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“I don’t know…”
She pats my shoulder. “Just think it over. He might surprise you. What have you got to lose, really?”
My pride, I think bitterly. My dignity.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her only halfheartedly.
“Good.” She flashes me a grin. “Now I can tell you that Gia wants to see you in her office.”
I groan. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“And send you up there looking like a kicked puppy? Had to sort out your shit first.”
“I don’t exactly feel ‘sorted.’ ”
“Well, I’m a producer, not a therapist.”
“Junior producer.”
“A friend wouldn’t correct me.”
I feel a grin spreading on my own face now. “Yeah, well. You’re an asshole, remember?”
“Fair.” She gives me a shooing motion. “Run along.” She pauses midstep before frowning at me. “And there’s still flour in your hair, by the way.”
I glare up at my forehead.
Of course.
Gia, to my relief, looks ecstatic when I plop down into one of the chairs in her office.
“Have you seen the buzz around you and Ian?”
She turns the monitor to her desktop to point out an article I haven’t seen yet to prove her point, one that has a picture of Ian and me from the play day front and center—me leaning over the railing by the rink as he smiles down at me. Another flick of her fingers on the mouse pad reveals a shot where he leaned into my ear, and I would be willing to bet that if you zoomed in, you’d be able to see my goose bumps. It makes my chest feel gooey.
“Haven’t seen that one,” I tell her. “But I’ve definitely seen a few.”
“Everyone is head over heels at the idea of the two of you,” she says gleefully. “Also, it’s spilling over into coverage of the show. I’ve already seen two articles stemming from one of the two of you highlighting Whisk-y Business.”
“And the numbers? Have we seen any changes?”
“Slight uptick,” she tells me. “Not as much as I’d like, not yet, but it’s a good start.” She gives me an assuring look. “It’s only been a couple of weeks. At this rate, it’s going to go just like we want it to.”
“Let’s hope,” I say, still feeling a little bummed out at the idea of subjecting myself to more torture that is being close to Ian and knowing he’ll only ever see me as a friend.
“I was actually hoping we could get Ian on for another episode,” she says.
My eyebrows raise. “What?”
“It’s just that the first one did so well, and now with all the buzz around the two of you…Another episode is bound to do better, numbers-wise. We could even play up the ‘are they, aren’t they?’ more this go-round. A little more flirting, things like that.”
It’s a struggle, keeping my face passive and not letting it rumple into frustration like it wants to. “I don’t know if Ian will have time for another.”
“Oh, surely he will be up for it? The Druids are getting some good buzz from this too. Plus, I spoke with his PR manager just yesterday, and they’re seeing a large decline in negative posts about Ian and his past. That alone will be enough incentive for him to agree, I think.”
Fuck.
Part of me wants to refuse, even if just for my own sanity’s sake. Flirting with Ian on camera? Can I really survive that, knowing that it’s completely fake? But then again…How can I say no, knowing that this is helping him, that what we’re doing is making his life a little easier?
