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handsome enough.”

She laughed. “I always said you should be the model. Not the

PR behind-the-scenes guy.”

“I don’t have to. I seem to appear in every LA rag as it is.”

“You do. Always on the arm of some starlet or macho man. It

makes me laugh. You get more free publicity than our clients get

for a fee.”

“I was thinking about Botox. Take a good look and tell me if

you think I can use it when you see me in the morning.”

“Shut up. You look so good I don’t think you need it yet. I

mean, men can get away with lines, not like women.”

Braxton appreciated Brianna’s opinion. “I have that red

carpet premiere the same night as the auction. I completely

forgot, and now I have to be at both.”

“They don’t start those auctions ‘til late. Don’t worry. You

always manage to get everything done, Brax.”

“I can’t believe how swamped we are at work. I swear the

difference from now and two years ago is amazing.”

“I know, right? You were thinking of hanging it up then. I

remember. I’m glad we stuck it out.”

Braxton put the sound back on as the program resumed. “I

won’t keep you. I know you’re probably sitting with the laptop

answering emails right now.”

“Hey! Are you spying on me?” She laughed. “Just a few. I’m

really beat.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wait until morning.”

“It’s my job. See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya.” Braxton hung up and smiled, snuggling into his bed

to enjoy the show until he felt drowsy and fell asleep.

Chapter 2

Friday morning, after a six am workout at an upscale spa with

Tyson Hopper, his personal trainer, Braxton showered and

adjusted his tie in the mirror in the locker room. He stared at his eyes, which some days looked green, other days gold. He ran his

fingers through his hair, never using gel on it and enjoying its

natural fullness, which covered his ears but wasn’t long enough

to brush his shoulders. He was tempted to allow it to grow long.

He had as a youth and it seemed the tide in LA was turning from

shaven heads back to full luxurious locks, thanks to a

supermodel named Mark Richfield.

Braxton had yet to meet the man face to face, though he had

seen his advertisements and billboards all over So-Cal. He had

dabbed Mark’s trademark cologne Dangereux onto his neck and wrists and sniffed it. The mix of spice and musk made his dick

move in his pants. He shot himself a dazzling grin and then left

the locker room, making sure his phone was charged, his suit

jacket folded over his arm, and his Bluetooth in his ear.

The workout leaving him energized and pumped for a good

day, he hopped into his gold Porsche and backed out of the

parking space to hit the road to downtown LA.

He made a call on his way. “Brianna?”

“Yes, dear,” she replied teasing.

“You already pick up the espressos?”

“I always do. Got you a yogurt and granola breakfast too,

since I figured you always come straight from the gym.”

“Love you.” Braxton slowed for a traffic signal as he drew

closer to the highway and his ‘fun’ commute to downtown from

the gym. It was hit and miss traffic-wise, mostly miss.

“I bet you say that to all the efficient wonderful assistance.”

“I do. Oh, speaking of that…”

“Yes. I placed an ad last night and do you believe my inbox is

already full of resumes?”

“Damn!” He entered the highway ramp and took a glance at

the road ahead of him. Heavy flowing cars but no one at a dead

stop, thank fuck. “You know what we’re looking for?”

“I expect someone with experience.”

“Yes, but I’ll take good potential, trainable. Sometimes the

ones who’ve worked in this business have big egos.”

“Imagine that.”

“Shut up. See ya in twenty, traffic’s not too bad.”

“See ya.”

He disconnected his call, surprised. The internet had one heck

of a networking system. It alerted job hunters instantly when

new leads were posted, and Braxton was always impressed with

Brianna’s efficiency. But then again, hiring a body to help her

was a top priority for the woman.

A half hour later, he parked in his reserved spot, grabbed his

jacket and put it on as he headed to the elevator. A young lady

who had entered the elevator before him noticed him hustling to

catch it and held back the door for him.

“Thanks.” He hopped on and pushed the button for the tenth

floor.

“My pleasure.” She gave him a flirtatious smile and

immediately checked his left hand…presumably for a wedding

ring. Women did that. Men never did. It made him chuckle.

“Which office do you work for?” she made small talk.

“My own. I work in PR.” He adjusted his tie as they

ascended.

“Anyone ever tell you you have beautiful eyes?”

Yes. “Thank you.” He smiled and thought for a moment about

asking her out, but with the weekend he had planned, he knew it

would be impossible, then she would get upset he didn’t call,

blah, blah…same old story.

She gave him a last smile, as if hoping he would ask, right

before she left the elevator on the eighth floor. “Well, see you

around.”

“See ya.” He waved at her and the door closed.

Once alone in the elevator, Braxton’s smile fell. He couldn’t

have a relationship if he wanted to. He simply had no time.

He entered his office to see Brianna already busy on the

phone, handing him his coffee cup and yogurt as he passed. He

threw her a kiss and sipped the espresso, having a feeling she

warmed it up for him, since it was hot. He set it down next to his

breakfast, removed his jacket and dove into his work, eating the

granola yogurt and sipping coffee between.

By noon Brianna tapped at his door.

Braxton was in the middle of emailing catering services for

cast parties when he glanced up. “What’s up, babe?”

“I’ve narrowed down the candidates for the job. One is

already scheduled to come in for an interview.” She set a stack of

paper on the desk.

He glanced at it. “How much can we afford to pay them?”

“I left it open. You need to call our accountant…um…now?”

“Okay.” He leafed through the stack. “Over a dozen. Wow.”

“Those are the ones I printed. There were thirty in the first

hour.”

“Holy crap. At least we can be picky.” He read the names and

brief

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