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Pizza My Heart(A Billionaire Romance, Part 2)(15)

By:Glenna Sinclair


Chaz studied me for a few long and uncomfortable moments. “Too much sass,” he decided. “You come off as bitchy instead of spunky.”

“I’ll work on that,” I said.

“Too much sarcasm.”

He busied himself with unloading the coffee from the carrier, dropping his messenger bag on a chair pulled up to the countertop.

“A skinny mocha frappe for you, no whip,” Chaz said, daintily handing over a slushy of coffee to me. “I thought this would be right up your alley.”

“You think I need to lose weight,” I said flatly, accepting the beverage.

“I think you could avoid being bloated on national television, yes,” he said. “Your weight is just fine, thankfully. You look like you take care of yourself.”

“Thanks?” I said, unsure if it was a compliment. I didn’t really take care of myself. I just had a forgiving metabolism. But I figured Chaz didn’t need to know that. He already thought so little of me.

“There’s really no time to waste, so let’s just skip the small talk and get right into it,” he said.

I blinked, surprised. I hadn’t considered what we were doing to be small talk, but things were obviously very different in Hollywood. I was quick to figure that out.

“Kelly’s an old friend of mine, so there won’t be any curveballs,” he said, sipping on his own caffeinated drink. I had to wonder if his was a skinny, too. “What we’re looking for is a fun puff piece. People—especially women—are going to be jealous of you because you’ve seemingly landed Devon Ray.”

“The unattainable man,” I muttered.

“Keep that sarcasm up and they really will hate you,” he warned. “I can see the social media posts now—backwater bitch doesn’t even appreciate she’s with Hollywood’s hottest leading man.”

I blinked at him, shocked into silence.

“What?” he asked, blinking back, taking another sip of his drink. “I think in 140 characters. Oh, are you offended at ‘bitch?’ You have to grow a thicker skin—immediately. If I’m going to make you cry, you might as well pack your bags and go back to wherever, Texas.”

“It’s Dallas,” I informed him, but he ignored me.

“What’s really going to matter is what you look like,” he continued. “That is what people will be most interested in—unless you fuck up and say something stupid, which you shouldn’t do because I just told you it would be a fuck up. Understand?”

“Should I just smile and nod whenever she asks me anything?” I asked, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Can you get her to only ask ‘yes’ questions? They might think I’m a bitch if I say no to anything.”

Chaz didn’t look impressed. “We’re going to have to drain all of that bitchiness out of you, or it will show up on camera. The worst thing you can do is make them hate you even more than they already do. If you’re going to do an interview and introduce yourself to the entire world, don’t you want them to at least like you a little bit?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I complained.

“Oh, poor little girl,” Chaz whined. “A movie star fell in love with her and she didn’t ask for any of this.”

What the hell was that? Was that really how Chaz viewed me? Would that be what people thought of me?

“I don’t think I want to do the interview anymore,” I said.

“Stop it,” he scoffed. “Of course you’re doing the interview. I already told Kelly you were doing the interview. If you back out now, even that’ll be news. And it definitely won’t be good.”

“Then help me do the interview well,” I said. “Stop insulting me. I delivered pizzas for a living before this. I don’t know what I’m doing, and Devon said to trust you.”

Chaz sighed. “Look. Take whatever anxiety or doubts you’re having about the interview and magnify them by a metric fuck ton. That’s how terrified I am of it.”

“This isn’t helping.” My eyes darted around, looking for the nearest exit.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m going to help you,” Chaz said. “Everything that happens in this interview is going to blow back on Devon, and if anything negative tries to stick, it’s my job to unstick it. I can’t have him looking bad. He’s my meal ticket. That’s an unkind way to put it, but it’s the truth. So my job is to keep him looking good, and now that extends to you. You’re going to do fine because you’re going to do exactly what I say. Right down to the haircut.”