have the contract drawn up so you can see what you’d be signing. And we’ll go through all of the boundaries and rules or whatever—both mine and yours. And if any of it makes you uncomfortable or you feel like it’s a raw deal for you, we bag it. Does that sound okay to you?”

She’d stood, and so had I, so we were standing a foot apart. Since she was wearing sneakers, I got to appreciate how small she was, but even though I was staring down at her and she was looking up at me, she seemed larger than life.

“Sure. Okay. Give me directions to your place, and tell me what time. I’ll think it over, and we’ll figure it out tomorrow.” A dazed quality tinged my voice.

Standing up and facing her had sharpened the dream-like sensation of the last few minutes. If it were a dream, I’d probably lean down and steal a kiss, just to see if she tasted minty and sweet like she smelled. But this wasn’t a dream, and nothing about our interactions had told me she’d welcome the advance, never mind the fact that I couldn’t imagine actually making a move on Whit Grantham.

There was that, and the promise I’d made myself. I’d respect myself and women enough not to do the things I’d done when I first got back—when I did anything I could to block out the misery of Jones’ loss. Knowing I’d cut the drinking to virtually nothing and never for self-medicating, that I’d given up losing myself in women whose names I never knew—that helped the risk here feel less intense.

But even now, I could guess that just being in a room with Whit would test that promise to keep the physical element of a relationship out of the equation—at least that most intimate act—until I’d committed for life.

“Okay. Good.”

She moved to the door with keys in hand and pulled her hat lower over her eyes. “Make a list of questions. Make a list of things you’d want or wouldn’t want. Think about what would make this worth it to you, and just… think about everything. I’m sorry I have to go, but this is good. Think, and message me with questions if they come up, and we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Whit

Ahorrible thought had occurred to me at about six the next morning.

@WhitGranthamOfficial: You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?

I’d heard nothing for hours. Not ’til eight. Then,

@TheRealBenHolder: I wouldn’t have agreed to meet you at my apartment if I did, let alone go with you to the gala last weekend. So no. No girlfriend. Not dating anyone. Coast is clear.

Something about that made me feel… good and bad all at once. Good that Ben was the kind of man that wouldn’t go around meeting with women who weren’t his girlfriend if he’d had one. It also made me feel bad, but I couldn’t pin down why. Maybe because I hadn’t even asked him to begin with before making my proposition.

The rest of that day, my mind went through all he might say when he arrived. He’d seemed shocked, but open to the idea. Exactly what I’d hoped for, but still, the urge to talk him out of it lingered. For some reason, as soon as Nikki had suggested the idea, a horrible swirling of guilt and dread had started in my gut, but I’d ignored it.

As usual, my determination to achieve my goals had outweighed the potential consequences.

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