Calendar Girl: October: Book 10 (9 page)

“Hey, runs in the family. Dad said I was close to ten pounds, too. You and your fella better watch out.” He laughed into the phone.

I wanted to reach through the line and pinch him! “You’re evil. I take back everything I ever said,” I huffed.

“Spoil sport! Glad you like the surprise. I love you, Sis.”

And the waterworks were back. Jesus, I felt like my life had become a series of Hallmark greeting cards. Every new card I picked up was a water fight. “I love you too, Maximus. Take care.”

“Will do. Go back to bed. What are you doing on the phone so early anyway?”

Before I could come up with a wicked retort he hung up. Damn, first Gin won the phone battle and now Max. I was off my game.

I sighed just as two arms spun me around, and I nuzzled into Wes’s chest. “Hey.” I snuggled into his warmth like a baby kitten and found the comfy spot. He stroked my hair and hummed.

“Your family okay?”

I nodded into his chest. “Yep. Cyndi is good, baby has an epically cool name, and I’m an auntie twice over.”

“How’s that feel?” Wes murmured, but it sounded really far away. The exhaustion had taken its toll. Even though the news was good and I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, I was nodding off.

“It feels…it feels perfect.”

A
n assistant led
me through the door of the office of the show’s executive producer at Century Productions. Leona Markham looked young for her age, but I kept that thought to myself. In order to have the position she held, she was probably well into her forties but didn’t look a day over thirty. Her hair was a thick mane of brown curls down to her shoulders that complimented her butterscotch eyes. She rocked a pristine white suit with devastatingly sharp black patent leather stilettos. Her skirt was so tight it molded to her toned frame like a second skin. From her solid calves to her sleek jawline, this woman had spent some time putting herself together, and it worked for her. Boy, did it work for her. She was smokin’ hot. I could only hope to look that good at her age.

As I sat down, she cast a gaze over my simple A-line skirt, silk tank, and wedge sandals. I wasn’t due to tape today, so I’d left the fancy duds at home. Actually, Wes and I had just finished the third editing session for the newest segment for Living Beautiful. It was about a firehouse in East LA that took in rescue puppies and trained them to serve as working animals for the physically and mentally handicapped and wounded warriors. The firemen took turns training the dogs to pick up things, open doors, get help, watch out for safety obstacles, and most importantly, provide love. They’d shown me in a scant couple days how much the dogs they’d trained affected the lives of the people they gifted the dogs to. It was a win-win for everyone.

“Ms. Saunders—” she started, but I stopped her.

“Mia’s fine.” I smiled, took a seat, and clasped my hands together on my lap.

“Thank you, Mia. Leona is fine as well.”

I nodded and waited to find out why I was here. Before she could say anything, the door burst open and Dr. Hoffman and his starry-eyed assistant, Shandi, entered.

“Sorry I’m late. Shandi and I were just looking over the initial notes on the fireman/rescue dog piece Mia just edited with her fiancé, Mr. Channing.”

The bravado with which he said Wes’s name made me roll my eyes. Of course, Leona was watching my reaction, not the good doctor’s. Her lips curved into a smirk, and I chuckled under my breath.

“Mia, darling, the piece”—he lifted his fingers to his mouth and kissed them the way an Italian mother straight from Sicily would—“ is magnificent. Brilliant. I knew, I just
knew
, you’d be a great addition to the show. Was I wrong, Leona?”

Leona sat down behind her monstrous desk, placed her elbows on the top of her calendar, and held her hands under her chin. “No. You were not. As a matter of fact, that’s what you’re here today to talk about, Mia.” Before she spoke, she pressed a couple buttons on her phone. “Ms. Milan, are you there?”

My aunt’s voice rang through crisp and clear on the speaker phone. “I am. Thank you for having me. Now, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

This time, I looked down and tried to breathe through my desire to snort with laughter. Millie only talked with a high-handed tone when she wanted something or wanted to impress someone. I had a feeling it was the latter.

“I called you both here alongside Dr. Hoffman because we have some news and a proposition we’d like to make the two of you.”

Wes had said this might happen. I held my breath, not wanting to hope. Heck, I was too afraid to hope. On pins and needles, I sat up straighter and waited.

“In case you haven’t noticed, the show is doing extremely well. Since Mia’s first segment for Living Beautiful, our audience has increased by twenty-five percent. We figured the first segment was so well received not only because of the content but also the fact that you and Mr. Channing have been recently in the news. The press surrounding his captivity and the speculation around the movie being scrapped could have been the reason for the first airing going well. However, the second added an additional ten percent to our daily viewers. The day your second segment aired, we had an additional five million viewers.”

I frowned. “So what does that mean in English?” I asked, not wanting to sound stupid, but it could be a lot, or it could mean that I wasn’t getting enough new viewers. Honestly, I would have no idea one way or the other. There were over three hundred million people living in the United States. I had no way to gauge if five million more viewers were enough.

Leona sat back in her chair, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “That means when you’re on, fifteen million people are watching you, as opposed to Dr. Hoffman’s average daily viewership of nine to ten million.”

“Wow!” I let the single word say it all. Now that definitely meant I was kicking some serious ass.

Dr. Hoffman beamed and sat down in the chair next to me. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the sideboard that held an array of drinks. Shandi popped away from the wall she was leaning against to get him whatever his silent request was.

Without even thinking, I snarled and made a gag noise.

“What?” he looked at me indifferently.

I scowled. “Really? You just snapped your fingers at your assistant. Totally rude!” I shook my head and locked gazes with Leona. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

She chuckled. “No, you were right. He was out of line.” She hooked a thumb towards Drew. “Unfortunately, that’s also part of his charm. The unknowing bastard.” The way she said it made it seem complimentary, though it was anything but.

Drew huffed and smirked as Shandi handed him a tumbler of what I gathered was rum and coke since the Malibu was still out and an opened can of Coca-Cola sat next to it. “Thank you, dear one,” Drew cooed at Shandi, and like a proud kitty that had caught a bird and laid the dead carcass at his feet, she radiated her happiness.

Wanting to get back to the editing room to a decidedly more attractive man, who was teaching me everything about forming a great story and waiting patiently, I clapped my hands on my thighs, getting both their attention. “Was there more?”

“In a hurry?” Leona asked while sitting back in her leather chair. She was a queen on her throne and the studio her castle.

I could have lied, but I’d been working on that. Wes was teaching me that honesty truly was the best policy in all things. “Yeah, kind of. Wes is waiting back in editing. We’re finalizing the Service is Beautiful segment for Friday’s show.”

Leona nodded. “I’m sure it will be a hit. Are you still there, Ms. Milan?” she asked randomly.

My aunt’s voice crackled through the phone. “Barely. You’re lucky I’ve got paperwork to do while the three of you dribble along. Can we get to the point? I’ve got things to attend to in the next fifteen minutes.” Her words were direct, and I liked that about my auntie. When she was in business mode, she never minced words or wasted time. It was a quality I appreciated in general.

Leona smiled and tapped her desk. “Well, to the point, your ratings and those of the show are increasing exponentially. We obviously want to capitalize on that. So what Dr. Hoffman and Century Productions have agreed upon is that we’d like to offer you a regular spot on the show. You will continue the weekly Living Beautiful segment, but starting in November, we’d like to shift your time on the show up considerably.”

“In what capacity?” Millie asked.

“Well, our initial thought is to have Mia participate in regular segments on the show alongside Dr. Hoffman. She has the look and appeals to the younger audience.” Her gaze shot to Drew’s. “Not that you’re old, but you are twenty years her senior. Having a twenty-five-year-old weighing in on certain things, interviewing younger artists and celebrities, might really vamp up the show.”

I turned to Drew. “Doc, you’re okay with this? I mean, if what she’s talking about is true, you’d be sharing some air time with me in a way you’ve never done before. Are you sure that’s what you want?” I asked.

As much as I wanted to jump up and down and shout out, “Yes, pick me, pick me!” I had to consider that I’d be working with someone who had been a loner for a long time. This might not be something he was down for. And if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t work. He’d have it out for me, and I’d seen that ugly side of this business, It never went well.

Drew leaned forward and grabbed my hand with both of his. Inappropriate? Yes. Totally. Just like Drew? The unknowing bastard as Leona put it? Absolutely. “Mia, darling, it was my idea.”

I cast a glance at Leona, and she nodded, pursing her lips.

“Why?” I asked, somewhat hushed.

He slid back after patting my hand twice. “I’m not getting any younger. No, I’m not ancient, but there are things I still want to do. Spend time with my wife for example.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “You’ve seen her.”

Chuckling, I nodded.

“Also, I’ve been out of the medical community for too long, aside from the general celebrity clientele I make it a point to see when needed. It’s making me rusty. If we get to the point six months to a year from now where you can take on half the load, I can do more, consult on special cases, expand my clientele, etcetera. Really, it’s a win-win. And with you being a rising star…sky’s the limit, darling.”

Man, I hated when he called me darling. It always sounded icky even though I know he meant it as a compliment.

“If, and that’s a big if, Mia is interested in doing this, we’ll need numbers, work hours, travel commitments, and pay detailed out. There’s only one more week in the month.” Millie’s voice rang over the clacking of her nails against the keys. “I’m setting up engagements for Mia now for November and December. If you want her to consider this, I’ll need your proposal by tomorrow afternoon.”

I narrowed my eyebrows, looking at the phone as if it would clarify the load of horseshit Auntie just spewed. I knew for a fact she wasn’t making any arrangements because I told her once I was done with this month, I wasn’t taking anything else on. I’d pay Max back and figure it out, though this offer was my dream. A regular spot on a daytime television program? Steady work doing something I loved? Twisting my hands into fists below the table, I prayed Millie knew what she was doing and didn’t screw this opportunity up for me. Faith. I had to have faith. She’d gotten me this far. There was no reason to believe she wouldn’t consider my best interests for the future as well.

Leona cocked her head to the side as if considering the timeline Millie set. “Fine. I’ll get my team working on it now. You’ll have it to you by close of business tomorrow.”

“Excellent. If there isn’t anything else, I’m going to bid you all adieu. Mia, dollface, we’ll chat later tonight. I’ll call you.”

“Thanks Au-—, uh, Ms. Milan,” I corrected. They didn’t need to know our little secret. Mostly because it was none of their business.

The line clicked off and I stood. “So I can get back to work?”

Leona smiled and stood, putting out her hand. “I hope we’ll be congratulating you on being a part of the official Century Productions family very soon.”

I grinned and shuffled over to the door. Once I grabbed the handle, I stopped and turned around. Three sets of eyes watched, waiting for me to speak. “You know, this year has been the strangest and most surprising of my life, but not until today did I feel like, career-wise, I was in the right place, doing what I was supposed to do. Thank you for giving me an idea of what I want out of my professional life.”

Leona pushed a curl back behind her ear and raised an eyebrow. “The question now is, do you believe that the year brought you here for a reason? And furthermore, does that mean your place is working here with us, on this show?” I could tell by the tightness in her jaw, by how straight she held her spine as she stood, that my answer meant something to her.

Without even taking a moment to think about it, I answered, “For now, and for the foreseeable future, yes, I do. I can’t wait to get to work!” I shrugged, pulled open the door, closed it behind me, and skipped to the elevator that would lead me back to Wes and the segment we were working on together. He was going to trip out when I told him the good news. I’d be staying in Malibu, I had a job offer, and at some point, I’d be marrying the man of my dreams. From nothing to something in the span of ten months. Incredible.

W
es was insanely
happy for me. We celebrated by drinking too much champagne, making love on the open beach where we started our morning surfing, and tumbling salty and sandy into our big bed. Wes did have twisted dreams that night, only his response was very different.

I felt him startle awake but there was no scream. Still, I knew the routine, so I moved to jump out of our bed, talk him off his cliff, and then love him with every inch of my body until the only thing left in his head was us and our love, but he stopped me with a forcible lock of his arm around my waist. He was hard as a rock against my bum, and without thinking, I tilted my hips, brushing against it. He hissed, his breath flitting across the shell of my ear, taunting me into submission.

“Sweetheart, I’m fine.” His tone was harsh, but the fact that he used an endearment was a plus.

“Do you love me?” I asked instantly. It had worked every other time, but something had changed tonight, almost as if the script or routine had been rewritten.

Wes’s hand moved down, and he cupped my sex. Instantly, wetness coated his fingers when he pushed two of them inside me.

I moaned low and deep. “Baby…do you love me?” I asked again.

He bit down on my shoulder, pushing the satin string down to fall against my bicep. “Yes. I love every
fucking
inch of you. I love
fucking
you. I
fucking
love you,” he growled and pushed another finger in, impaling three thick digits into the heart of me, over and over. I arched into his ministrations and reached behind me to loop an arm around his neck.

“Where are you, baby?” I asked through the haze of lust, my hips moving in counterpoint to his shallow thrusts.

“In you,” he responded while licking up my neck. His other hand came around and held my chin aloft.

Like a ninja, he twisted and pushed me face down into the mattress, his blessed fingers gone. I groaned my irritation.