On-Air Passion. Lindsay Evans

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On-Air Passion - Lindsay Evans


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was that?” Ahmed looked at her, amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

      Shaye giggled then moved to Clive’s desk, her iPhone screen held out for him to see what else she had planned.

      For God’s sake... “Not like that!” Elle gritted her teeth and fought in vain against the tide of heat rising in her face. “What I mean is I don’t want to do anything at night. The date. An afternoon outing should be fine.”

      Ahmed had the nerve to actually laugh at her, white teeth flashing, the corners of his mouth tucked up. “Why? Do you think you won’t be able to resist me if we go out together at night?”

      Elle rolled her eyes. “Resisting you won’t be a problem,” she lied. “But I’d rather not waste any of my weekend nights doing this. I’m sure you feel the same way.”

      “I doubt you have any idea what I’m feeling, princess.” And something unnamed moved across his face, not annoyance exactly but something from the same family.

      “I told you not to call me that.” The words flew from between her teeth, sharp and cutting, catching even her off guard. Immediately, she regretted her tone.

      The hum of conversation in the room between Shaye and Clive stopped. Even the bodyguard’s attention flew toward Elle in a snap of his pale brown gaze. But she refused to backtrack.

      Ahmed’s gaze was as inscrutable as his cousin’s. But where his cousin seemed only vaguely curious, Ahmed watched her with a laser-like focus that made her want to squirm in her chair. But she kept absolutely still and met him stare for stare.

      He leaned forward in his chair, arms braced against his thighs, a frown between his expressive eyes. “Listen, can we talk privately for a few minutes?”

      “No.” Elle didn’t want to talk with him at all. The thought of being closer to him and in a private space filled her with an anxiety she didn’t want to name. “I have nothing to say to you that you can’t address right here and now.”

      If she thought the silence in the room had been disturbing before, it was just about deafening now. Shaye and everyone else in the room stared openly at them. At Elle.

      A muscle worked in Ahmed’s jaw and he made an audible sound of frustration. “Do you have a problem with me?”

      “No, I don’t. But you seem to have a problem with me.” Unease rippled across Elle’s shoulders, tightening her muscles painfully. Were any of the potential gains even worth this hassle? “We probably shouldn’t do this,” she said, fully expecting him to agree with her.

      But he shook his head. “We already agreed, so we might as well do this. I don’t go back on my word.”

      “But I do?”

      His look loudly said what his mouth did not.

      She jumped to her feet. “You don’t get to imply—”

      But Clive stood up, too. “I think we should all calm down and keep things in perspective.” He turned to Elle, but she backed away from him, keeping her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes on Ahmed. “I’m sure Ahmed didn’t mean to insult you. He just doesn’t get to mingle with polite company very often. Right?” His pointed look in Ahmed’s direction only yielded a shrug and setting back of broad shoulders against the leather chair. “Let’s do this and get it over with. This promo is a win-win for everybody. We just have to see it through.”

      “I agree.” Shaye tucked away her phone. “Everything will be great. Just smile a little for the camera, look like you don’t want to kill each other and we’ll all be better off at the end of this thing.”

      It was like she and Clive had conspired to be the Ahmed and Elle—aka Team Train Wreck—cheerleaders. This wasn’t going to work the way either of them planned, Elle could feel it.

      Shaye cleared her throat. “I think we’re done here. Great decisions, everyone.” She took a page from Clive’s book and clapped her hands with a sharp note of finality, of a decision made. “I’ll put the date together and we’ll go from there.” Shaye moved closer, lowering her voice. “Are you okay, Elle?” Everything about her body language pleaded with Elle to finish what they’d started with Ahmed and the radio spot.

      “Fine.” She gave her friend a look that clearly said she wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot. Then she pasted a neutral expression on her face. “So, by Friday we’ll have this all sorted out?”

      “Um...yes.” Shaye made a few quick notations in her phone’s notes app then went quickly around the room collecting phone numbers from everyone but the bodyguard. “I’ll contact Ahmed with the details, and we can arrange the date for this Saturday afternoon?” She made the last bit a question, looking at Elle.

      “That sounds good to me. Ahmed?” Elle turned a closed smile on him and waited for him to agree.

      “Yes, this Saturday afternoon is fine for me.” He glanced briefly around the room, eyes touching each person before landing once more on Elle. “Can Elle and I have the room, please?”

      She blinked in surprise. Who the hell did he think he was? She’d already made it clear that she didn’t want to talk to him alone. Elle drew herself up to her full height of five foot nine and prepared to refuse his order. But before she could say anything, everyone quickly left the room.

      What the...?

      The door clicked shut behind them all before she could say any of the things ready to fly from her tongue.

      “Elle...” Ahmed’s tone was almost conciliatory.

      But she wasn’t in the mood to hear anything he had to say. When he reached out to her, she shrugged off his touch before it could even make contact. Her spine felt tight, brittle enough to snap.

      “Everything is fine. We’ll do this date then never have to be alone again. As long as we all get our money’s worth, right?”

      “Wrong.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and frowned down at her from his much greater height. “Would you just let me apologize?” He barreled on before she could tell him to where to stick his too-late apology. “I know we—” he held up his hands when she opened her mouth to remind him exactly who had started this war “—I got off on the wrong foot with you, and I want to say I’m sorry for that. There’s no reason we can’t go on this so-called date being at least cordial with each other. I don’t want to suffer through a couple of hours of your company, and I’m sure you feel the same way about mine.”

      Just exactly what was his game? Even in the office, he had been flippant to the point of being rude. And now he wanted to kiss and make up? It didn’t make any sense. But if he wanted to pretend, she could do it with the best of them.

      “Fine,” she said. “Apology accepted. All’s right with the world. Are you happy now?” But she didn’t want for him to answer. She turned on the heel of her lavender stilettos and wrenched open the door. Clive, Shaye and the bodyguard were only a few feet away from the office door. She was surprised the bodyguard had left Ahmed alone with her.

      Clive’s eyes crinkled with amusement when he saw her. He stepped away from Shaye and approached Elle. “Are you sure we can’t have a camera guy follow you and Ahmed that afternoon? He wouldn’t be in the way.”

      Elle barely kept a smile on her face and the civility on her tongue. “No, Clive. Just no.”

      Shaye appeared at Elle’s shoulder while brushing an invisible piece of lint from the clinging material of her blouse. “I think it’ll be much more interesting and more fun to have them talk about the date on the air,” her friend said, and Clive seemed unable to look away from the nearly caressing motion of her hand on her own chest. “That way, you won’t have all that dead air and boring meal chitchat on film. With them back on the radio, you can get to the meat of the story that much faster.” Shaye said the word meat with far too much pleasure.

      But


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