Page 38 of Holly Freakin' Hughes

“Oh,of course,” I laughed, floating somewhere in a dream world. “You’re thatunlikely guy the girl becomes best friends with in a chick flick.”

“Doesn’tshe usually end up with him in the end?”

“Yes,but this isn’t a movie,” I pointed out, dropping my eyes to Anna as she climbedinto my lap, reminding me again that she was there.

“Thisis true,” he said withaunreadable twitch of hislips, shuffling his feet. “But, uh, best friend, huh?”

“Well,obviously,” I said, suddenly shy as I adjusted the pigtails in Anna’s hair.

Brandoncrouched next to me. “Well, as far as ladies go, you are hands-down the bestfriend I’ve ever had, and coming here to do absolutely nothing with you is thehighlight of my life.” He took one of my hands and kissed my knuckles, bringingthe fluttering of butterfly wings to life in my stomach.

God,I need to get laid.

“Youlead a boring life.” I giggled like a nervous little girl as he stood back up.

“Ifthis is boring, then I’m not sure I ever want things to pick up again,” hesaid, turning to walk away. “See you Thursday.”

Shamelesslywatching his ass in those beautifully fitted jeans, I made a mental note to letLiz know I wanted Mark to set me up with that buddy of his.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

BRANDON

Iwalked through the dinerfeeling inconspicuous in my sunglasses as Iusually did during daylight hours, much like Clark Kent feels that his flimsy disguisewill hide his true identity. And like Clark Kent, the disguise always seemed towork.

Ididn’t have to wait to be seated, knowing exactly where I was headed, and Islumped into the secluded booth in the back. Nick sat across from me, lookingboth peeved and intrigued.

“You’renever late,” he stated, not looking up from a pile of paperwork.

“Losttrack of time talking to Scott.” I picked up a menu, hoping my casual demeanorwould set him off the trail. It seemed to work as he nodded and pushed hisglasses back up the slope of his nose.

Adiner outing with Nick normally would have been casual. We would havebullshitted about this and that, he would’ve given me the lowdown on the wifeand kids, and I would smile and nod, having not much to add to the conversationmyself. But this was a business meeting, and Nick meant business.

Hepulled a sheet of paper out from the stack, adjusting his glasses once againbefore peering down at his chicken scratch handwriting.

“So,there was a call the other day from Burberry. They want you for theirFall/Winter collection next year. It is—and I quote—inspired heavily by thesensuality of leather. I have no idea what the hell that might actually mean.Sounds a little kinky to me, but I told them we’d discuss details. Totally upto you if you want to go for it, but I think you should hear them out. It’sbeen a couple years since you’ve done any mainstream modeling work, and itlooks good for you. Keeps you in the spotlight. Keeps people talking.”

Oh,how ironic, I thought, after just being involved in the modeling conversationwith Holly.

“Thesensuality of leather?” My imagination blazed a trail with every image I couldmuster from my curious college days with BDSM porn. “I’m not wearing one ofthose freaky masks.”

Nicksnorted a laugh, raising an open palm in the air. “Dude, I have no idea. I justanswer the calls and take the notes. You could, you know, hire someone else tohandle this shit. Like, oh, a publicist or an assistant or ...”

“Yeah,but that’s part of my charm. Small town guy, small town crew.”

“Ididn’t know that was a thing,” Nick muttered.

“Oh,it totally is,” I said, nodding insistently. “I don’t need a circus of peoplewhen I have you.”

“You’renot going to have me after I have a stroke,” he pointed out before reading offthe other items on the laundry list of messages: I had pending interviews withPeople,GQ, andWriter’sWorld.Glamourwas naming me #16on their list ofSexiest Men. Jimmy Fallon wanted to set something up.My publisher was throwing some big party for the five-year-anniversary of thefirst book’s release, and then finally, of course, there was my current work inprogress.

“So,how’s that going?” Nick asked, shuffling the papers again and waving Birdy overto take our order. With a twist of my mouth, I wasn’t sure how to answer. If Ilied again as I had for months and said it was coming along well, he wouldexpect it done sooner. My hands went to my hair, and he immediately shook hishead before resting his furrowed brow into the palm of his slender hand.“You’re fucking kidding me, right? Yousaidit was going well, Brandon.The hell am I supposed to tell Patricia?”

“Idon’t like the direction its going in, man. It doesn’t feel right.” I scratchedthe stubble on my cheek, shaking my head. “I think I actually want to rewriteit. I’d need more time, though, and—”

“Fuck.No. Absolutely not.” Nick waved his hands as if he were directing traffic. Hedid it well, and if he hadn’t been so angry, I would’ve suggested that as hisnext gig when S&S Publications decided to send my contract to the shredder.“Youcan’t. You’ve taken too long on this already. If you hadtold me that, uh, a year ago—or hell, even six months ago—then it would’ve beenno problem, but dude, you don’t fuck the hand that feeds.”

“Ididn’t know I wanted to rewrite six months ago,” I said through my ownaggravation, chewing the inside of my lip. “You think I actuallywanttoscrap something I’ve been working on for the better part of a year? Of coursenot. But I can’t focus, man. I want to change things up. I have some newinspiration, and … maybe it’s time for Breckenridge to settle down.” I claspedmy hands together on the table, shifting a little on the squeaking vinyl seat.

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