So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(202)

I lean back, twirling my pen.

Ronnie narrows her eyes and grins. “But the woman should make sure that the protection isn’t a ploy to get her between the sheets.”

The pen snaps in two.

“Okay. Let’s talk a bit about what men should expect from the woman they choose.”

She gasps. “We aren’t talking about what men should look for.”

I lean toward her. “Well, maybe we should. For instance, honesty. You say in your book that men want honesty…so a man should be able to trust that if there’s some monumentally important news, the woman he loves will tell him at the first opportunity.”





My heart pounds. Heat rushes through me as a wave of red-hot anger blisters the inside of my skull.

How dare he? Question my honesty? Seriously?

Jackson’s eyebrows rise in question.

Jackass.

He takes a look at his cue cards. “Well, Ms. Fitz? Don’t you think honesty is important from both partners?”

I stand. Palms flat on his desk, I lean forward. Nausea rolls through me.

“Let me tell you what I think about your honesty—” My stomach roils and squeezes. I pull in a deep breath. “You are a lying, conniving, career destroying—”

Acid heat pushes up from the back of my throat. Oh, good Lord, not now. My stomach convulses, and every last shred of my dignity lands with a splash on Jackson’s desk.

He thrust himself away from his desk and stands, arms held out wide. His face is masked with shock and disgust.

My hands fly to cover my mouth. Tears gather in my eyes, and I can’t breathe. I take off and run into the blue curtain. It swishes around me, and I push against the heavy fabric. I twist and turn, until I free myself.

Can it get worse?

Down the halls. Wrong turn. Back up. Another wrong turn.

God, why am I having such a hard time finding my way?

Finally, I find the greenroom. I snag my purse out of the locker and toss the little key onto the floor.

Of all the times for this to happen.

I make it to my car, ramming the key into the ignition with shaking hands.

Who pukes on national television? What will people think? What does Jack think?

I peel out of the parking lot.

This will definitely be a career ender.





SEVENTEEN





I drop my ruined note cards and sling warm wetness from my hands. My jaw hangs loose.

Eric coughs, drawing my attention. He gives me his dumbass-we’re-still-on-air look.

I grab a tissue from the box at the far end of my on-stage desk and pull my shit together.

“And that’s all part of the excitement of live television. You never know what might happen.” I slap on a smile. “We’re going to go to commercial break and pay some bills while we get this mess cleaned up.”




I pull up at the curb in front of Shayna and Ronnie’s place. There’s a light showing around the blinds in the entryway. Maybe that means she’s still awake. Something this important can’t wait.

We have to get this shit straightened out right now. Whatever she thinks she’s got going with Dave, if it’s just sex, it can’t trump giving our baby a home with two parents. Surely she’ll see the logic in that.

I ring the bell and wipe my suddenly clammy hands down the front of the jeans I changed into after the show. The bird squawks and whistles. Well, if they were asleep before, they aren’t now.

It only takes a few seconds for the door to open.

Shayna’s hair is mussed. Her lace panties might as well be see-through, and that wife-beater could just as well not be there, with her not wearing a bra.

I avert my eyes and check out the door frame.

She lets out a big sigh. “What do you want?”

I look her directly into her eyes, careful to keep my gaze up high. “I need to see Ronnie.”

She slides her hand up the side of the door, leaning against it. “No can do.”

“Not here?” Where the fuck is she at this time of night?

She shrugs. “Not my business where she chooses to stay the night. She’s a big girl.”

“Dave’s?” Ugh.

Shayna inspects her fingernail. “Couldn’t say.”

I turn away from her and head to the car. “When you see her, tell her that she and I need to talk.”

I’m halfway down the walk when Shayna says, “You know, Jack, I’ve been wondering something about you.”

I turn to face her, still ensuring to keep my gaze above her shoulders. “What’s that?”

She bites her pinky nail and gives me this look. In the glow of the front porch light it almost seems like she’s hitting on me. “You like white meat as much as you like dark meat?”

“White meat?” What the fucking hell?

Shayna shrugs. “I mean skin tone.”