Page 2 of Her Top Dog
“Also, be aware,” she whispered, “They rewrote a few of the questions just now.”
My brows creased. That wasn’t totally unheard of—us adding a question or two here and there that we make each other ask our targets. But we’re all on microphones. If we want to add a question, we can just do so on the fly by saying it aloud into the pranking brother’s earpiece.
“Just now?”
Christina nodded as another crew member brought over small side table for me to set the tray of soup onto. “I had to handwrite them in real quick.”
Christina rushed away, tucking herself back onto a bench and pretending, like the rest of our crew, to be a random person enjoying this beautifully cool evening in LA.
My fingers itched to turn the clipboard over, but we all knew that it was majorly against the rules to see our questions ahead of time. Half the fun for our viewers was watching our reactions.
“Well, here goes nothing,” I sighed.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I tried as a woman walked briskly past me, her hand clutching a little girl’s, presumably her daughter’s. “Would you like to try a sample—”
“Not interested!” she said, not even breaking stride.
I tried with three more people walking by to get someone—anyone—to have a soup sample. Literally no one stopped. Fuck. Maybe this was going to be a fourteen-hour day.
“Here!” Josh shouted into the microphone. “Grab this woman coming out of the store.”
No. Please no…
Just my luck, when I turned around to the woman exiting Chanel with a big white and black shopping back in hand… it wasn’t just any woman. It wasmywoman.
And she was even more spectacularly beautiful up close than she was from far away. Her light blue, button-down shirt brought out the blue-gray in her eyes. She wasn’t wearing much makeup because she didn’t need it—she was stunning, with striking features, an oval jaw that curved into a slender neck. And her body… fuck me. She was lean, but toned, her black pencil skirt hugging a deliciously curvy ass that I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around and grip as I drove into her wet heat.
She blinked, glancing up at me as she closed the store’s door behind her.
“Now, Smurf!” My brother yelled. “Before she walks away!”
Dammit. “Hey,” I said and flashed my charming grin that almost always worked when we were at the bar… then again, right now I looked like a checkout boy at a soup store, not the television star I actually was. And not that that would usually matter, but this was a woman who’d most likely just dropped four figures in Chanel. Something told me she didn’t often slum it with the soup guy passing out samples. “Would you like to try our soup?”
Please say no, please say no, please say no…
“Sure.”
Fuck.
“I love soup,” she said and grinned at me. And of course, that beautiful smile of hers revealed a set of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth.
“You love soup?” I asked as she came over and gingerly set her bags on the sidewalk at her feet.
“I do,” she said. “It might be my favorite food.”
I startled, jumping back a little. “It’s… it’smyfavorite food!”
She laughed, and the sound was like a balm for my nerves. God, even her laugh was perfect. “Really? There’s not many of us. Most people choose pizza, or tacos, or sushi—”
“Oh, hell no. Nothing beats soup. On the count of three, say your favorite. One, two, three… Minestrone!”
“Minestrone!”
Her eyes went wide, the blue color flashing. “There’s a great place around the corner here. I’m planning to go there tonight for dinner—”
“Guiseppe’s! I know! That’s where I got this one…”
I winced, watching as her face shifted into confusion. “This one?” she asked.
