Eve set her jaw. Lucky thing she’d worn red today. The power color. The color of sex and fame and confidence. She had a feeling she was going to need it.
MITCH HAD SPENT the rest of the weekend finding reasons to avoid calling Nelson Berg with an update. He’d fallen asleep to the sound of Eve’s husky voice on the DVD recordings. Consequently, the sweet sound had whispered, as elusive and maddening as she was, in restless dreams where tanned skin and curves always seemed to be within touching distance, but never quite reachable.
Nelson, however, had made himself unavailable for most of Monday, so Mitch didn’t feel guilty about not calling. First thing Tuesday, he called the station and asked for Dylan Moore.
“This is Mitchell Hayes from CWB,” he said when he had Eve’s assistant on the line.
“Nice to hear from you, Mr. Hayes,” Dylan said. “Ms. Best told me you’d probably call, but she’s in a meeting right now.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to interrupt her. I’d like to get on her calendar for lunch, if she’s free.”
“The show airs at three. She preps from eleven to noon, and then goes into makeup at one-thirty.”
“Does she eat in between?”
“Not usually. Well, outside of a sandwich at her desk. She usually meets with the segment producers for a working lunch.”
“If I brought her that sandwich, do you think she’d meet with me?”
Moore hesitated. “I honestly can’t say, Mr. Hayes. The rep from SBN is here again and that’s probably going to mess up everything she’s got on her calendar.”
Mitch dragged in a breath while he tried to process this unexpected punch to the gut. “SBN has a guy there already, huh?”
He’d known it would only be a matter of time. But two scouts on-site? Had someone sent out a press release announcing Eve and her show were up for grabs?
“Not a guy. A woman. Not that it matters, since I’m not supposed to disclose anything.”
“It’s Mackenzie Roussos, isn’t it?” Mitch said flatly. “Tall, thin, dark hair, a smile like a shark closing in?”
“Yes.”
Mitch sighed. Of all the luck. The TV business was a small world, and the New York nucleus even smaller. Everyone in production knew Mackenzie Roussos. Some people called her “Mac the Knife”-but never to her face.
What her presence meant to him, though, was that CWB was probably going to get left behind in the bidding war. Nelson’s top offer for Just Between Us was the most generous the young network could afford. They’d been hoping they could get in and out with a contract before the big guns got wind of it, but that wasn’t going to happen now. He could just imagine the kind of money Mackenzie Roussos was at this moment dangling in front of Eve. Which made it even more important that he see her.
“Mr. Moore, I need your help.”
A pause. “My job is to assist Ms. Best, Mr. Hayes. And you can call me Dylan. Mr. Moore is my dad.”
“You should call me Mitch, then. If Mackenzie Roussos is here, then it won’t be long before all the vultures start landing and Eve’s calendar is going to explode, along with her privacy and most of her free time. I can’t do much, but if I get her away from there at least she’ll have a little space.”
“Which you’ll then fill with a repeat of CWB’s offer?” Dylan inquired with smooth politeness.
Mitchell’s respect for the people Eve surrounded herself with went up a notch. “No, actually. I-we saw each other on the weekend. Socially. No business-or hardly any. She’s under a lot of stress right now and I’d like to alleviate it some, if I can. As a friend. Not as Mackenzie Roussos’s competitor.”
Mitch could practically hear Dylan weighing the possibilities. “If you feed her, I can get her out of here.”
He released a long breath. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“There’s a park on the other side of the apartment complex behind us. Be there with something for her at noon. And have her back by one-fifteen. No later.”
Mitch gave him his cell phone number in case something went wrong, and rang off. He didn’t have any ammunition up his sleeve to counter SBN’s offer.
But he could certainly spike their guns with the help of a club sandwich.
So, at noon sharp, armed with two paper bags filled with the most appetizing lunch the deli at a nearby strip mall could provide, he stationed himself on a wrought-iron-and-cedar bench between two huge flowering bushes that gave him a good view up the street.
At five minutes past, he saw Eve Best striding down the sidewalk. She looked absolutely mouthwatering in a pair of skinny black jeans and a gauzy crimson top that tied with an oversize bow under her breasts. She also looked as though she could tear the bark off a tree with her teeth.
She hadn’t seen him yet. Pausing in the middle of the sidewalk near the rock wall that formed the park’s boundary, she fisted both hands on her hips and scanned the area. He stood up and waved.
Her mouth opened in a soundless O and it suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know what kind of story Dylan Moore had told her to get her down here.
Obviously, it hadn’t been the truth.
Unexpectedly, she laughed, and the anger went out of her body. “Well, you’re a big improvement on the person I was expecting,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m your lunch date.” He held up a hand, palm out. “Scout’s honor. Dylan and I set you up.”
“You sure did.” She swung a leg over the stone wall and joined him. “He told me one of Jane’s ex-boyfriends was down here, wanting me to help get them back together.”
“And you believed him?” He handed her a sandwich and a tall paper cup filled with a lime-and-kiwi smoothie. The counter guy had insisted that Eve Best came in there all the time, and that was her favorite. With a grimace, Mitch had bought it and ordered a tall bottle of water for himself. He was discovering that if you spent more than fifteen minutes outside in the Atlanta heat, you’d need it.
“Sure I believed him. Despite the fact that she’s crazy about Perry, an ex of Jane’s has been surprisingly persistent since the news broke about the lottery.” She bit into the sandwich as though it was someone’s neck. “And before this I’ve never had a reason not to trust anything Dylan told me.”
“It wasn’t his fault. We conspired to get you out of there for a break.”
“I’m glad you did. My calendar probably won’t be, but I’ll let Dylan take care of that.”
“Smoothie okay?”
She took a sip and nodded. “Dylan told you to go to Scarlett’s, didn’t he?”
“No. I wound up there on my own. But the counter guy said you liked those.”
She sighed and put her drink on the ground. “That was nice of you. This whole idea is nice. I have to admit I’m not having the best day.”
Mitch smothered his smile in a bite of his pastrami sandwich. “No problem. I know from experience that Mac the Knife can be a handful.”
A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. “Word travels fast. Is that what the people in New York call her?”
“Not to her face. It’s Ms. Roussos then. I’m betting she pitched you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”
Eve began to relax against the wood slats of the bench back. A cluster of pink flowers from the bush nodded over her shoulder.
What was it about her that seemed to attract flowers? Her roses seemed to press against her door. Strange bushes cuddled up to her in the middle of the day. What next? An adoring dandelion wrapped around her ankle?
He resisted the urge to check.
No, he was probably just projecting his own desires onto innocent plants. It wouldn’t take much for him to press up against her door, begging for entry, or to nuzzle the bit of shoulder left bare by her sleeveless top. Or even, if it came to that, to press a kiss on the inside of that delectable ankle.
In fact, he’d love to press any number of kisses on any skin he could-