Part 118 (1/2)

Despite all this, I wanted to hold Nate until I absorbed some of his pain, and tell him he needs to let go, but as always, he pushed away. The problem is we know more about each other than anybody else ever has - the deepest, darkest parts of our hearts - and that creates a bond we can either accept or twist back into the old antagonism from behind thin walls. I'm not sure which Nate will choose.

35.

RILEY.

My life stays off-kilter but I'm gradually righting myself again. Nate is caged in a do not disturb part of my mind, and the Cole Daniels gala event on Sat.u.r.day fills up all the s.p.a.ce left in my mind.

The event, which is two short days away.

Balancing a takeaway cup of coffee on top of my iPad and files, I push open the ajar meeting room door with my backside.

Mitch.e.l.l jumps up and takes my coffee. ”Careful!”

I set my things on the small table. ”Thanks.”

”Why not make two trips instead of scalding yourself with coffee?”

”I'll be fine. I've perfected this.”

Mitch.e.l.l points at the top of my blouse. ”You spilled.”

I tip my chin down and look at the brown stain splashed across the white s.h.i.+rt. ”c.r.a.p.”

I wipe with my palm and Mitch.e.l.l grabs a tissue from a box on the table. ”Here.”

”I'm good, don't worry.”

Instead, he flashes me the smile that has some of the younger girls laying bets on who'll get into his pants first. I haven't figured the guy out. Is he a flirt or just naturally charming at every opportunity? I often find American account managers more open and friendly than others. Okay, more so than me.

At what point do his politeness and long meetings about the event, with more and more time spent together, become interest?

I brush the front of my blouse as I sit. ”Sorry I'm late.”

”Five minutes isn't late.”

”Haven't you heard? I get upset with people who are tardy.”

He bites his lip. ”I've heard all about you. Best make sure I behave, then.”

With a small smile, I shake my head and pull out the quotes from suppliers. In return for publicity, a few have offered services free; others have offered prizes for the silent charity auction.

”I've amended the last-minute items we still need to attend to.” Mitch.e.l.l leans across the table and pushes a sheet of paper towards me.

I run a finger down the list and pause on an item. ”Wait. What?”

”Something wrong?”

”Win a date with Cole? n.o.body mentioned this.”

”No? Cole agreed which is a huge deal. He never says yes to that kind of stunt. The movie studio is throwing money at this and have pledged a huge donation to the charity in return. They want maximum exposure from now on in. They spent big bucks on casting him.”

I tap a pen on the table. ”You do realise this could turn into a PR nightmare?”

”Why?”

”Really? He's your client. You must know his reputation with the fairer s.e.x.”

Mitch.e.l.l laughs at my expression. ”Very aware, but I can guarantee Cole will have a British celebrity status symbol on his arm.” He waves a hand. ”Besides the winner will probably be a forty-something he wouldn't look at twice.”

I continue checking the list and mutter, ”I hope you're right.”

We're lining our ducks in a row, but ideas like this leave them precarious. On the Ruby Riot support tour, I arranged backstage meet and greets with the band. Usually a complaining Jax, who was working on winning over Tegan at the time, so he never caused issues with female fans. This is different. Cole Daniels is one step above my rock star clients, proud partic.i.p.ant in a s.e.x tape scandal with a co-star. I'd swear he staged it himself, the footage certainly showed his good side, if you catch my drift, which leads to a very dubious side to his character. Is there any way I can fix this compet.i.tion to ensure the winner isn't an attractive girl dazzled by his stardom?

”How about we make it winner and a friend?” I suggest. ”Lessens the chance of him caught misbehaving if there're two of them.”

Mitch.e.l.l's mouth twitches into a smile. ”Or not.”

I pull a face. ”I don't want to know. But what do you think?”

”Sure thing, Riley. I can swing that. The compet.i.tion is drawn on QR Radio tonight; I'll make sure the winner's told she can bring a friend.” His soft acceptance and warm look send me a glimpse of why he's on a few girls' to-do list. ”You never know, it might be a guy.”

I smile. ”Thank you.”

Mitch.e.l.l's help is a mixed blessing. He liaises with the client side of everything, effectively a middleman. Even though I'm less hands-on with clients these days, I'm excited about the opportunity to co-manage everything on the Sat.u.r.day night.

The best part of all this? The event takes up a h.e.l.l of a lot of my time and refocuses my brain from Nate. He sneaks in daily though, at night as I settle into bed when Yorks.h.i.+re plays across my mind. The days I shared a bed with Nate made me realise how much I missed a man at night. Nate. The man will not leave my system; unsurprising, when I haven't had any relations.h.i.+p longer than a couple of weeks for years. Growing close to somebody I spent so much time with was inevitable and the dull ache in my chest won't leave. Why did I let myself fall into this hole again?

Will he be at the gala on Sat.u.r.day? He often avoids these events. If he is, Nate's att.i.tude may throw me off course if he's hurtful. Or he could've changed his mind and have decided I'm the one he wants to help fix his issues.

Oh, look. Here come those delusional thoughts again.

”Riley?” I shake my head. I've missed whatever Mitch.e.l.l told me, the consternation on his face clear. ”You look tired; is everything okay?”

”You know how it is working on events this size. It's on your mind the whole time.” I straighten and sip my coffee.

”Not me. Work needs leaving behind sometimes or you're swallowed up.”

”Mmm. Are we almost done?”

Mitch.e.l.l rubs his mouth as he studies me, his scrutiny discomforting. ”I heard about your situation.”

”Situation?”