Page 16 of Tempt Me
“Yeah.” She stroked a finger between his eyes and onto his forehead. He seemed to smile in his sleep.
Despite my mother’s no-pet policy, my sister Sam’s dog, Bilbo Baggins, had his own spot under the table at family brunch. When I babysat for Jackson and Alicia, their cat, Tigger, usually made an appearance. I’d never known anyone with a pet hedgehog. The novelty must have been what made my brain slip a gear, so the most ridiculous question popped out of my mouth. “Does he sleep in your bed?”
“No. He’s nocturnal. He has a habitat in the second bedroom.”
“Is that why he’s sleeping now?” His little pink feet stuck up from his fluffy, white belly. He was adorable. And a lot quieter than Bilbo.
“Um.” She looked down at him and stroked his forehead again. “No, he’s tired. When you rang the bell, we were—” She sat up straighter. “We were dancing.”
It was all I could do to keep my mouth from falling open in shock. “Dancing? Like onDancing with the Stars?”
“I guess. If he’s the star, and if it’s always hip-hop night.”
I let my gaze wander from her glowing face to her bare shoulder. It reminded me of that old movie I’d watched with one of my nannies,Flashdance.“And only you wear the costumes.”
“We left his in the gym. The sequins make him itch.”
I widened my eyes. “Seriously?”
“Nah, I’m pulling your leg, baby.”
“Oh.” I tugged the hem of my skirt over my knees.
“So if your family’s okay, why are you here? You’re not already shilling for Jackson’s foundation, are you? I donated last year. Wait.” She winced. “Are you mad about the PETA comment? I didn’t know you hadn’t told them you’d dropped out of culinary school.”
“No, it’s fine.” Twisting my ring, I said, “I was going to tell them. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”
“They aren’t mad, are they?”
“They’re disappointed I’ve quit. If I don’t find something else soon, Mother will start pushing me to marry someone suitable. But that’s not why I’m here.” I took a deep breath. “I want to talk to you about your PR situation.”
Lifting her chin to stare at the ceiling, Jamila sighed. “That again? I thought you were interested in programming. I could help you with that.”
“You’ve got programmers.” With a heroic effort, I kept from curling my lip at the memory of Rhiannon’s dismissal. “Public relations is what you need help with.”
“Did you have to fight any paps to get into my neighborhood?”
“No.”
“Were they staked out on my lawn?”
“No.”
“Because that’s what happened when my neighbor the next street over got caught insider trading. My ‘PR situation’”—she made air quotes—“is already over. They’ve moved on.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.” I’d been following the story in theJournal,and it had a ton of comments (and racial and misogynistic slurs), but I wasn’t about to tell her about those.
“Natalie.” She lasered me with her glare. “I’ve been in this industry longer than you. I know the kind of shit that makes the news and the kind that doesn’t. This is the kind of thing that pops up on a slow news day, then the next week, everyone is back on their bullshit chasing actual corporate miscreants.”
“But what if Monday is a slow news day too? What if you’re the closest thing to a corporate miscreant they have to chase?”
“Chasing requires a runner. I’m not doing that. I’m going to walk into my office tomorrow and do my work. Nothing to see here.” She held up the hand that wasn’t cradling Quill.i.am.
“I think you should let Mateo drive you to work tomorrow. Just in case.”
“Not happening. I’m driving myself to work like the grown-ass woman I am.”
I shook my head. Jamila was stubborn. It was one of the reasons she was so successful. The wordquitwasn’t in her vocabulary.
