It had taken a full week of being with her almost every waking minute of the day for her to admit that she loved him, without technically doing so. A wild and intense week, sure, where they were some of the very few sane people. They stuck together for survival, and his determination and her ambition had seen to it that it continued. He didn’t have time and resources like that in the real world. She wasn’t under contract with his resort anymore, which was what had forced her to put up with him from the start.
Without that, he had nothing.
He’d told her he loved her so often he’d worn it out. He didn’t even say it anymore; there was no use. He’d stopped texting her, and now called only twice a week, just to see if things had changed.
It was time to stop.
He closed his eyes and chewed the inside of his cheek. He’d never been so disappointed to get mail in his life as when the lawyers brought him the disc of pictures from her. Mindlessly, he’d gone through and picked out some for specific purposes and asked the resort manager to order the sizes they needed for placement, then sent the others off to advertising. He didn’t know what he’d expected from her when this was done.
He hadn’t really expected anything. How could he when expectations weren’t getting him anywhere?
The money was hers, and her name was getting out there, which was what he wanted. He made sure his associates with vacation properties and resorts were sent the details of her work, as they always shared good business opportunities with each other. And so far, no one had called him back.
He needed to be careful with his recommendations. If Mal hated him now, for whatever reason, she might not want his connections. And she would really hate being given contracts like it was Christmas. She wanted to earn them on her own merit, for her work to speak for itself. And he wanted that for her, too. She had worked too hard to be handed things, and she had too much talent for that.
All he needed to do was ensure that her name got around in the right circles. Envy and need would do the rest.
His phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?”
“Boss man.”
His brow furrowed, and he looked at the screen, his eyes going wide at the name. “Dan? How did you get my number?”
“You called me last week, dude.”
Hunter barely avoided slapping himself in the head. “Right. And you guys all have my numbers programmed into your phone, right? To avoid them? Probably under a code name?”
“Correct, sir.”
“What’s the code name?” he asked with a wince, not sure he wanted to know.
“Depends on the person. I can’t vouch for anyone else, but in my phone… Red October.”
He almost smiled. “I’m a Russian sub?”
“It’s ironic. You’re trying to defect, and the US isn’t communicating with you or going to believe you. And nobody’s really sure if they’re supposed to help you or blow you up.”
Hunter raised a brow and smiled slightly. “That is ironic. Who are you in this scenario?”
“Alec Baldwin.”
“You’re on my side?” he asked in surprise, jerking in his chair a little.
“Could be. Just hoping I’m not wrong about you, honestly.”
“I can handle that,” he said with a nod, his tension abating slightly. “And who is Taryn?”
“James Earl Jones.” Dan laughed, his voice crackling on static. “She’s the higher-up running the show, but she was never here.”
“You guys are nuts,” Hunter told him, leaning forward and resting his head in one hand.
“Do you want allies or not?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. I have no idea what the story is. She’s not talking, and I’m not asking. She’s got this deal coming with Yellowstone for the fall that should set her up nicely. She went to Maine over the weekend and got some nice shots, decided she’s going to get way more specific in her terms and the use of whatever she gets.”
Hunter nodded, smiling wider. “Smart girl. She’s earned her place at that table. Why not use it?”