Page 49 of Home Coming

Quinn raised his gaze to hers. “That’s what Xander said.”

She breathed in then let it out. “Good Morning, America… That show is pretty huge.”

He nodded. “Must be since even I’ve watched it.”

“That kind of exposure would be really good for my career.” Amazing, actually. The kind of publicity you couldn’t buy.

He tipped his head. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Maybe I… should do it?”

“If you want to, sure. You should. Do it.” He shrugged.

“Okay. I’ll do it. But I already told Xander no.” Now that she’d made the decision, the panic hit. What if it was too late?

What if he’d already called the producers and told them she’d said no? What if they’d already filled the slot with another interview? And even if they didn’t, she’d look like a capricious diva, changing her mind every two minutes.

“Call him back,” Quinn said simply, as if she hadn’t just screwed up the biggest moment in her life.

“Okay. I will.” Her hands were shaking so badly, her mind spinning so fast, she couldn’t even do the simplest thing. Couldn’t find him in her contacts to call him back.

Where the hell were her recent calls on this damn phone?

Most of her waking moments were spent staring at her cell, but now when her life depended on it she couldn’t even make a simple phone call? She found her contact list but it was alphabetical by last name.

What was Xander’s last name again?

What the hell? How could she not remember?

One big strong hand blocked her view of her screen as Quinn plucked the cell out of her trembling hands.

He tapped the screen a few times, then pressed the cell to his ear. After what was probably just a few seconds, but felt more like two eternally slow minutes, Quinn said, “She’ll do it.”

She watched as he remained quiet for a moment. She’d do anything to hear what was happening on the other end of that line.

Finally, Quinn said, “Text Bailey the info for that hotel suite.” Then he held out the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

Relieved but still shaking she said, “Hello?”

“Never let that man go.”

She cut her gaze to Quinn before saying, “Um, what?”

“Whatever it costs, make sure he doesn’t leave.”

“Why?”

“Besides the fact he’s a miracle worker, have you been on social since that radio interview?”

The radio interview?

Quinn wasn’t even in the room with her for that. She might have been less flustered—felt less ganged up upon by the three DJs, if he had been.

“No, I haven’t. Is it…is it bad?”

“Hell, no, it’s not bad. It’s great. Your fans love him. The way he protected you from the paparazzi. They’ve got you two practically married off.”

“Oh.” She swallowed hard, very thankful Quinn couldn’t hear what Xander had said. “I guess that’s good.”

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