Page 67 of Bang

"Sure," he said. "You've seen them, right?"

"Chicks in bikinis?"

"No," he said, looking surprisingly sincere. "Chicks in bikinisincalendars. You know, something for guys to hang by their tool box. C'mon, you know what I mean."

I did know.I'd worked plenty of construction, and I'd seen my share of calendars, but very few of them were from recent years.

I said, "Isn't that a bit old-fashioned?"

At the conference table, Chase gave an easy shrug. "Call it retro."

Now here's the thing with Chase. Half of his ideas were batshit crazy. But the other half – well, they made us a shit-ton of money. The challenge was figuring out which idea fell into which category.

I said, "So you were auditioning her for a spot in the calendar?"

"Her?" he said. "You mean Cami the nanny?"

As he said it, an image of Cami in a bikini popped into my head. Her bikini was red, and her body was tight and sweet. She looked so good, I felt myself swallow.

Fuck.

Through gritted teeth, I said, "I meant the blonde."

"Oh, her?" Chase said in mock innocence. "She wasn't auditioning."

Yeah, right."So, whatwasshe doing?" I said. "It had to besomething, unless she wears a bikini everywhere."

"She's a photographer," Chase said. "And a model on the side. She showed up like that to illustrate the look she'd be going for."

"In the calendar."

"Exactly." He leaned back in his seat. "But now that you mention it, maybe Camishouldaudition."

I recalled mentioning no such thing. "For the calendar? You're joking, right?"

With a smirk, he said, "I don't know. Am I?"

If I hadmyway, there'd be no calendar. But the truth was, Chase had the final say when it came to marketing and publicity. It was the deal we'd struck, back in the beginning, and I had to give Chase credit. He'd worked more than his share of miracles on the promo front.

His biggest miracle was that cable show,Blast.When he'd first suggested it, I'd thought he was out of his mind.

If I'd had the veto power, I would've vetoed the idea on the spot.

But I hadn't, and Chase had managed to sell his brainchild to the Home Network, pitching it as a sexy remodeling show starring three hot, single brothers who didn't always get along.

Hot –hisword, not mine.

At the time, I'd figured the show would last one season at best. That was four years ago. Since then, its popularity had only grown, along with the sales of Blast tools.

The show was free advertising on steroids, which meant that I'd been willing to sacrifice some of my privacy to keep it going.

But Cami's privacy – I wouldn't sacrificethatfor anything.

It was for Willow's sake –andher safety. Or at least, that was my working theory on why I'd never let it happen.

As far as any other theories, they were best ignored.

I told Chase, "Let's get one thing straight. Cami – she's off limits."