Page 83 of Mr. Scandalous

It had been two days since he’d made his impulsive proposal on the set ofGood Morning America.He and the segment producer had gone to college together and he’d convinced his frat buddy to give him airtime in exchange for favors to be named later. He’d also persuaded Ashley to call Eden and let her know the show was airing.

But he’d know whether she’d watched it or not.

In retrospect, his grand gesture gambit seemed arrogant and foolish.

Over the course of the past forty-eight hours he’d called Wickedly Wonderful at least three dozen times and Ashley was beginning to lose patience with him.

“Look, dude,” she said in exasperation before hanging up on him the last time he’d phoned. “If Eden wants to contact you, she knows where you are.”

But what happens if she didn’t want to contact him? A sick feeling curdled his belly. Ah hell, he’d burned his bridges asking her to marry him on national TV. Which of course, had been the point. No going back now.

However, the clip had gone viral on social media, and he’d received over a million viewer comments on his various platforms. Some viewers posted to express their anger, telling him he was a sellout, but surprisingly, he’d discovered a lot of supporters as well. Many patrons confessed that while they enjoyed being single for the moment, they hoped someday to find that someone special.

A few old girlfriends had called him, along with his mother and sisters. Several podcasts wanted to interview him, and a well-known billionaire bachelor had offered to purchase theSex and theSingle Guybrand.

Yesterday, Mac had shown up with a magnum of champagne and a smiling Sophie on his arm, but when Mac toasted to “seeing what was right in front of your face,” Alec had been unable to swallow his drink.

Until he talked to Eden, he couldn’t celebrate.

The distractions, which he once would have embraced as a way to keep himself from dwelling on the situation, now simply irritated him. He didn’t care what his audience thought. He didn’t want to be interviewed. He put off the prospective buyer and brushed off the premature congratulations. Only one person mattered, and he was on tenterhooks until he heard from her.

Dammit, where was Eden?

What if the retreat she’d gone to was so reclusive she hadn’t had internet access? What if she had seen his proposal and she was mortified? What if she didn’t love him the way he loved her? What if her answer was no?

What if...

Aww hell, where was a worry stone when you needed one? He shoved his fingers through his hair, stalked the length of his office for the seven millionth time and stopped beside the bookcase where the hourglass she’d given him sat.

Okay. This was it. He needed a sign.

Alec took the hourglass to his desk and flipped it over. If Eden called before the last grain of sand ran through the neck of the hourglass, then it was good news. If not, he’d made a romantic fool of himself on national TV.

Morosely Alec plopped down in his chair, propped his elbows on the desk, dropped his chin into his open palms and stared at the hourglass. Each grain of sand that trickled through the neck took Eden just a little bit farther away from him.

Patience.

The word came to him from the ether.

Let’s take it slow, sixty-minute man.

Eden’s voice filled his ears, and he was transported back to the night she first introduced the hourglass into their lovemaking and encouraged him to slow down and take things nice and easy.

He sighed. God, how he needed her to keep him in line. How had he lived so long without her?

Trickle, trickle, trickle.

Alec focused on the sand and allowed it to mesmerize him. He was going to do absolutely nothing for the next hour.

And after that...

He shook his head. He couldn’t think any farther down the road past that last grain of sand.

Seconds passed, then minutes. He stared at the hourglass, never looking away, mentally willing the phone to ring.

Call me, Eden. Call me now.

Trickle, trickle, trickle.

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