The Gideon Affair

Right then and there, the relaxing shower became a test of her will. Hurriedly finishing, she rinsed off and wrapped up in a huge towel, moving about on autopilot, as she got ready for the evening ahead.

Mickey had been truly amazing and the one to apply the brakes and slow down the speeding bullet train overtaking her life. He’d told them that like everyone else in town, the self-proclaimed Blog King, even the guy who interviewed Gideon, just really wanted a chip in the game. A seat at the big boy’s table.

Give the shitheads what they wanted, he’d argued. The best way to shut ‘em the fuck up, he’d insisted.

Despite the fact that the situation was a complete shit show, in the end, it wasn’t about Gideon Shaw. He’d been dragged into the mess as a distraction. If they played things right, their plan to shut down the chatter with a carefully orchestrated sideshow—starring her—would detour the media attention and give them time to frame the story to their advantage.

The doorbell chimed. Shit. She wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot but of goddamn course, Edward would be punctual. And then some.

Ru

“Whoa,” Edward chuckled after stepping through the door.

Dammit. He’d caught her in mid-flee. Aargh.

“Next time cover up with something bigger than a hand towel.”

Amusement and a hint of something else laced his drawl.

Hurrying to the safety of her room, she tossed a reply over her shoulder, “Next time text before knocking.”

His laughter filled her small house. “Hey,” he yelled after her. “Can I do anything for you, babe?”

“Yeah,” she hollered from behind her half-closed bedroom door. “Write me a goddamn bonus check.”

Edward’s low chuckle gave her goosebumps. Dressing as fast as she could, Paige heard the TV turn on and relaxed. Thank god, he found something to do.

There was no hope of fixing her hair; the steam shower made it an unruly mop, so she gathered it into a sloppy but chic upsweep and stuck a clip in to keep it in place.

Ordinarily, putting on her face took less than five minutes. Moisturizer, sunscreen, and a swipe of mascara usually did it, but tonight, she would be on display, so she needed more.

Waaaait a minute. Why in the hell am I hurrying? Pfft. Mr. Back-Me-Into-A-Corner could cool his jets. No use in me working myself to an anxiety attack for no damn reason.

Twenty minutes later, Paige was in front of the mirror and wondering what the hell she’d gotten herself involved in.

“Ah, jeez,” she groaned aloud. “I’m go

The outfit hand delivered by a high-end personal shopper without any input from her was so not her usual style.

Preferring a conservative but feminine and funky edge to her clothing, the short, slinky little black dress was light years away from anything she’d choose. Or feel comfortable in.

Having her hair piled atop her head left Paige’s neck and shoulders exposed, and she toyed with the idea of releasing the tangled mess. “Grrrr.” Nope, no duck and cover for her tonight.

The draping neckline and long sleeves seemed modest enough, but the damn dress clung to her like a second skin, stopping several inches above her knees. From there, it was quite a haul down her long bare legs.

And then there were the shoes.

She sighed and studied her reflection. Turning this way and that, she checked out the outrageous footwear from every conceivable angle. Posing like a runway model, Paige had to give it up for the stylish sandals with the wide leather ankle straps and satin ribbons. They were bangin’ and had overkill heels that made her legs appear even longer.

She looked like … she didn’t know what. Feeling like an alien in unfamiliar circumstances, she grabbed a couple of her favorite chunky bracelets for reassurance.

“Well, no more delay.” She’d signed on for this madness, and there was nothing to do now but see it through.

Grabbing the enormous designer bag, she squared her shoulders. “Remember who you are,” she said with determination.

Showtime.

“And the survey says … bananas!” Wild applause and game show music caught Edward’s attention. Good thing too, ‘cause he’d been drifting.

Catching Paige in a sorry excuse for a towel had shot his just be cool plan straight to hell. It was her ridiculous legs. The damn things needed a warning label.

“Ahem.”

His head swiveled toward the sound. Mother of God. He was a dead man.

“I’m ready.”

Ready for what? To be thrown on the sofa and eaten alive? Calculating how fast he could get those mouth-watering limbs over his shoulders had momentarily distracted him.

She shifted from foot to foot. Was she nervous? God, he hoped so because all of a sudden he felt like a pimply teenager with braces on his teeth and a crappy strip mall haircut getting all moony over the homecoming queen.

It wasn’t at all normal for them to feel weird around each other. Worry pierced Edward’s brain. Balls. Screwing with their friendship wasn’t worth it if this crazy plan ruined what was starting to bloom.

“Shit,” Paige muttered darkly. “I look stupid, don’t I? It’s all right. You can tell me.” Her full-body shrug made a lie of the nonchalance she was projecting. “Shirley got carried away, huh?”

Edward swallowed and tried to find his voice. And his balls.

She tugged at the hem of the seductive dress and frowned. “I’ll change. Just give me five.”

Huh? “You’ll do no such thing.”

She tensed and looked at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

“You look fucking amazing, babe,” he assured her while rising from his chair.

A half-smile played around her lips.

“Tell you what,” he quipped with a chuckle. “You wear those shoes more often, and I’ll double that bonus check.”

“Such a guy,” she joshed, but he saw the pleasure in her eyes before she looked away.

“What the hell with the suitcase, though,” he joked in return. “Is there a purpose for such a huge bag?”

Paige held up the enormous leather purse and laughed. “I know, right? Since I don’t want a purse-puppy to carry around, it’s okay with me if you stash a six pack of cold ones in here.”

He approached and pointed at the accessory that he figured was worth thousands of dollars. “Seriously, what do you carry in a bag that size?”

She opened it, and they both stared down into the black hole. “I have no idea,” she drawled. “Tossed my wallet in and my cell. That’s what’s rattling at the bottom. Whadayathink?” she questioned in all seriousness.

Pure Paige. Of course, she’d search for meaning in a designer handbag.

A hilarious thought occurred to him. “Hey, did you ever sneak candy and sodas into the movie theater when you were a kid?”

“Hehehe! Of course. Was a rite of passage in Dog Patch USA.”

Good comeback. She was a great conversationalist.

“Yeah, well, with this bag, you could stock up and make serious dollars cutting out the concession stand. Paige’s Purse.” He laughed.

It was good to laugh with her. Sharing their appreciation of the absurd was so Edward and Paige, and the thought warmed him. Edward and Paige. Yep, totally worked for him.

“Shall we go?” she asked. “I’m assuming the press has been tipped off?”

Oh. Right. The press. It was time for the Gideon Show with Paige as his latest arm candy. Fuck. Navigating this shit wasn’t easy. How was he supposed to explore his feelings for this intriguing woman when this di

“Paige,” he murmured, taking the bag they’d been mocking off her arm. “Come here a moment. We should talk.”

He led her to the sofa by her hand and sat them down without letting go. There were things to say—important things—that he’d be a fool to overlook.