Page 67 of Not the Bodyguard's Princess
Andrew shook his head. “No, we’re both good.”
“I wish I could have witnessed this chat.”
Andrew’s face grew pink.
“Are you blushing?” asked Jordan.
“No.”
“Now I’m curious.”
“You might not like it. He agreed to let me stay until your agent and publicist decide what to do about the video. Even though it isn’t viral, it’s still out there. Claiming me as a boyfriend may work out better than a denial. After all, you were not scantily clad. And nothing other than the out-of-character crawl is scandalous about the clip.”
“But I asked you to leave. Would you stay and pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Andrew turned one of the kitchen chairs backward and straddled it. “Am I pretending?”
“I dumped you.”
“Did you, or were you scared of continuing?”
Jordan took a deep breath. She was terrified. Their relationship had no script. “I don’t know where continuing goes.”
“No one ever does. Life isn’t a movie script.”
She mulled Andrew’s answer over. “I dumped you just ten hours ago. Doesn’t it make me fickle to ask you back?”
Andrew folded his arms across the back of the seat and rested his chin on them. “Did you want to dump me this morning, or was it a reaction to the video?”
Jordan doodled on her grocery list. “I’ve missed you all day and wished I could have a do-over.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “May I?”
“Have a do-over?”
She nodded.
“I’d like that.” He smiled, and they sat in silence.
The sense of unbalance Jordan had carried with her all day started to fade. Andrew reached over and took her hand.
“Back to the video kiss...” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.
Jordan closed her eyes and thought about the kiss Storm had orchestrated. Chances were, the censors would be hard-pressed to give the kiss a PG-13 rating. “You’re right.” Jordan found the contact number for Donetta. “Hey, it’s Jordan. I have an idea, or rather, we have an idea. I think I should just claim Andrew is my boyfriend and say he was helping me rehearse a scene. That the video was a joke.”
“What good would that accomplish?”
“It kills the story, and it’s true.”
“What?” asked her agent.
“I’m dating my former bodyguard. The only story in the video is me acting very un-me-ish. There are probably five actresses who’ve posted more risqué selfies of themselves in the last hour. We take away the story, and it dies.”
“Hmmm. I like it. Would he be comfortable with a few candid shots? A walk in the park or something?”
Jordan looked at Andrew before answering. “I think we can do that.”
“Get me two photos ASAP in two different outfits and locations, and I can make this story die. You actually dating someone is news.”
Jordan hung up the phone. “Could you hear that?”
