Page 16 of Doc Showmance
“You’ll what?” I interrupted. Marino wasn’t a fighter. A substantial gust of wind might knock all one-hundred-fifty pounds of skinny on his ass. He was a gaming super nerd who was good on computers. He’d even started his own YouTube channel a few months ago. Not that he had many followers, but people were nuts about the game he vlogged about.
“I’ll hack his life and make him regret it.”
Okay, Marino could do that. “That’s a great idea. Just not yet.”
“I’ll date a cop for you and get him arrested if he hurts you,” Joley added. “Or I could call the sheriff. We dated a few months ago, remember?”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” I squinty-eyed her. “Why are you blushing when you mention the sheriff? He was hot as hell even if he was older than your normal boyfriends.”
Joley shrugged. “Kind of miss him. I like silver foxes, but he was in a bad place, coming off a divorce and starting re-election stuff.”
“Call him if you miss him. I’d like you to find something meaningful and real.”
Joley laughed. “Real? I’m too young for that. It’s weird that we keep matching on dating apps when I try new ones, though.” There was a glint of sadness in her eyes. I wondered if he’d been one of the few to break it off with her instead of the other way around.
“We got this.” Bruno raised his glass. “I will fuck up Ian What’s-his-name if he hurts you. Because no one messes with our family.”
“No one gets arrested. That’s the rule. We’ll get through this.” I raised my glass. “To family.”
6
Amber
Idon’t like feeling scared. Who does, other than people who get a kick out of serial killer movies? This kind of fear reminded me of all the times my life had been in chaos back when I’d been shuffled from one family to another from the age of one, each time carrying all my belongings in a trash bag. I’d been told my mother got put in jail for selling drugs. I don’t remember her, and she never reached out even when she made parole ten years ago. Sure, I followed her jail progress.
I also never tried to contact her. Probably due to all the festering anger over having a shit time in foster care growing up. My father was an unknown. After all that, not a lot had an effect on me anymore.
Today’s fear had nothing to do with Ian. Only looming uncertainty over that which I had no control did this to me.
My mouth had a sour stress taste, and my stomach felt like I’d swallowed clay.
Sitting in the conference room with Marianna, her ideas team, and the work crew, they bandied about romance ideas while my boss, Ian, and I sat in silence. How had this become my life? I had no control. They were trying to make decisions for me about something that was going to be quite public and a whole lot humiliating. Decisions like how long we waited before we kissed.Kiss? I’d sooner pucker up with a penguin than Ian Todd, and penguins reek of fish.
What if this was some kind of joke? What if they were going to make it into a joke?
I might have to relive the hell of the last two years of veterinary school all over again. I was the one who got tricked. I’d learned my lesson loud and clear. No one in the viewing audience would possibly buy that a man with carbon good looks, glittering gray eyes, and a wildly smart mind like Ian would be into me. I was an idiot to sign myself up for this.
My gaze drifted tohim.
Ian was still too attractive. As in unreal male beauty to the point I could only look at him in short bursts without my cheeks going hot. His face was comprised of chiseled angles that looked phenomenal on television and commercials. I’d watched his show a time or two. I’d spent more time than I wanted to admit trying to figure out if his face was genuine or altered surgically. Lips like that, full and sculpted with the perfect dip in the center… What the bloody hell was I doing thinking about his lip dip?
This was the show people’s fault because they were still discussing us kissing and when it’d progress to tongue action. As if romance had a plotted timeline? Guess it did in the TV world.
At least Ian wasn’t actively a part of the conversation. His arms were crossed and his usually present smile absent. He’d dressed as if he had a Ralph Lauren ad to run to after the meeting in his button-down shirt open at the top to show off the tanned skin of his smooth chest. He probably smelled like a cologne ad, too. Did he shave his chest, or was he sparsely haired? What kind of man shaves if he doesn’t professionally dive or cycle?
I was getting distracted. Damn, I’d forgotten his good looks caused my brain to go into this sort of fluffy zone of awe and speculation. Happened in vet school, too. Not that I’d ever give him the satisfaction of admitting it. In fact, whenever I got this way while looking at him it made me get irritable and mean toward him. It was a weakness. I could…I would do better. He was a colleague now.
“Hold on.” I held up my hand.
No one stopped talking or paid any attention to me.
“Hello?” I said, louder. “This isn’t going to work.”
Still, no one looked my way. Not even Ian, who seemed fixated on their conversation regarding how long it would take for us to get to each base. If third base came up, I’d walk out.
I shouted, “There’s not a chance in hell I’m French kissing him!”
“Why not?” Marianna Rinkov asked. She looked over the top of her wire frame glasses and tapped her pen on the table. People probably sucked up to her in the TV world as a rule since she produced not only this but also at least two other popular reality TV shows. I didn’t give a shit. She said, “If you don’t know how, I guarantee he’s got a lot of experience. He can pull it off for both of you.”
