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Just the Sexiest Man Alive

Page 33

   


Linda appeared at Taylor’s side. “You mean ‘sexy,’ don’t you?” she asked innocently, gesturing to the pictures. Then she couldn’t resist any longer—she burst into laughter.
As the other secretaries joined in, Taylor stood there, trying to hold back her smile. Finally, she gave in and laughed along with them.
Okay, fine. She probably deserved that.
DUE TO HER unexpected afternoon off from trial, Taylor had a few free minutes to return Valerie’s call. She answered the phone just as Taylor was taking a seat at her desk.
“Hey, it’s me,” Taylor said. “I got your message—what the hell—”
Apparently, Linda and the cohorts had stuck an extra copy of People magazine on her chair—just in case she had somehow missed the fifty plastered on her door.
“Something wrong?” Valerie asked, amused by this intro.
Taylor pulled the magazine out from under her. “Nothing—I just realized I was sitting on Jason Andrews’s face.”
“Yum. Call me back in an hour and let me know if it’s every bit as fantastic as I imagined.”
Taylor laughed. “My secretary left People magazine on my chair,” she explained.
“I just bought a copy this morning on my way to work,” Val said breathlessly. “You know this is the third time they’ve named him the Sexiest Man Alive? That’s more than anyone else.”
“You’re a music professor at an Ivy League university. How do you have time to keep up with all this stuff?”
“Are you kidding? We’re talking about Jason Andrews. I’ve seen all of his movies. Like six times.”
Taylor’s smile quickly changed into a frown. That stupid statistic.
She glared at the picture of Jason for being right. It was then that a second photograph in the lower right corner of the magazine cover caught her eye.
“Hey—I like the picture of Scott Casey,” she said appreciatively. Under the caption “Other Contenders” was a photo of the actor in his A Viking’s Quest costume.
“He’s so beautiful, isn’t he?” Valerie sighed wistfully. “I mean, I know you don’t usually say that to describe a man, but Scott Casey really is just the very definition of the word.”
“Do you think he’s almost too pretty?” Taylor examined the picture. She sighed, adopting a melodramatic air. “I suppose I could deal with it if I had to,” she said. She laughed at the very thought. As if.
“Speaking of dealing with things . . .” Valerie treaded lightly at first, then came right out with it. “Kate tells me you’ve been wasting your days away, hiding out in that office of yours.”
The comment instantly put Taylor on the defensive. “Doesn’t anybody understand that I’m on trial?”
“I don’t know who else you’re referring to, but Kate and I are your friends. We wouldn’t be doing our jobs during this posttraumatic period if we weren’t encouraging you to get on with your life.”
Taylor scoffed at this. “I’m not going through any ‘posttraumatic period.’ I promise you, I’ve moved on with my life.” And as she said the words, she realized just how true they were. She hadn’t thought once about Daniel since the day she had received his flowers. She’d been preoccupied with other things . . .
“And if it makes you feel better,” she continued, “I’m even going out tomorrow night. But don’t get too excited,” she added quickly. “It’s just a business”—she searched for the right word—“related event.”
Val sounded somewhat appeased by this. “Is there at least a man involved?”
Taylor considered how to answer this question. She was tempted to tell Val all about Jason. But she had decided it was better to do it in person, when she and Kate came to visit. She needed to exercise some spin control, particularly where Valerie was concerned. Taylor loved the girl to death, but keeping information on the down low was not one of her strong points.
“A man is sponsoring this event, yes.” Taylor figured at least that answer was true. Sort of.
“And by any chance is this a good-looking man?” Valerie asked hopefully.
Taylor glanced down at the picture of Jason on the cover of People. Oh, not really, she thought. Just the Sexiest Man Alive.
“I suppose some ‘people’ might say he’s attractive.” She giggled at her own joke.
Then immediately covered her mouth.
Oh god.
Valerie echoed this exact sentiment. “Holy shit.” She paused. “Did you just giggle?”
Taylor shook her head. “No,” she mumbled innocently from behind the palm of her hand. “Definitely not.”
“Because you never giggle,” Val continued. “That’s not the Taylor Donovan way.”
Taylor nodded resolutely. “That’s right. I don’t. I was just, um . . . coughing.”
Lame.
Valerie was highly suspicious. “I’m going to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on with you as soon as I get out there, you know.”
Taylor smiled. “Two weeks, Val. I promise—I’ll tell you everything.”
SCOTT CASEY GLANCED again at the copy of People that his now ex-publicist, Leslie, had just dropped off.
“Other Contenders.”
To say he was not pleased with this distinction would be an understatement.
It was the second time in less than two weeks that he had been promised the cover, only to see it go up in smoke on account of Jason f**king Andrews. It was enough to make a movie star—Hollywood’s It Guy, no less—want to fire his publicist.