He’d been positive she would’ve laughed his publicist right out of town, and they’d be scrambling for another way to repair an image he’d been partly responsible for. Maybe he’d been right about Bridget all along, and she was no different than the other women who wanted to be with him for the attention. That was a damn shame. “You’re pacing.” Miss Gore’s voice grated on his every last damn nerve. Chad stopped and stared out the window overlooking a manicured park that split the teeming avenue. From the sectional couch, Miss Gore sighed. “You should be thrilled by this development.” The only thing that thrilled him was the fact he’d get to see Bridget again without having to seek her out. How fucked up was that? “I must say your place is by far nicer than Bridget’s. She has a thing for…color. Her walls are blue, red, and yellow.
