Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry about that,” he said.
It was clear what he meant, and my heart sank further. He was the last one I wanted to witness my professional failures. Not when he had such a bright future in front of him. “Thanks.” I turned and left, but he came with me.
“I know what it’s like not to be recognized for your work,” he said softly.
That almost made me laugh. “You have a million fans who sing your praises.”
He shrugged. “Fans, not the owners of Michelin-starred restaurants. And don’t forget, I didn’t even get those fans until I took my shirt off. Before that, no one was interested in my channel.”
He was trying to be kind, which was a rarity, but his words only hurt worse. For some reason, I kept going back to view his videos—and the thirsty comments underneath. The things women said about him—the things they wanted him to do to them—made me uncomfortable in a way I couldn’t quite identify.
But maybe that was just because Asher and I had an unpleasant history, though I hadn’t even remembered giving him that bad review until he’d brought it up.
“Zoe? Talk to me. We’re both in the same industry. We’re in the same situation.”
“Then where are my million fans?”
He gave a soft smile, not snapping back. “From what I’ve seen, you have quite a few at this resort.”
Had he heard all of Vivian said to me? If so, that made me feel worse. Yes, she’d complimented me, but she’d also turned me down. And Asher was the last person I wanted to witness that.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, as briskly as I could. I gave him a small smile to reinforce my words. “I’ll see you later.”
He caught my arm. “Just talk to me.”
“Stop trying to be all sympathetic. It’s not your strong suit.”
“You mean unlike Landon.”
“Whatever.” It wasn’t my best comeback, but I walked away with my head held as high as possible. As soon as I was out of sight of the lobby, I ducked into the cloakroom. Just to clear my head and get a little time alone.
Except that Asher followed me right inside.
“What?” I didn’t need a shoulder to cry on, and if I had, it wouldn’t be his. He wasn’t the arrogant prick I’d thought at the beginning of winter break, but there was still some kind of tension between us. I’d enjoyed my encounter with him—with all three of them—but there had been something a little disconcerting about being so close to him, our bodies entwined while we made intense eye contact. But that wasn’t what I wanted to be thinking about at the moment. “The lighting’s not right in here.”
He glanced up automatically before giving me a confused look. “What?”
“It’s too dark, in case you came in here to make a shirtless chef cooks in a cloakroom video.”
He gave a low whistle. “You’re upset, and you’re lashing out. I told you we were a lot alike.”
“You said we were in the same situation.” I took a step back, but despite the fact that we were surrounded by tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of outwear, the room wasn’t very big.
“Same difference. Hey, if you’re giving me advice, maybe you can keep doing so once we get back to Langley. I could use a production assistant.”
Crap, he knew how to push my buttons. “Sure. I can answer all your fan mail. Tell me, have any of those women figured out a way to send you their panties through the internet?”
As soon as I said the words, I wanted to take them back. If women sent him panties, nudes, or worse, I didn’t want to know about it.
Asher held up his hands as if showing that he came in peace. “I just wanted to see if you were okay. Clearly you are, since you’ve got enough spirit left to bite my head off.”
He walked to the door, and I turned away. I hadn’t wanted to pick a fight with him—again. I just wanted things to be different.
After a moment, I looked up. Asher was still there, turning the doorknob, making it rattle.
“Need one of your adoring fans to teach you how to open a door?”
“It’s locked.” He sounded puzzled.
“What do you mean it’s locked?” I marched over and tried to grasp the doorknob, but he wouldn’t stop turning and pulling on it.
“I mean, it won’t open. We’ve been locked in again.”
Realization dawned on me. “By the twins? Why this time?”
“I don’t know.” He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stick up.
I took a step back, frustrated. “At least we’re not naked in a sauna this time.”
His head cocked to the side, and his normal, arrogant manner returning. “To me, that’s not the plus you seem to think it is.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have my phone on me. Do you?”