Chapter 6

Monday mornings were bad enough, Eve thought as she rode The Chronicle's elevator to the sixth floor. But now she had write her story from last night's Bravo Awards. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Her mind drifted to the previous night, followed by a fresh wave of irritation. Gray Daymon was stuck in her craw.

Not twenty minutes after nearly kissing me he had some other woman filling his lap. Gah. Why do I even care? This is why I hate celebrities.

The elevator dinged at her floor.

Thank God, I'll never have to see him again.

Rounding the corner to her cubicle she stopped dead in her tracks. What might be the world's largest arrangement of flowers sat on her desk.

"Whoa, girl. Who are those from?" Lisette appeared behind her.

"I have no idea. They were probably sent to the wrong person. I'll check the card and have security deliver it."

She dropped her purse and work tote on the floor and searched the massive arrangement. Finally, she located the attached card.

"Huh. No name on the envelope. I feel like such a snoop, but hopefully there will be a name inside."

She carefully slipped the card out and read the brief message. Every ounce of air escaped her lungs in a whoosh.

Eve—

Please join me for dinner tonight.

I'd like to apologize properly and get to know you better.

I'll call this morning.

—Gray D.

"Oh, hell no."

Why won't this guy leave her alone? Surely, he has more important things to be doing. Like spending time with the starlet occupying his lap last night. The guy had a lot of nerve hitting her up for a dinner date after flirting with her then flaunting another woman.

"Are you okay? What does it say? Who's it for?"

With impeccable timing, Eve's desk phone rang. She jabbed a finger at the ringing phone, afraid to touch it. There was a good chance she knew who was calling, and he was the last person she wanted to speak to.

"Aren't you gonna answer it?"

"No. You answer it." Panic rose in her voice. "If it's Gray Daymon, I am not here." She picked up the receiver and thrust it at Lisette.

"Why would it be Gray Daymon? Uh...Eve Brock's desk, this is Lisette Montague." Lisette tapped on the speaker for good measure.

"Hello again, Ms. Montague. This is Gray Daymon. I'm surprised you're answering Ms. Brock's phone. I trust you recovered from last night?" Lisette stared wide-eyed at Eve.

"Hello Mr. Daymon. Yeah. I'm fine. I was..."

Eve mouthed "I'm not here."

"I was...leaving some notes on Eve's desk when her phone rang. So, I picked it up." Lisette blushed violently at the phone. "Eve's not here. Can I leave her a message?"

"Not there, huh? Do you make a habit of answering her phone when she's out? Isn't that what voicemail is for?" There was amusement in Gray's sultry voice. He sounded cool as a cucumber, and Eve was certain he wasn't buying Lisette's flustered fib.

"No. Not usually. Just habit. You know. A phone rings. I answer it." If she weren't so irritated with Gray, Eve might have found Lisette's stammering amusing. She bit her lip to prevent giggling as much as a reminder of her annoyance.

"Hmm. Well, when do you think Ms. Brock might be there?"

"When will Eve be here? Oh, gee, I'm not sure. She might be working from home today." Eve nodded yes.

"I don't suppose you could give me her phone number, could you? Or better yet, get a pen. Here's my personal number. Please send her a text or something and ask her to call me this morning. I'd like to speak with her. We have some unfinished business." Lisette grabbed a pen and scrap of paper and scribbled the phone number on it.

"I'll get it to her."

"I'm sure you will. Have a nice day, Lisette."

"Let me guess who sent those flowers." Lisette thrust the slip of paper at Eve. "Mr. Sexy wants you to call him."

"I heard what he said. I'm not calling—ever—and I am certainly not going to dinner with him."

"The hottest man on television wants to take you out to dinner. This is great. What did you do to the poor man last night? Slip a magic love potion in his champagne?" Lisette laughed. Eve was mortified, blushing.

"Read the card. I didn't do anything to him. The creep was hitting on me all night."

"Oh, girlfriend. You'll be the envy of every Living & Loving fan alive."

"No, I won't, because I am not going. Somehow this is all your fault, anyway. And Jack's. So, wiggle your sorry little butt back over to the Entertainment Desk and leave me here to write my Bravo story in peace. Ta-ta." Eve wiggled a wave in Lisette's direction and picked up the enormous vase of flowers, moving it on top of the file cabinet. She was tempted to dump them in the trash, but couldn't quite bring herself to. They were gorgeous and probably cost a bundle.

"Okay, okay. See you for lunch? I can't wait to hear the whole story."

Eve scowled and reached over to turn on her laptop, dismissing her friend.

****

Eve avoided answering multiple calls from Gray's number all morning. The guy was persistent. Around noon, front desk security called to announce she had a visitor and asked to send up a Mr. Gray Daymon.

"Please apologize and tell Mr. Daymon I'm on deadline and unavailable today."

Or ever.

He actually had the nerve to show up at The Chronicle? Couldn't he take a hint? She returned to pounding away at the keys on her laptop. A few minutes later, she hit send on her Bravo story, effectively turning it in to the city desk for editing.

Finally, I can get back to my project. I need to call my contact at the women's prison to set up a series of interviews.

Eve's stomach rumbled in protest. She hadn't eaten breakfast and was starving. Lisette and Julia would be bugging her to go to lunch, but she was in no mood to be grilled by the two of them today. So, a deli sandwich at her desk it would be, she decided, reaching for the well-worn paper menu tacked to her cork board.

"Writing a hard-hitting story on deli food, Ms. Brock?"

She spun around to find Gray Daymon, dressed in tight black jeans and a form-fitting, white button-down shirt. The first few buttons of the shirt were left undone and the sleeves were rolled to mid-forearm. Dark hair brushed his collar. He leaned against the frame of the cubicle, grinning. Clearly, he was enjoying her surprise and pleased with himself.

"I see you got the flowers. I hope you like them." He nodded toward the arrangement on the file cabinet.

"Uh, yes. Thank you." Eve pulled herself together and stood. "What are you doing here?"

"You were too busy to take any of my calls, so I decided to issue my dinner invitation in person."

Too bad he wasted a trip out here.

"Again, thank you for the flowers. They're lovely. However, I am afraid I'll have to decline the dinner invitation."

She looked him straight in the eye as she spoke, but keeping contact was proving difficult. The easy way he drew her in was unsettling. For some ridiculous reason, her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth had gone bone dry.

How does he do this to me? It's like being fourteen years old all over again.

"I'm disappointed. You have another engagement this evening then? Perhaps tomorrow night is better?" He continued to hold her gaze and undo her with his award-winning smile.

"No, I don't have other plans. I just...have to say no." A bead of sweat trickled down her back. It was easier to refuse him when she could ignore the phone calls. An in-person invitation was not so simple to decline. Especially while he was standing right there looking so...damned fine.

"Well, now you're just hurting my feelings. Please change your mind." Were those puppy-dog eyes pleading with her? Good God, how could one man be so damned attractive?

"That's not a good idea, Gray. I don't date celebrities."

"What a coincidence, Ms. Brock, because I don't date reporters." Gray shrugged. "Let's not call it a date. Just dinner. Between old friends."

She laughed, relaxing a bit. "Old friends? I'd hardly call us friends, let alone old friends."

"Okay, new acquaintances? Possible friends? Two people sharing a meal? You can sit at the next table over, if it makes you feel better. Or even in the next restaurant over. Although that might make conversation a bit difficult." He winked. It was kinda cute.

"You are persistent, aren't you?" Charming. The damned man was textbook charming. How dare he?

"Yep. So, dinner at seven? Should I pick you up here or at your place?"

"I haven't said yes."

Am I actually flirting? Please tell me I am not flirting. Crap. I'm flirting.

"You were about to. Plus, I'm not leaving until you do say yes. So, you'll miss that important deli deadline." He gestured to the menu in her hand.

"My deli...?" Oh. She laughed. He was as genuine as he was good to look at. Which both surprised and annoyed her.

"Eve—good column on the Bravos. I have a few thoughts on it before it ships to the copy desk..." Jack Kirkpatrick stopped at her cubicle, glancing up from his notepad to notice she had company. "Oh, sorry. Didn't know you had a guest."

Eve shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Jack, this is Gray Daymon. You know, the actor from Living & Loving? Gray this is my editor, Jack Kirkpatrick." The two men shook hands.

"Yes, I know who he is, Brock. I do read the paper once in a while."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kirkpatrick. I was on my way out. So, seven o'clock. I'll pick you up here." There was no getting out of dinner now. Damn Jack's timing.

"Or I could meet you there."

"Nonsense. I'll pick you up. The Lamborghini should be out of the shop by then." He took her hand in his and kissed the top of it like he had last night. Before she could change her mind, he turned and left.

"Gray Daymon came here to ask you for a date? In his Lamborghini?" 

Eve winced. Jack wasn't speaking quietly. Good grief. By twelve-thirty the whole freakin' newsroom would know about this stupid date I don't want to go on. "He doesn't have a Lamborghini," she muttered, before turning around to busy herself on her computer.

She leaned back in her chair and blew out a deep breath. How the hell did I get talked into a date with Gray? Now what do I do?

Everything logical in her mind told her going out with him—no matter what you called it, it was still a date—was wrong. However, in the jumbled mess inside her head the idea held tremendous appeal. Since when did Eve Brock go tingly over any guy?

Never. That's right. Never.

She picked up her phone and did what any girl in her position would do.

Eve called her sister. Hopefully Brynne would be the voice of reason.

Brynne was not the voice of reason.

"Are you kidding me, Evie? A hot actor asks you out to dinner and you don't know what to do? Are you insane, woman? I'm pretty sure there's only one answer to that question and it's a hellaciously big fuckin' yes. I'm not even sure we're related anymore if you have to ask me." Her sister's enthusiasm was not what she had expected.

"Brynne, you know I can't stand all this Hollywood stuff. It's so artificial."

"No one's asking you to make a movie of your life or marry the guy for crying out loud. It's a date. With a well-known hottie. He can't be any worse than that worm Gavin."

"Don't mention him, please."

Gavin. Yeah, after what the prick had put her through, it's a wonder she could gin up even a flicker of interest for Gray. It was far more than a flicker.

"Nothing good can come from this, Brynne," she said.

"Nothing bad can come from one date, silly. The guy's a celebrity. He's not going to maul you in public." Brynne paused. "Even if he did..."

"Do not go there, Bee-Bee." Brynne hated the nickname, which was exactly why she used it. Serves her right if she's not going to back me up on this.

"Ooh. The big guns, eh? That tells me you want to go and were hoping I'd talk you out of it. Hah. Not happening. Go. Have fun. Call me tomorrow." The line went dead.

"What good are friends and sisters if they don't have your back?" She muttered as she picked up the deli menu once again.

****

Will this be a one and done? How will he win her over? And, what about the Lamborghini? Please leave a question or comment or maybe even a vote!