Page 65 of Fiery Romance

So I keep my tone light and flirtatious. “I guarantee you my face is more beautiful than my voice.”

“Oh I know,” he says. “I’ve been missing you so much, babe.”

“Me too.” I slide my nails over the inscription in my steering wheel. My chest expands on a big inhale. The new car smell has a hint of a minty undertone. For some reason, it reminds me of Bolton.

“By the way, I wanted to ask, what happened with that buffoon? The guy who barged into your shop yelling and stuff.”

My throat pulls tight.

Is he talking about Clay? Right now? When I do not want to think about Clay at all?

“It was so hard for me to stay put when I heard your voicemail. I wanted to climb into a plane and fly over there to teach that guy a lesson. How dare he yell at my girl?”

“He didn’t really yell at me,” I mumble, blinking rapidly. “It was more like… a heated discussion.”

“Oh? Now you’re defending him.”

“No, I’m not.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.” Taz chuckles. “Normally, you’d rip jerks like that to shreds. You’re scary when you want to be, girl. That’s why I’m glad you’re on my side.”

I chuckle nervously.

“I guess that matter worked itself out.”

Only if you call driving around in his car, picking up his kid and confiding in him about our open relationship ‘working out’.

“Definitely. Yup. All worked out.”

“So, is anything else going on?” Taz asks. “I know we have a lot to catch up on.”

I lean forward. “Actually, a few nights ago, someone broke into one of my—”

There’s a loud crash on his end of the line.

I jump. “What was that?”

“Oh, just the filming crew cat.” He sounds distracted. “Babe, hey, sorry. I need to clean this mess up.”

“You can stay on the phone and clean,” I suggest hopefully.

“Uh, actually, there’s an emergency meeting for the filming tomorrow.”

“What? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah, I had no idea.”

“Oh.” My shoulders sag in disappointment. “I understand.”

“I’ll call you back tonight. Promise.”

My heart sinks. I’ve heard those words before and, nine times out of ten, I don’t get a call back.

My lashes fluttering rapidly and my throat about to collapse on itself, I squeeze out a chirpy, “Sure. Of course. Go do your thing.”

“Okay. I love you. You know that, right? No matter what, I’ll always love you.”

“Love you too,” I say. But the words leave me feeling hollow rather than comforted.

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