Page 32 of Wingwoman
I nodded, appreciating her honesty. But even still, my libido gave a lazy yawn and our chemistry was like a failed science experiment.
I hoped she felt it too. That was the problem with being so famous… people rarely felt a lack of chemistry when they were so starstruck by me.
I didn’t mean that in a douchey way. It’s just how it was. When you’re famous, you simply never know if someone is in it because of who you are, because of your fame, or your lifestyle. Or hell, even because of your looks.
Okay, yeah, I heard it. Thatdidsound a little douchey.
But it also didn’t make it any less true.
And here was this Miss America wannabe who was also a singer. Fame, or at the very least, recognition, was important to her on some level.
“So, what changed?” Daisy asked.
“Huh?”
“You said you weren’t interested in settling down again. But here you are, looking for love, at least in the interim. What changed?”
Oh. Shit. Again, I couldn’t tell her that my record label was going to drop me in T-minus eight weeks if I didn’t produce some Top 40 shit. “Life in the spotlight can be kind of lonely. I mean, sure, I’m always surrounded by people. But sometimes that’s when I feel the most alone. It makes it so much more obvious that none of the people circling me are my people. I guess I’m craving the company of someone I trust. Even if it’s only for a limited time.”
“That’s so sweet.” She blinked at me, her black spiky lashes fluttering against her cheeks and a bit of mascara flaked off, landing on top of her heavily painted face. “I feel like I could be that girl for y—”
“Seriously, Gypsy? Again?” Hope’s shrill voice cut through the thick quiet of the trail and I blinked, resisting a glance back as I heard Hope grunt in frustration. A foul odor made its way to my nose.
I leaned back, calling to Hope over my shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I should have warned you… Gypsy has a bit of IBS issues. Being an old lady and all.”
“Ugh, gross.” I swallowed my chuckle at the whine in Hope’s voice.
Daisy sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes, flicking at her nails.
Boom.There it was. That’s what I was trying to draw out.
She’s the jealous type. I had a feeling when she first arrived in her F450. An inkling when I watched her eye Hope as they first approached. She took in everything about her from the top of Hope’s sleek brown hair down to her impractically high heels.
It was a generalization, of course, and there are plenty of pageant contestants who aren’t this way—but I had a feeling Daisy liked the spotlight. She wanted it, craved it… and someone else having it was a problem for her.
In my world? That wasn’t okay. I didn’t mind sharing my spotlight—hell, I’d even give it to the right woman. But I needed a woman who was secure. A girlfriend who wouldn’t cry if I was photographed having dinner with my agent, who yes, is a beautiful redhead.
The memory of Hope’s reaction to me taking selfies with my fans flitted through my mind, but I pushed it away. That was a totally different situation. Hope wasn’t jealous of the attention I got. If anything, she didn’t want the attention at all. She just wanted to be valued through that attention.
“Anyway…” Daisy continued. As I gave her a sideways glance, she smiled, practically posed. Like a choreography routine she had memorized. “...I was saying I completely understand what you mean. As Miss Texas, everyone always comes up and tells me—”
“Does she at least movefaster?” Hope called out again, interrupting. “I feel like I’m miles behind you!”
“If only,” Daisy muttered below her breath.
Now was the real test. Could she handle me halting the attention on her and paying it entirely to Hope? Could she let this happen? I held up a finger. “Sorry,” I said and rolled my eyes. “Let me just get her situated back there.”
Daisy hid it well. The frustration. The jealousy. There was a small pinch of her eyes as they creased and then it vanished. “You stay here, I’ll go help her,” she said, her voice a little too chipper. Her eyes, a little too wide. Her smile, a little too eager.
Without waiting a beat, she tugged Marigold’s reins and turned around toward Hope, trotting faster than we’d been walking.
Uh-oh. I did the same, turning Diesel around, but I wasn’t fast enough and Daisy made it to Hope first.
I approached just as I heard Daisy giving instructions. “You have to give her a good kick right here.” She leaned forward, taking Hope’s foot in her hand and mimicking where her heel should land. “Don’t hold back. She might be older, but that just means she’s more set in her stubborn ways.”
Hope smiled gratefully at Daisy, completely unaware. She didn’t see the jealousy in Daisy that I’d seen earlier out in front of my ranch.
“Thank you so much,” Hope said, all smiles. “Gypsy is sweet, but she’s driving me nuts.”
