Page 24 of The Wish List
Trinity put a hand on her stomach. “Oops, you guys are going to have to excuse me. I know people talk about morning sickness in the first trimester, but this baby seems to be giving me a run for my money until the end.”
“Do you want to show me those drawings?” Greer asked when he and Freya were alone.
She studied him. “Why do you watch reality TV? You don’t look like the type.”
“Can I see the drawings?” His dark eyes had gone almost obsidian.
“Are you a grifter? Are you taking advantage of my mom and making me a part of it?”
“I doubt anyone could take advantage of May, even if they wanted to. She’s tough, and I imagine you’re a lot like her.”
They’d made it to the kitchen. Freya looked around at the worn walls and scuffed counters. They’d gotten most of the piles of dishes and gadgets put away, and she suddenly remembered admiring the kitchen accessories in the hardware store. “I’m nothing like her,” she said with more force than was probably necessary. “I don’t trust you.”
“I get that loud and clear.”
Once again, he didn’t seem bothered by her feelings about him. It was only when she called his honor into question regarding his professionalism that he took umbrage.
He reached for the drawing she’d done on a pad of paper, but she yanked it away before he could take it. “I don’t believe for a minute that you’re a reality television fan. What’s the deal?”
He glanced at the doorway to the kitchen like he would rather bolt than answer her question. His reaction only made her more suspicious.
“Shortly after Garrett moved to Magnolia, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. Stage four. She was a lifelong closet smoker, although she would have denied it. She was living in Kansas City at the time. She told me all she wanted as her last wish was to spend the summer at the beach. I thought about taking her to Florida. Magnolia seemed like a logical choice since Garrett was here. His longtime agent had just retired, and the agency had given him to me. He was going through a bit of a dry spell, and I was naive enough to think I could kill two birds with one stone. Take care of my mom and schmooze my best client.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s laughable now. I had no clue what caring for a cancer patient in the last months of her life would involve. I didn’t know your mom lived in this town, but we saw her at the bakery one morning before mine got too bad. My mom recognized her because she’d read the book when I was younger. It gave her the courage to walk away from my dad. That action made a huge difference to us both.”
He paused to draw in a deep breath. Freya didn’t want to hear any more. Her gut churned with embarrassment over how she’d misjudged Greer. She hated herself at this moment, which was why she didn’t force him to stop. He deserved her attention on whatever history he wanted to share.
“We owed your mom,” he continued, his gaze lowered to the table. “When she found out I worked for the agency that repped her back in the height of her career, she talked to me about her thoughts on the twentieth anniversary. It was a win-win. She’d been with the agency for years, but nobody was looking after her, and her original agent had also retired. She was kind to my mom. They were friends of a sort. Then May and I became friends. Only friends,” he emphasized. “I am not your mother’s boy-toy or whatever other crap you want to think about me. I respect her. When she mentioned that you were on a reality show, my mom wanted to check it out. She became a huge fan. She liked your moxie, she said, and when things got bad enough that she couldn’t leave the house, we watched a lot of TV. We watched a lot of your TV. Maybe that’s why I feel like I know you. I understand it’s not all real, but I know a lot about you, Freya.”
Freya couldn’t begin to name all the levels at which that terrified her. She liked to think of her life and career in LA as something separate from her hometown.
She knew that was ridiculous. She’d already been recognized by the group of teenage girls in the bakery. But teenagers obsessed with reality TV felt different than knowing that this attractive, enigmatic man had watched her open herself up to millions of viewers over the years.
She’d grown tired of it, which was why she’d been so excited to pursue the idea for a novel inspired by her time on the fringes of Hollywood. It had made her feel so good to have something that seemed real to occupy her time.
Maybe that explained her visceral reaction to Greer. He was an agent. If she had the nerve to talk to him, he might be willing to read her work or at least recommend someone who could. Yeah, she had reality friends who’d gotten book deals for their memoirs or a random cookbook, but she hadn’t yet been willing to put herself out there for something that truly mattered.
At this point, she wouldn’t try with her mom’s agent, although she owed him the courtesy of stopping the spoiled brat routine.
“If you watched the shows, you know everything there is to know about me.” She offered a genuine smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk to you.”
“No, you’re not.” The gleam was back in his eyes.
“I said I was.”
“You’re willing to make me an ally right now, but it’s all part of the gameplay.”
“This isn’t a game,” she insisted. “It’s my life.”
“It’s a game.”
He really did know her well. The realization appealed to her, although she couldn’t explain why. Not many people understood what made her tick or could offer her much of a challenge.
She had a great track record for winning the reality contests she’d participated in, and most of the ones she’d lost had been on purpose. She wondered if Greer realized that as well. Probably.
“Then you know I always find a way to win.”
“What’s the prize at the end of this one?” he asked, his rumbly voice doing funny things to her insides.
