Manaconda 2: The Second Coming(14)

He grinned so wide his eyes were mere slits, but they gleamed with happiness. “Ciao, crazy girl.” The door shut behind him.

I hurried to my bedroom, gave Sammy a quick scratch. He was sleeping contentedly on my bed. I swapped out my yoga pants and shirt for a magenta wraparound dress, black heels and matching blazer. I’d be covered for all of my meetings and dinner.

I moved back out to the kitchen and transferred my latte to a go cup so I wouldn’t be tempted to stop for yet another coffee. The trip into West Hollywood was full of winding roads and hills.

I followed my GPS directions to a cute little house with a kickass view. Bethany’s Mini Cooper was already parked in the driveway. It was a testament to how excited she was about the house that she was actually on time for something.

The Sunset Strip wasn’t too far away, which was still the mecca of all things music and fame-worthy. All in all, this was the perfect spot for her. Probably a little too perfect. She could also get into a lot of trouble out here.

I climbed the stairs to the fifties bungalow-style house. A current Selena Gomez remix pumped from the windows even before I got to the door. I rang the bell, but when no one answered, I switched to loud knocking.

Excited voices and the tell-tale clicking of animal feet suddenly stopped and the door opened. “Hi, Kennedy.” Bethany giggled and pushed someone behind the door. “Is it three o’clock already?”

“It certainly is.”

“Right. Um, well I have someone with me. I’ve been telling him all about you. I hope that’s okay.”

I swallowed a sigh. I couldn’t count the number of times people ambushed me for a consult through one of my clients. In fact, that was the reason I had a fair number of ex-clients. “Sure.” I gave her an expectant look, but she still didn’t back up. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, right.” Bethany laughed and stepped back, her fingers linked tightly with the man behind the door.

Well, man was a stretch. He looked about fourteen years old though the sleeve of tattoos and open shirt tried to prove otherwise. Justin Belmont—teen sensation, troublemaker, and PR nightmare.

Oh, hell no.

And Bethany had hearts in her eyes.

Wonderful.

I stepped into the white and baby blue themed house. There were hardwood floors from wall to wall, and a view to kill for—or pay a little over a million for. It was the perfect starter house for Bethany.

“Isn’t it just divine? Justin helped me find it. His friend Kendra is selling it. I just signed the papers.”

Right. I bet she was his friend.

“Did you have the house inspected?”

“No. Should I have?” Bethany tilted her head. “What do they do?”

Wow. Thank God, I’m not her manager. I just keep her messes out of the papers, which is a full time job, and make sure she doesn’t make too much of an ass out of herself at Hollywood functions.

I didn’t handhold a lot of clients, but Bethany was one of my oldest, so I made a few concessions.

“I’ll check in with Rhonda, okay?”

“Oh, thanks. You’re the best. That’s why I was totally talking you up to Jus. He saw the articles on you and had to meet you.”

My heart knocked against my sternum. “What articles?”

“You were in Variety. They were talking about the best firms for public relations, and your name was listed.”

I blew out a slow breath. That wasn’t so bad.

“They also called you and Hunter the new ‘it’ couple.” And used air quotes for fuck’s sake.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, one sec.” She dragged Jus behind her to the table and opened her messenger bag. “I was in line at the drugstore and saw it. Can’t tell you the last time I bought a magazine I wasn’t in, but the article was pretty awesome.”

I curled my fingers around my purse strap. The newest edition of the magazine. Oh, God. Please don’t be bad. Please don’t be awful. Please don’t be inflammatory.

She flipped out the magazine, spine broken, and already on the right page. “See?”

There was a picture of us splashed across two pages from the Love & Paws benefit. I was under the tree with Sammy, and Hunter was crouched in front of us with a sappy grin on his face. The caption under us read: This is how you create a power couple. Rock star + PR Princess = Magazine Royalty.

I was pretty sure the room wasn’t spinning.

Maybe it was me.

Maybe I should sit down.

“See? Can you do the same thing for me and Jus?”

“What?” I blinked up at her. Somehow I’d managed to fall into the chair at her dining room table. Better than on my face, I suppose.