Lindsay Evans - On-Air Passion

“They can trust us.” Ahmed’s voice was firm. “Your guys can take some pictures of us before the date, and Elle can take a couple of selfies during, if she feels like it, but no one is going to follow us around like we’re on a damn reality show.”

“Well.” The lawyer spoke up for the first time. “If you insist on some media documentation, you can have a mini press conference at the beginning of the evening and tell the audience on camera what the plans are for the date. Then you can take a few photos throughout the night, as Mr. Clark recommended.”

“Oh, like prom!” Shaye chimed in. Elle almost kicked her.

“Exactly.” Clive flashed even more teeth.

The lawyer looked pained.

When he didn’t say anything else, Clive went on. “After the date, you come back to the station for a follow-up on-air appearance to talk about the date, how the service went—the goal for this, after all, is to advertise your business, Elle—and how you would change or tailor it to other clients.” Clive paused. “A potential AhmElle relationship attached to your business and this station would bring us all to the winner’s circle.”

“AhmElle?” Elle frowned at Clive.

“You know, like Brangelina or TomKat,” he said with another flash of teeth. “A lot of celebrity couples have names like that.”

Jesus...

“That’s a great idea,” Shaye said, her eagerness on full display. She practically wiggled in her chair, attracting the now wide-eyed attention of the lawyer.

Elle’s hand twitched with the urge to throw her purse at her best friend, to hell with the delicate lavender leather of the bag. This could all go wrong so easily. For some reason, Ahmed got off on tormenting her, and while she was never one to take any kind of abuse lying down, even when she’d been an orphan growing up in the system, she hated that she had to constantly be on her guard against him. Her skin prickled with uncomfortable heat, and her teeth were on their way to being ground down to a fine powder. He just set her completely on edge.

Damn Shaye for asking her to do this.

Elle tightened her hands on top of her bag. “How long is this farce of a date supposed to last?”

“As long as you two can stand each other, is my recommendation,” the lawyer said the same time as Clive offered his own. “We don’t have to go as far as filming your walk of shame the next morning.” He flashed a smile as he spoke, but Elle didn’t get the impression he was joking.

“I told you we don’t want anything filmed,” she said and thought she caught a look of surprise on Ahmed’s face. “Let’s just do the bare minimum of what you need to get this thing off the ground.”

She prompted Shaye with a look, and her friend jumped in with her part of the plan, whipping out her iPhone and opening the app with one of her endless lists with the brisk tap of a finger.

“I’ll put together one of our best packages for you both—I won’t tell you what it is and spoil the surprise, Elle, and that way you can really talk about it on the radio from the perspective of someone being wined and dined and whisked away on a special romantic night.”

Across the room, Ahmed shifted his position in the dark leather chair in a way that immediately drew Elle’s eyes to the weight between his legs. She quickly looked away, feeling unbalanced.

“We can’t do it at night,” she said with a pulse of desperation beating in her throat.

“What was that?” Ahmed looked at her, amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

Shaye giggled then moved to Clive’s desk, her iPhone screen held out for him to see what else she had planned.

For God’s sake... “Not like that!” Elle gritted her teeth and fought in vain against the tide of heat rising in her face. “What I mean is I don’t want to do anything at night. The date. An afternoon outing should be fine.”

Ahmed had the nerve to actually laugh at her, white teeth flashing, the corners of his mouth tucked up. “Why? Do you think you won’t be able to resist me if we go out together at night?”

Elle rolled her eyes. “Resisting you won’t be a problem,” she lied. “But I’d rather not waste any of my weekend nights doing this. I’m sure you feel the same way.”

“I doubt you have any idea what I’m feeling, princess.” And something unnamed moved across his face, not annoyance exactly but something from the same family.

“I told you not to call me that.” The words flew from between her teeth, sharp and cutting, catching even her off guard. Immediately, she regretted her tone.

The hum of conversation in the room between Shaye and Clive stopped. Even the bodyguard’s attention flew toward Elle in a snap of his pale brown gaze. But she refused to backtrack.

Ahmed’s gaze was as inscrutable as his cousin’s. But where his cousin seemed only vaguely curious, Ahmed watched her with a laser-like focus that made her want to squirm in her chair. But she kept absolutely still and met him stare for stare.

He leaned forward in his chair, arms braced against his thighs, a frown between his expressive eyes. “Listen, can we talk privately for a few minutes?”

“No.” Elle didn’t want to talk with him at all. The thought of being closer to him and in a private space filled her with an anxiety she didn’t want to name. “I have nothing to say to you that you can’t address right here and now.”

If she thought the silence in the room had been disturbing before, it was just about deafening now. Shaye and everyone else in the room stared openly at them. At Elle.

A muscle worked in Ahmed’s jaw and he made an audible sound of frustration. “Do you have a problem with me?”

“No, I don’t. But you seem to have a problem with me.” Unease rippled across Elle’s shoulders, tightening her muscles painfully. Were any of the potential gains even worth this hassle? “We probably shouldn’t do this,” she said, fully expecting him to agree with her.

But he shook his head. “We already agreed, so we might as well do this. I don’t go back on my word.”

“But I do?”

His look loudly said what his mouth did not.

She jumped to her feet. “You don’t get to imply—”

But Clive stood up, too. “I think we should all calm down and keep things in perspective.” He turned to Elle, but she backed away from him, keeping her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes on Ahmed. “I’m sure Ahmed didn’t mean to insult you. He just doesn’t get to mingle with polite company very often. Right?” His pointed look in Ahmed’s direction only yielded a shrug and setting back of broad shoulders against the leather chair. “Let’s do this and get it over with. This promo is a win-win for everybody. We just have to see it through.”

“I agree.” Shaye tucked away her phone. “Everything will be great. Just smile a little for the camera, look like you don’t want to kill each other and we’ll all be better off at the end of this thing.”

It was like she and Clive had conspired to be the Ahmed and Elle—aka Team Train Wreck—cheerleaders. This wasn’t going to work the way either of them planned, Elle could feel it.

Shaye cleared her throat. “I think we’re done here. Great decisions, everyone.” She took a page from Clive’s book and clapped her hands with a sharp note of finality, of a decision made. “I’ll put the date together and we’ll go from there.” Shaye moved closer, lowering her voice. “Are you okay, Elle?” Everything about her body language pleaded with Elle to finish what they’d started with Ahmed and the radio spot.

“Fine.” She gave her friend a look that clearly said she wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot. Then she pasted a neutral expression on her face. “So, by Friday we’ll have this all sorted out?”