Page 11 of One Life to Loathe

I just shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I said to Miles. “I’ll do it but … he’s not going to do what’s right for anybody but himself. You know his reputation.”

On the other side of the table, an emotion I couldn’t identify flashed in Leo’s eyes. This time when he spoke, he was calmer. “I’ll go on the tour,” he announced. He drained his drink and then stood. “I’m not holding her hand or kissing her, though. If you can turn a simple tour into buzz for the show, then go for it.”

“Really?” Miles looked absolutely thrilled. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me.” Leo was glum. “Thank her. I owe her for ruining her flight. That’s the only reason I’m doing this. Don’t ask me to do it again either.” With that, he strode away from the table and toward the door, leaving me staring in his wake, dumbfounded.

What in the hell was that?

4

FOUR

Idon’t know what possessed me to agree to the ridiculous tour. All I kept seeing was Sam’s face when I punctured her hope for this project. I remembered having hope for projects at one time. Sure, it was years ago. It was when I lost that hope that I became a miserable son of a bitch, though.

I didn’t want that to happen to Sam for some reason.

So, I agreed to the tour. We would wander around Salem with a guide, smile at one another, and maybe some of her hope would rub off on me. I wasn’t actually opposed to it. I needed the hope. I’d become jaded over the past few years, and it made me intolerable … even to myself. It would take a lot of hope to seep into my cold dead heart.

I had too much to drink, which meant I woke up with a mild hangover. I hopped in the shower and tried to wash away the headache. Then, when that didn’t work, I popped four Advil and headed downstairs. It was still early enough for me to grab breakfast, which was all I was focused on … right up until I walked into the hotel restaurant and found Sam sitting at a table with a woman I found vaguely familiar.

I froze in place, confused, then exhaled heavily and started toward them when I realized exactly who Sam was sitting with. Daisy, the happy-go-lucky hotel worker who had gotten sick of my shit faster than anybody I’d ever met. She was Sam’s partner in crime for breakfast.

“Let me guess,” I said as I reached the table. “You’re our tour guide.”

“Miles sent you an email,” Sam said in a pointed tone as Daisy just stared at me. “Daisy is an expert on Salem. She’s going to teach us a lot.” Now she lowered her voice. “Can you not be a donkey?”

It was the second time she’d used the word to describe me and I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at her in dumbfounded disbelief. “Can you not say the word ‘dick’ or something?”

She rolled her eyes at the question. “Icansay it. I choose not to.”

“And why not?”

“Because you’re a donkey.”

“Youarea donkey,” Daisy readily agreed. She sipped her coffee as she regarded me. “I’m thinking maybe some of the donkey stuff is an act, though.”

“It’s not.” I plopped down in the chair across from them. “I’m a total … donkey.” It was weird saying the word, and yet once it was out, I was amused despite myself. It kind of fit. I was a donkey. I could live with that.

“I think it might be,” Daisy replied. “It doesn’t matter, though. If you’re a donkey—and I’m totally going to start using that word—then I’m going to treat you like a donkey. I don’t care who you think you are. You’re going to show some respect … or at least the bare minimum of manners.”

I liked her sassy attitude. She was pretty too. The huge diamond ring on her finger reminded me she was taken. Notthat I was interested anyway. She wasn’t my type. She was too … settled. I didn’t even know if I had a type any longer. It definitely wasn’t Daisy, though.

It’s her,my inner voice crowed when my eyes briefly landed on Sam.She’s your type.

If I could’ve laughed without looking like a loon, I would have. Samantha Summers definitely was not my type. I needed a brooder. I mean … when I finally decided to settle down. I didn’t need someone who got hyped on a project simply because it was there. I needed someone who didn’t smile all the time.

As if to prove I was right, Sam offered up a small smile when she caught me staring at her, and it did nothing but make my stomach feel as if I were trapped on a roller coaster. That wasn’t a good thing. Not even a little bit.

“Listen, I agreed to be your tour guide because I believe this show is going to do good things for Salem,” Daisy volunteered. She motioned for one of the servers to come to the table. “Get him the Hunter Breakfast with bacon, a coffee, and an orange juice,” she said without waiting to ask if that’s what I wanted. “Make the eggs over-medium,” she continued. “Also, try to make it fast. We’re heading out on a tour, and I don’t have all day to deal with slow-moving actors and their hangovers.”

I couldn’t do anything but stare at her once she sent the server off. “How do you know I’ll even eat that?” I demanded. I had no idea what was in the Hunter Breakfast, but I honestly wasn’t picky when it came to breakfast foods. There was nothing I wouldn’t eat.

Well, except for avocado toast. I had no interest in avocado toast. That was just disgusting.

“You’re going to eat it because you need the fuel to burn off that hangover,” Daisy replied. “I ordered it because I’m not messing around with you. I’m not sure if your bad attitude is because you think it makes you look cool?—”

I snorted. “Yes, I’m perennially trapped in seventh grade,” I acknowledged.

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