Page 11 of PR Stunt

His gaze traces my features like he’s memorizing every shift in my expression.

“Careful, sweetheart. People might start thinking I actually get to you.”

The words coil around my spine, infuriatingly smug. I refuse to react, but across the table, I catch the flirty woman watching, wide-eyed, her attention bouncing between us like she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t. My stomach twists not because I care what she thinks, but because I care what everyone thinks, and a public outburst is so unlike me. I straighten, smoothing my napkin over my lap.

“Your ego is exhausting,” I snipe, voice just above a whisper.

“And yet here you are, still talking to me.”

“There’s a difference between engaging and tolerating.”

His blue eyes glint. “Maybe. But it’s so fun watching that perfectly curated mask of yours start to fracture.”

A flicker of heat rushes up my neck. “I don’t wear a mask,” I hiss, more defensive than I mean to be, but the words are already out.

“Then stop hiding behind it,” he challenges.

Without a second thought, I reach out, pluck his numbered bid paddle off the table, and toss it into the air without even checking the bid.

The auctioneer perks up immediately. “Sold!”

He hammers the gavel down with finality, grinning as he announces, “Mr. Cole, we have you down for a bid of one hundred and fifty thousand for an all-star charity obstacle race. Teams will take on mud pits, climbing walls, and a series of surprise challenges!”

Grayson exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly as he turns to me, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. “Now, that was rash.”

I smile and then finish the rest of my champagne. The auction continues, paddle after paddle lifting into the air as celebrities outbid each other for extravagant experiences and signed memorabilia. I chat with a few people around the table, trade a few strategic words with Daniel, and let the rest of the night unfold the way these things always do.

Anna steps in beside me as the crowd begins to thin. “Solid night. You made the right impressions. And from the looks of it, you and Grayson got along.”

I smooth the fabric of my dress and give her a look. “We’re circling back to that.”

“Oh, by the way, your donation to Silver Lining went through. One hundred thousand. Nice move. That’ll definitely put your name in the press release.”

I shake my head. “Anna, I didn’t do it for that reason, and you know that.”

She gives me a knowing look. “Charlie, I know that. Don’t worry. I know you’re a genuine person and all, but it’ll look good either way.”

I push to my feet and take one last glance at Grayson. He’s deep in conversation with Miranda. I shake my head. It’s time to go home. I turn and make my way toward the exit, my heels clicking against the marble floor as I follow Anna out. My mind is still wound too tightly from the night, from the conversations, from… A hand closes lightly around my arm.

“Thanks for an entertaining night,” Grayson says. “And if you change your mind, my offer still stands. I promise I won’t take up too much of your precious time, Charlie.”

I turn, offering him a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Enjoy the mud.”

His self-assured smile deepens, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I pull my arm free.

“Bye, Grayson.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Chapter 6

The rain patters softly against my office windows, a steady, rhythmic sound that should be soothing. The sort of afternoon that invites you to curl up with a book and disappear. I shift in the oversized reading chair, tucking my legs under me, the spine of my novel open to the same page I’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes. I reread the passage again, but the words blur together, failing to stick. I sigh, adjusting the throw blanket draped over my lap. A second ago, I was too hot. Now, I’m too cold.

I push the blanket off.

A minute later, I pull it back up.

Annoyed, I sit up straighter, rolling my shoulders and trying to shake the restless energy that’s been clinging to me all day. The rain picks up, streaking down the windows. Normally, I don’t mind weather like this—it reminds me of home—but today it makes everything feel too quiet. I turn another page. I have no idea what I just read again.