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“Here. I’ll get rid of them.” I pick up the receiver and drop it, silencing it. “You can keep going.”
She nods, still staring at the phone. “I, um—”
My cell rings next, and I groan as I pull it out of my pocket and look at the display. “It’s Angelina. She must’ve been the one calling.” And from what I’ve found, she doesn’t respond well tono. “Would you mind waiting a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She drops in one of the guest chairs as I answer my phone, Angelina skipping any pleasantries to bluntly ask me, “Have you seen the photos?”
I sigh, sinking into my own chair. I can just imagine the PR crisis she has on the horizon now. “No. What happened?”
“You happened. You and Emma making out outside your hotel room last night.”
Ice spreads through my veins. “What?”
Emma straightens in her seat, taking notice of my tone, and gives me a questioning look. I motion her over, jiggling my mouse to wake up the computer, and open a new tab, typing in the first thing I can think of.
Connor Bishop kissing
She looks in alarm at me, then clasps her hand over her mouth as the search page loads, displaying images of the two of us outside my doorway last night, our profiles clearly visible as we lock lips. There’s no mistaking it’s her in that red dress, especially since it’s so similar to her other one from the benefit.
Fuck. Just what we need.
“Are you looking at it?” Angelina asks in my ear.
“Yes.” What else can I say? It’s not like I can deny it. There’s photographic evidence right there for anyone to see.
“I’m not going to lecture you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. But we have to respond soon. How do you want me to spin it?”
I glance at Emma, her face crestfallen.
“Let me call you back. Ten minutes tops.”
I hang up, reaching out to pull her in my lap. No use staying away from her now if the cat’s out of the bag. “We’ll figure this out.”
She inhales shakily. “This is exactly what you didn’t want. I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault. I was the one who kissed you. I should’ve been thinking more clearly.”
“Who do you think it was?”
I shrug, unsure how we would even go about finding something like that out. Maybe the hotel has security footage I could view? “Another guest, probably. It’s a public floor. Anyone can be there.”
“I heard a door close last night. Right after we kissed. But I don’t know which one.”
I let out a long breath, wrapping my arm tighter around her midsection. “Let’s see what the damage is.”
I click on the first search result, an article from some gossip rag popping up.
“Oh my God, that’s Tiffany,” Emma exclaims, pointing at the screen.
“What?” Who’s Tiffany?
“The woman who did your interview last week. I recognize her name from the business card she gave me. Is she stalking you or something?”
Great. The paparazzi are on the hunt.
I scroll down a little, the title catching me off guard.Connor Bishop’s Newest Flame—Who She Is and Her Ties to the Business World.