“I know you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but you’ll be with me. I promised nothing bad would happen and it won’t. I won’t let it.”
“Still, it might be better if I avoided the evening altogether.” She picked at a seam.
Something else was bothering her. She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Realization dawned. “You’re worried he’ll use our relationship to prove his point?”
“I’m sorry, but you have to admit, your reputation isn’t exactly wholesome.”
Her words sucker punched him. Jake’s grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Unsure how to respond, he said nothing.
During the rest of the drive to the restaurant, the silence was heavy and tense.
He was staring down the tunnel of defeat, but he didn’t want to let their relationship go. There had to be a way around this. A way to show Maggie she was wrong. About him, them, how good they could be together...everything. And in doing so, rescue his season.
Jake turned into the restaurant parking lot, pulled into a space and turned off the engine. An idea began to form in his mind.
“Maggie.” He took her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers.
She turned to look at him. The hopeful spark in her eyes gave him courage.
“If you don’t want to come to the gala evening, I’ll let it drop. But I think you’re missing the perfect opportunity to fight back. After all, the best defense is offense.”
“How do you mean?” She frowned.
“Preventing trouble is only half the battle. Instead of being afraid of the media, we need to use them to tell the story we want.”
She tilted her head, considering. “How do we ensure they get the right message?”
“Simple. They know I usually fly solo when it comes to important team events.” He squeezed her hand. “If I take you, it shows them I’ve changed far more effectively than anything I could say. Then we plant other key snippets of information with the journalists—about your role as a partner in your sister’s business, how well-adjusted Emily is—and get some good PR shots.” He smiled. “It’s not salacious gossip, but it’s better than schmaltzy wedding coverage.”
She gave a slow nod. “It could work.”
“What could go wrong?”
Maggie shot him a wry look.
He held up one hand in mock surrender. “Nothing will go wrong. Not on my shift.”
“I really can’t afford the slightest bit of bad publicity.”
He tilted her chin so her gaze met his and hoped his sincerity was plain for her to see. “There won’t be a bad word printed. I promise.”
“You can’t control what they write. It’s too...”
He pressed a finger to her lips, stemming the flow. “Trust me.”
Maggie studied him for what seemed like forever. He could see the mixed emotions in her eyes. She wanted to believe in him, but the past weighed heavily.
He wanted to press, but knew that would only push her away. “I believe this is the perfect play, but the decision is yours. I’ll abide by your choice.”
He forced himself to remain quiet. The erratic thump of his heart echoed in his ears.
Finally, she swallowed hard. “All right.”
* * *
FLASHBULBS EXPLODED AROUND the open door of the stretch limo.
The butterflies that had been fluttering in Maggie’s stomach throughout the drive to the event hotel started to dive-bomb as if they were dogfighting in Top Gun.
You can do this. For Emily.
She forced herself to slide forward and get out of the car. Noise bombarded her from all sides—the cheers of the waiting crowd, journalists firing questions and those bloody camera-toting vultures snapping away—a shock after the smooth quiet of the soundproofed car. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, she brushed her palms nervously down her silk dress and waited for Jake.
Her gaze flicked from side to side. It felt like everything was closing in on her. Her breath came in short bursts. Her chest ached as her heart lurched erratically.
The urge to bolt hit her. This wasn’t what she’d wanted, what she’d signed up for. Why had she thought she enjoyed these events? Maybe that had changed as much as she had.
Then a warm hand settled in the small of her back. A tall, solid body pressed against her side, providing strength and support. Soothing her panic.
“Panty hose or stockings?” Jake murmured in her ear, his breath feathering the side of her neck like a delicate caress.
She gave a startled laugh and shot him a look through her lashes to see if his question was serious.
He gave her a too-damn-sexy smile. Her pulse skittered at the gleam in his blue eyes. The underlying concern there warmed her heart and eased her tension; it was a clever distraction.