Who Wants To Marry a Heartthrob?. Stephanie Doyle
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Название: Who Wants To Marry a Heartthrob?

Автор: Stephanie Doyle

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781474026185

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ single.”

      “Oh, no,” she protested. “No way. Not me.”

      “Bridge, I’m desperate. You heard Dan. He said no funny.”

      “That was Don.”

      “Whatever. I need you.”

      “If you think I would go on a television show to get a husband…If you think I would go on a television show for any reason, you are out of your mind. You know how I hate the spotlight.”

      “But this is our future, Bridge!”

      Their future. Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She wasn’t sure exactly why. Possibly because she had a very real fear she was about to wet her pants. “I’m not going on TV.”

      “Fine. Don’t do this. Don’t make this sacrifice. Really, I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, hey, you’re happy just being my assistant, right? The idea of running an advertising company alongside me isn’t that important to you, is it?”

      Bridget stood firm in the face of his guilt-mixed-with-bribery tactic. He was deluding himself if he thought for a moment that she was going to fall for it. She was way too skilled with this tactic to even flinch.

      “Okay, I do know what I was thinking,” he said answering his own question. “I was thinking that you could, for the sake of Buzz’s desire to be a perfectionist, Dan’s—”

      “Don’s.”

      “—Don’s desire that absolutely nothing go wrong on this million-dollar ad campaign and, of course, my desire that this show put Breathe Better Mouthwash on every grocery and drugstore shelf in America, thus securing my position as New York’s most creative and most successful advertising force, sit in one of those chairs for one hour and look at Brock as if he makes your mouth water! That’s it. That is all that I am asking.” Richard inhaled deeply, then added, “It’s not like you’re going to make the first cut.”

      Why that statement, of all things, should sting, she couldn’t say. But she could feel her bottom lip puff out slightly in what she feared was a sulky pout. Bridget didn’t do the sulky pout well. Usually, she ended up looking as though her lower lip had been stung by a bee. “And why not?”

      “Look at you,” Richard said, pointing at her chest. “Now look at them.”

      Bridget scanned the room of women all working on poses that showed off their…posture…in the best possible light.

      “All right,” Bridget conceded. “I get your point. Maybe I don’t have the figure of Pamela Anderson, but that doesn’t mean that Brock might not see my inner beauty.”

      “Okay,” Richard said, using his hands on her shoulders to spin her and point her in the direction of Brock. “Now, look at him.”

      Brock currently was trying to check out his reflection in one of the elegant silver pitchers sitting on one of the marble-top tables that lined the foyer of the house. Bridget couldn’t imagine that the distorted image satisfied his vanity.

      “Hey, do I have something in my teeth?” Brock asked one of the cameramen.

      Richard turned Bridget back around to face him. “Please, Bridge. I know you hate the spotlight. But you won’t even know the cameras are there. These guys are professionals. You’ll sit in one of the chairs, balancing out the shot for Buzz, maybe say hello and goodbye to Brock. He’ll pick eight girls, none of whom will be you, and bang! You’re back to being my assistant.”

      “Oh, joy!” she exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. “You mean after being rejected and humiliated on network television, I get to go back to being your assistant.”

      “It’s not network, sweetheart, it’s cable.”

      She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

      “Please,” he cajoled, and she could hear him struggling to muster actual sincerity. She hated when he did that. It always weakened her.

      “You’re my best friend. You’re going to be my future business partner,” he added. “And friends and partners are supposed to be there for each other, aren’t they?”

      “What a load of crap,” she groaned. Internally though, she felt herself caving.

      “No, really, it’s true. I read it in a magazine.”

      “Richard,” she pleaded, giving it one last shot. “Don’t make me do this.”

      Damn, he thought. He was beginning to buckle. He hadn’t lied when he’d said she was his best friend. His only friend, if truth were told. He’d spent so much of his energy focused on this one goal of getting to the top that he hadn’t left a lot of room in his life for family, lovers or even friends. He was pretty sure that Bridget only hung around because of his promise to promote her. Still, she stayed with him and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. But he couldn’t blow this opportunity, either. He was so close to having everything.

      Which meant it was time to bring out the trump card.

      “I didn’t want to have to do this, Bridge…”

      Her eyes narrowed as she tried to read his thoughts. “Oh, no, you wouldn’t…”

      “Did I mention that I’m desperate?”

      “You are a cad,” she accused him, sensing the type of blackmail he was about to inflict upon her.

      “Did I or did I not attend your sister’s wedding with you?”

      “Yes,” she muttered through gritted teeth knowing where the rest of this conversation was going.

      “Did I or did I not pretend to be your loving boyfriend just to get your parents off your back about marriage?”

      “Yes,” she mumbled.

      “And did I or did I not dance with your aunt Edna?”

      “Hey,” Bridget countered. “Nobody said you had to dance with Aunt Edna.”

      “But I did it anyway. Danced with her and told her how much I was in love with you. How you were the woman of my dreams and that someday I would win you over and convince you to be my wife. And how many times has your mother tried to fix you up with a blind date since then?”

      “None.”

      “None. One hour. In one of those nice, white, over-stuffed chairs. ‘Hello, Brock. Goodbye, Brock.’ That’s all I’m asking.”

      Bridget closed her eyes in defeat.

      “And maybe if you could summon up a tear or two when he rejects you,” Richard added, but quickly shut his mouth when she glared at him.

      Her shoulders slumped and she sighed in resignation. It was no use. There was no way she could refuse him. Not after what he had done for her. When she’d gotten the invitation to her sister’s wedding with the ‘‘and guest’’ printed on the envelope, she’d almost considered not even СКАЧАТЬ