Chapter 57
Anna
In the nearly empty parking lot, I stared at the stylish dark-haired woman whose ass was leaning against the door of my car – or more accuratelyFlynn'scar, considering that he was the one who actually owned it.
I'd just returned from walking Becka up to our apartment and saying a quick hello to my mom.
After this, I was in no mood for further grief.
I'd already received plenty thanks to my mom's snippiness after learning that Becka had gotten lunchanddinner, while my mom had gotten nothing.
I could see her point, but in my own defense, she hadn't been home either time, so it's not like I could've invited her anyway.
Still, the encounter hadn't helped my mood, and neither had the sight of the stranger.
I didn't knowwhoshe was, but I was pretty sure I knewwhatshe was and why she was here.
Without bothering to smile, I said, "Can I help you?"
Smiling big enough for both of us, she replied, "Actually, I'm here to helpyou."
I'd heard this pitch before. Over the last few weeks, I'd been approached by several so-called reporters. All of them had been fast-talking coastal types looking to get the inside dirt on my relationship with Flynn.
I didn't give her the chance. "I’m not interested in selling a story if that's what you're suggesting."
Her smile faded. "It doesn't have to be a story—"
"Or pictures."
"Okaaaay—"
"And before you ask, I don't have any videos either." I held up a hand. "And I'm not willing to get any."
Her lips pursed. "Sounds like you've got your bases covered."
Did I ever.The funny thing was, I'd been offered nearly as much money for secret dirt on Flynn ashewas paying me for pretending to be his girlfriend. If I were any less ethnical, I'd be cleaning up right about now.
But a deal was a deal, and I didn't plan on breaking it.
With a little smirk, this latest reporter said, "Are you sure you don't want to get it while you can?"
"Get what?"
"Payment."
I wasalreadybeing paid – by Flynn, not that I'd be sharing that little nugget of information. I replied, "I'm not interested."
She gave me a long, calculating look. "It's not going to last, you know."
Something squeezed at my heart. She was right, but not in the way she thought. "If you mean me and Flynn," I said, "that's none of your business."
She crossed her arms. "So, should I just wait for the press release?"
"What press release?"
"Didn't you know? With celebrities, there's usually a press release." In a mock newscaster voice, she said, "Flynn Archer and…" She paused. "…what's your name, again, sweetie?"
As if she didn't know.I gave her my snottiest smile. "Waffle Waitress."
