The Gideon Affair

“I think people overlooked Joa

“Don’t gloss over what she’s trying to pull, Mo.”

Edward took note of the anger in Mickey’s voice.

Moira turned all of her attention on Paige, who squirmed in her seat.

After giving Mickey a side-glance that screamed zip it, she softened her tone. “My dear, I know this is a lot to take on, but you’re a sensible girl. We could try to put this fire out, but believe me,” Moira snipped, “it’ll just keep coming back unless we throw a tsunami at it. And to do that, we need something that will make a fool of Joa

She paused like a stage actress who was building a scene’s momentum with just dialogue.

“Short of some unimpeachable dick pics,” she snickered, “the next best thing is a romance.”

Paige sat back and stared at the woman. Edward held his breath, wondering what she’d say.

“A marriage is out of the question,” his no-nonsense assistant bit out. “I am not chattel.”

“Oh, my dear!” Moira chortled gleefully. “How wonderful that you know the word and how to use it in a sentence.” Looking directly at him, she added, “Is Mensa mentioned on her résumé?”

Mickey thought this was hilariously fu

“You’re much more valuable than mere chattel, my dear,” Moira drawled, sounding impressed.

“Yes, well,” Paige sniffed with a stern frown, “I’m also not stupid about how this town works. I get the whole ‘deflect their attention with a romance thing’ but why does that have to include marriage?”

“Paige,” Edward started, “let’s just …”

“No, Edward. There’s no just.”

Moira raised an eyebrow. “Resistance? My goodness. Don’t suppose you have another, more willing assistant—do you, Gideon?”

Shit. Calling him by his professional name was Moira’s way of getting him to pay attention. Another assistant? He thought of Caro and imagined her wrapped around him like an adoring clinging vine should he ask this same scenario of her. He snorted at the notion of the inevitable Saturday Night Live sketch.

A thick haze of tension gathered and began to spread through the room. Whatever happened next was all on him.

“Let me make something clear to both of you,” he drawled.

Mickey looked up. Moira went still. Paige turned and stared at him.

“Paige and I have a real relationship. She’s not here as my assistant and nothing happens without her complete consent.”

Dammit. He needed to talk to her. Alone. This bullshit wasn’t working for him. At all.

In the next instant, the door to the conference room flew open. He expected to see a puff of smoke that would clear and reveal an evil queen or at the very least some flying monkeys. Instead, the presence of none other than Mrs. Mikhail Klein filled the doorframe.

Holy fuckballs. Shirley was here. This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.

Moving quickly, she went to her husband and put a hand on his shoulder so he’d sit back down, then turned to give a scathing up and down of the woman openly smirking at her.

“Mo,” Shirley cooed, only her tone suggested something not-so-subtly dismissive. “Who moved the rock and let you out? I thought you were … adverse … to appearing during the daylight hours.”

Edward bit back a laugh. Mickey did too judging by his quick throat clear. Paige? Not so much.

“Shirls,” Moira answered as she picked some imaginary lint from her dress. “I’m surprised you can still walk after laboring under that blob you married.”

Uh-oh. That sounded an awful lot like a burn.

Next thing he knew, both women started laughing and flew to each other for a fierce hug.

“You bitch,” Moira drawled.

“Takes one to know one,” Shirley answered pithily.

Then, some weird Ya-Ya type shit went down with both women reciting a bunch of words and making a series of gestures. His acting experiences and the different movies he’d had a role in offered a great deal of insight into how women’s relationships worked. Just because, as a guy, he didn’t understand half of what they were doing didn’t mean it wasn’t meaningful to them.

When they were finished and back to laughing, they stood arm in arm and faced the three of them.

Mickey muttered, “Sorority bullshit,” in answer to the silent questions swirling in the air.

Shirley pushed Moira into a chair and then immediately turned to Paige.

“We need to talk, sweetie.”

It was a statement, not a request. Mickey swiftly rose to his feet and gestured for Edward to get in line and follow him out of the room.

“Wait a minute,” he mumbled. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t leave Paige.

The lady herself settled his quandary with a curt nod and a fake, tremulous smile. “Go on. Let me talk to Moira and Shirley.”

“Are you sure, babe?” he asked. “I think I should stay.”

He eyed everyone with suspicion though he knew no harm would come to Paige or him by any of these people.

“Come on, my boy,” Mickey commanded as he made for the door. “It’s three against two so we might as well back away while we still have our dignity.”

What a day. In the a

A soft drizzle of steamy water from the wide showerhead rained down on Paige. She was kind of engaged. To Gideon Shaw. Or was it Edward Ba

After putting her foot down, she let Moira and Shirley know that an engagement, plenty of di

The two women tried to change her mind, insisting that an elopement would shut the gossip stream in half without any effort, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

The blending of her personal feelings and professional activities was seriously messed up. She’d barely had time to absorb the change in her real relationship with Edward and what it could mean for the future before this other thing seriously blurred the lines.

Shit. The last thing she needed was Robin Thicke invading her mind with an earworm.

Distracted, she’d poured way too much of her favorite bodywash onto her shower pouf before she realized what she was doing.

Aargh. This whole thing sucked. Big time.

As the calming scents of vanilla with a hint of coconut filled the shower, Paige worked up a ton of foamy lather, stroking the pouf from shoulder to shoulder and around her breasts. Breasts that had been achingly tight since the moment Edward had locked eyes with her and suggested she marry him. Like for real or something.

Throughout the entire afternoon as everyone around them had plotted, arranged, organized, and once or twice even threatened, she’d felt Edward’s watchful scrutiny.

Okay, so maybe watchful was an understatement. While Moira and Shirley took over her life and Mickey worked the phone and did what he did, Edward had said next to nothing. He’d been too busy to talk. Too damn busy studying her like a bug under a microscope.

Had the attention freaked her out? Maybe a little. What was rattling her cage was the overwhelming feeling that she was his priority. Not his career and not this damnable predicament.

He’d always been her priority. Always. This was the first time she felt that focused intensity the other way around.

An involuntary, low-pitched moan—was that her making such a raw sound—shook her up when the sudsy pouf stroked near her mound.

Fuck.

She was ridiculously on edge and ready to jump out of her skin, sexual tension gripping her body.