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After swallowing a giant gulp of my soda, she folded her legs underneath her and angled her body toward me. “Did he call any more today? And are you really not going to call him back?” She cocked her head to the side, giving me a disapproving glare.

“He didn’t call me again. And no, I’m not going to call him back. Why are you looking at me like you think I should? Last night before the concert you hated him too, you know?”

“But that was BOSH,” she said matter-of-factly, as if I had any idea what BOSH meant. When she saw my confused expression, she said slowly, “Before. On. Stage. Happened.”

I huffed out a deep breath, torn between half wanting to strangle my best friend, or end this conversation entirely by going into my bedroom and locking my door. “How does that change anything?”

“It changes everything, Madison! You didn’t see what you two looked like up there. It was fucking nuts, and I’m not the only one who noticed it. Half the lot was talking about it today.”

Heat spread over my face at the mere mention of people on a studio lot talking about my encounter with Walker. “They were not,” I said, my voice coming out more defensive than I had intended. Finishing off the last of the soda, I placed the empty can on the coffee table at my feet.

“They were. Anyway, I think you should call him. It’s not like you’re dating anyone. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been on any dates at all. What do you have to lose?”

“My pride? My dignity? My sterling reputation,” I said with a laugh as she swatted my shoulder. Why was I so hell-bent against this anyway? Part of me couldn’t remember anymore. Oh right, because Walker was the kind of guy who went out with a different girl every night. And those were not merely rumors. I’d seen the pictures. Plus, guys like him were on my Do Not Date list. At the very top.

She reached across her body for the soda and grimaced as she realized it was already empty. With an oomph, she pushed off the couch and walked into the kitchen, her voice raised an octave. “Listen, Mads. I know this goes against our personal rules and stuff. You know, we don’t date musicians, singers, actors, professional athletes, news anchors, yada yada, but I don’t think it can hurt anything if you call this guy.”

Part of the reason why Keri and I got along so well when we first met in college was that we possessed a similar work ethic. Call it occupational hazard, but both of us had insisted it wasn’t in our best interest to date any potential future clientele. We both knew what we wanted to be when we grew up, unlike our other friends in college who appeared to only want to major in drinking and the inevitable post-drinking puke fest. One night in our dorm room, we made a list of everyone we refused to date based on their occupations alone. It might have been childish at the time, but we had both stuck with it and it had worked for us.

So far.

I’d seen quite a few of my coworkers fall hard for our clients, even though it went against the rules of the agency. It still happened and it never seemed to end well for my associates when the relationship eventually ended. And it always did.

I pressed my head against the back of the couch and covered my eyes with my hands. It dipped slightly as Keri sat back down with her own soda in hand. If there was a God, I was convinced in this moment that he or she existed.

“Anyway, listen to this,” I began, and she leaned her body closer to mine, her eyes widening with interest as her lips puckered against the heaven-sent can. “Paige came in the office today and she told me that she’s the one who gave Walker my number.”

Keri fought to keep the liquid in her mouth as she choked down a swallow. “Shut the hell up! How? Why?”

“I guess he called her asking questions and she let it slip that we knew each other. He asked her for my number. She said he was really determined.”

Keri tapped against her lips with one finger, obviously lost in thought. “I think you should call him. See what he wants. Maybe he’ll stop calling then?”

My heart rate picked up speed. The idea of calling him made me nervous and I searched for the true reasons when it hit me. “This guy could throw me all off course. I’ve worked really hard at the agency and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my career. Least of all get involved with someone like Walker and become gossip fodder. My boss would never stand for it,” I admitted.

Keri’s face lit up with acknowledgme

nt and understanding. “It would be really easy to get lost in his lifestyle. But I think you’re way stronger than you give yourself credit for. I’ve said my piece. Call him. Don’t call him. I’ll still love you the same.”

“Thanks.” I smiled, feeling slightly better about the whole bizarre situation.

The red light flashed on my office phone and I was half tempted to pretend it didn’t exist as memories of yesterday’s voice mails replayed in my mind. Reluctantly, I pressed the button and allowed the messages to filter through the air on speakerphone while I filed some of last night’s paperwork into the appropriate client files at the other side of the room.

“Madison, it’s Walker again. I need you to call me back. Please don’t make me beg on your voice mail every night.”

I raced over to the phone to pick it up and stop it from playing out loud, but it was too late.

“I mean, I will. But it’s sort of embarrassing, don’t you think?”

The message ended and I wished I could reach into the stupid air and grab his voice from it and stuff it back inside the phone where no one else would hear. How could I be so stupid?

Jayson’s voice boomed from behind his office door. “Madison, get in here.”

Shit.

He had to have heard that. Sucking in a deep breath, I opened the door and entered his lair. He motioned for me to sit down, something he rarely did, and I willed my tense body to relax.

“Why does Walker Rhodes keep calling here?” Jayson asked, his tone tinged with equal parts annoyance and intrigue.


Tags: J. Sterling The Celebrity Romance