Page 29 of How He Got the Girl
“His agent wants to talk to both of us together about everything going on.”
Her demeanor softens. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” She eyes me warily as I take a deep breath. “So, why do you still look like you just sucked on a lemon?”
“Because that means I have to spend more time withhim.”
“Just until this all gets sorted. Then you can say sayonara.”
I nod. “You’re right. Better to get this over with now.”
Ugh, I can’t even imagine how much more awful this would be if I weren’t on winter break. All my students would be grilling me as if I were a hot dog and it was theFourth of July. Look at me looking at the bright side of things; Shayna would be proud.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself as I type out a response.
ME
I’ll come, but only because I want this all to be over with. You don’t need to send a car. I can drive myself if you send me your address.
Seconds after my message says it’s been delivered, the three little dots of doom appear, letting me know he’s typing.
MR. TOO LATE
Thank you!I’d rather send a car for you. It has tinted windows and someone I trust to keep you safe in case any paparazzi try to find you.
ME
They already found me.
MR. TOO LATE
I’m sorry. I can send a bodyguard as well.
ME
My friend’s boyfriend already scared them off, but I guess you sending acar wouldn’t hurt.
I hate admitting that Griffin’s right, but I don’t know what I’d do if paparazzi followed my car around. I send him my address, and he responds immediately.
MR. TOO LATE
My driver will be there in ten minutes. His name is Ted.
I thumbs-up his message, not wanting to prolong any interactions with him any more than necessary.
Glancing down at my matching sweat set, I consider changing before adamantly telling myselfno. There’s no need to impress Hot Cocoa Man. He doesn’t deserve my time, let alone my cute outfits.
I cuddle with Kelsey’s dog, Winston, on the couch until I hear a car pull up outside. Kelsey hugs me after I slide my feet into my Ugg dupes for the second time today.
“You’ve got this, Mal,” she says with such confidence that I almost believe her.
With one last deep breath, I step away from their embrace and out our front door.
“Don’t let him charm you with empty words. You are Veronica Mallory Porter, and you don’t need a man,” Kelsey yells after me.
I laugh, shaking my head as I approach the waiting car.
The driver gets out and extends his hand. “I’m Ted. You must be Mallory.”
After a quick handshake, I say, “That’s me.”
