Page 60 of My Turkish Fling
He was clearly passionate about filmmaking, and I couldn’t hold that against him. Maybe I needed to re-evaluate my first impression.
As Emir approached, Gus stiffened. He shifted closer to me, pointing at something on the screen. I leaned back as much as I could while still paying attention to the clip of aerial footage, which honestly didn’t look that different to an earlier clip he was comparing it to.
In different circumstances, I might have flirted a little, to keep him at ease. But I felt Emir’s gaze on me. He was fighting hard to not show his reaction, but the air fizzled with tension.
“Thank you, Gus. We’ll be in touch.”
My smile was genuine as I shook his hand and guided Emir towards our car. I held my breath until I sat behind the wheel, doors closed.
“Are you okay?” Emir’s voice was low, filled with concern. “Did he try something? I should have stayed with you, but I was afraid I’d end up slapping that beard off his face.” The muscle in his jaw ticked.
I gave a shaky laugh. “No. He’s just passionate about films, waffled on and on. Honestly, I think I may have been too hard on him. He’s not a bad guy, just a bit awkward.”
Emir scoffed. “I get that you try to see the best in everyone, but he’s—”
“Obnoxious, yes. But so were you when we first met. If I didn’t choose to see the best in everyone, I would have missed out on those smiles you were hiding.”
I glanced at him, and my stomach wobbled at the mix of emotions on his face—jealousy shifting to embarrassment, then a ripple of joy. I wanted to bottle it.
“You shouldn’t assume everyone has good intentions.” Emir smoothed his indigo dress shirt.
He seemed to dress up rather than down, on most occasions. In my linen top and jeans, I felt almost too casual to be seen with him. Yet I wanted to be seen with him. The thought hit me out of nowhere, followed by a smack of nerves. Could I risk a public outing?
“I’m starving,” I said tentatively. “Should we stop for lunch somewhere?”
He gave me an intense look. “Let’s. I need to talk to you.”
The way he said it immediately released every winged creature hanging about in my stomach. Bats. They were probably bats,hanging upside down in a hollow dungeon. The butterflies of my youth wouldn’t have survived.
I wasn’t ready for this talk. We had to keep things casual, at least on the surface, for as long as possible. On a whim, I pulled over at a cheap little roadside bakery. With the afternoon sun hanging low, we were approaching dinner time, and I couldn’t let this turn into a romantic dinner.
Casual. I could do casual.
“Let’s grab pies or something.”
He cast a suspicious look at the peeling vinyl stickers on the shop window. “If that’s what you want.”
I skipped out of the car and into the bakery, trying not to show my distaste as I saw everything in the cabinet was packaged in glad wrap. I wasn’t a big fan of pie, either. Or rather, my digestive system wasn’t. But I had to feed those bats—they were going crazy in their hollow cave, making me feel far too much.
An old guy sitting by the door in dirty boots perked up. The sneer on his beefy face told me he’d recognized me. As seen on TV, buddy. Except I was older now, thus looked older, which some idiots felt like they needed to mention to my face. I hoped he wasn’t one of them.
People who watched me on TV felt like they knew me. It was an occupational hazard I couldn’t change. Normally, I would have been careful, smiling just enough to not seem rude. I knew how to deal with it. I’d been doing it for years.
But that day, I stepped into the bakery with a Turkish bodyguard in tow. I felt volatile, yet somehow invincible.
“Janie Andrews! As I live and breathe!” The man bellowed at me, standing up as if he’d been sitting there, expecting me all day.
I grinned back and curtsied. “Here I am. Excuse me…” I circled his rather large form to get closer to the glad-wrapped food items.
Emir stopped at the doorway, observing the situation.
“What do you want?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Anything.”
His tone was cautious, his gaze on the gentleman who’d followed me to the sandwich cabinet. I felt Emir’s protective presence, only a few feet away, and it made me brave. A wide smile spread across my face.
“So, you’re keeping it tight,” the man said, nodding appreciatively as his eyes swept down my body. “That’s a spankable ass right there.”
