Andre flipped him off. “All I’m saying is that we should go have some fun this weekend. Recharge.”
Jace perked up. A fun weekend?
Andre was right—that was exactly what he needed. Since they’d returned to Dallas, Jace had felt off, like he couldn’t quite get back into the groove. And it had nothing to do with Wicked’s bank account. The moment that had passed between him and Evan had replayed in his mind one too many times. And getting hard night after night thinking about a girl who was off limits was getting him nowhere. He knew just the kind of weekend he needed.
“Andre, I think that’s a genius plan.”
He grinned. “Of course it is. That’s the only kind of plan I come up with.”
Jace smirked. “I’ll deal with Diana next week. There’s no way I’m letting her earn any more money off my back. And I’ll figure out this mess with Wicked. I have some new radio and print ads going live this weekend, so maybe that will drum up some new business.”
“You could always ask your parents to release the rest of your trust fund. The money’s supposed to be yours.”
“I’d rather live in a box than give in and ask them for a penny of that damn money. That shit is so laced with strings, I might as well sign up to be a marionette.”
“Well, if they ever want to send any of it over my way, I’ll happily join the family financial business and toe the line. I’d at least get to sleep sometimes.”
Jace chucked a pen at Andre, who deftly ducked out of the way.
“Kidding.” Andre checked his watch, his break probably over. “I’ll set things up for the weekend. Any requests?”
Yes. A dark-haired beauty with ice blue eyes and a mouth that begged to be tasted. A woman who clearly had never been under a master’s hand, but whose body had responded the instant her hands were tied—in front of a live audience no less. He shoved Evan’s image from his head. “See if there are any new members.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You want a newbie?”
“Yes.” Anything to make him forget an oldie.
This was not how Evan had anticipated spending her birthday. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to keep an interested look on her face as one of the reporters asked Daniel another question about the planned television show.
She thought she’d have some time to get her head wrapped around the idea that they—well, Daniel—was going to have his own TV show. But two weeks after signing the deal the word was out, and the Dallas papers wanted to know all the details. The glare of the spotlight was already dangerously close to making her break out in hives. She much preferred being the one behind the flashbulb.
“Ms. Kennedy, are you going to be part of the show?” the female reporter asked, turning her head toward Evan.
She sat up a little straighter on the couch. “I plan to stay in more of a behind-the-scenes role.”
Daniel put a hand on Evan’s knee. “Evan’s going to be in the audience most days, and I plan to call upon her when we need a woman’s perspective. Hopefully, we can get her over her stage fright so she can become a bigger part of the show.”
Evan tensed beneath his grip. What the hell was he talking about? They had never discussed her stepping into that kind of role. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out the question for him. She gave the handful of reporters a tight smile.
After a few more questions were lobbed at Daniel and more photos were taken of the both of them, the group finally filed out of the house. Evan barely waited for the front door to click shut behind them before whirling around and pinning Daniel with a deadly glare. “Have you been drinking? Hit in the head with a blunt object?”
His eyebrows knitted. “What’s the matter?”
She put her hands out to her sides. “Get over stage fright? Since when am I supposed to be on camera? That’s not part of the deal. You know I don’t want that.”
He gave a put-upon sigh and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Calm down, sweets. It’s just something the producers mentioned would be a good idea. You’re beautiful and smart. They think you’ll add to the brand better if you’re not hiding in the background.”
She groaned. “I’m not hiding, Daniel. I’m working my ass off with all the detailed stuff you don’t like to deal with. The limelight is your dream, not mine. And how am I supposed to be at all the show tapings and still get my new studio off the ground?”
He frowned. “Evan, you don’t have to worry about turning a profit with your photography. The money from this deal will be more than enough to support all of us.”
She stared at him in disbelief, then wriggled from beneath his grasp. So her photography business was expendable—a little hobby that didn’t bring in enough cash to count for anything. She stormed past him before she said everything that wanted to spill out of her mouth. “Whatever, Daniel.”
* * *
Evan ignored the soft knock on her door as she finished putting on her eyeliner. An hour of alone time had eased her down from her boiling point, but she was still at a steady simmer. She had half a mind to go to her birthday dinner alone.
“Evan, it’s Marcus. Can I come in? I have mail for you.”
She blew out a breath and capped the eyeliner. “It’s not locked. And you could’ve come up with a better excuse than that.”
He cracked open the door and stuck his head in tentatively, like he was afraid she was going to chuck a shoe at him or something. It would’ve been tempting had it been Daniel. “You doing all right in here?”
“Peachy,” she said with a saccharine smile.
He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in, frown lines marring his smooth complexion. “Don’t mind Daniel. His mouth is just moving too fast for his brain. He’s so excited about finally reaching his dream that he hasn’t slowed down to really consider how everyone else might feel about it.”
She sighed and clicked off the light on her makeup mirror. “Look, no one is happier for him than I am. You know that. I know where he came from and how big of a deal this is. I just need him to understand that it’s not my dream. I’m dedicated to making this work for all of us, but my financial interest is so that I can run my studio, not have to stress about money, and be able to . . . take care of a few things. The fame part is not my deal.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Fame might not be that bad, you know.”
Fame. Her stomach did a flip. She’d spent a lot of time honing this new life—changing her name, refining her look, sloughing off her old life—not just to get a fresh start but to escape the demons lurking in her past. Having her picture splashed across the papers or television wasn’t exactly lying low.
“I’m not going to be on camera, Marcus. Get that through Daniel’s head and we’ll all be square.”
He stepped behind her and set the stack of mail on the vanity table before giving her shoulders a little squeeze. “He won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, okay?”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Now, why don’t we drop this whole thing for now and focus on going out and celebrating your birthday?” He waggled his eyebrows at her in the mirror. “We have a gift I promise will put a smile on your face.”
“Oh, Lord. Now you have me nervous.”
He laughed. “Come on, hot stuff. We don’t want to miss our reservation.”
* * *
By