"Became the biggest disaster of your life."
"Not really. I've been dating other people and—"
She growled in frustration. "Are you kidding me? Someone has to have pictures of you out with other women. Now you've got a pregnant girlfriend and you're a cheater—"
"I'm neither of those things. Listen, Nattie, calm down. Everything is going to be fine."
"We need to get you a distraction. Some kind of decoy in order to—"
"I'm fine. But we do need to talk. I talked to—"
No. Not that. She couldn’t talk about that.
"Later. I've got to figure out what we're going to do first."
"Natalie—"
She turned the phone off and shoved it in her purse before shuffling into the wide elevator of her office building. They were a matchmaking company. There had to be something they could do for someone like Franco—give him a fake girlfriend who nursed baby chickens or something. Made him look like the good guy he was.
It was possible.
Or, at least, there might have been before the baby debacle.
Now, getting anywhere near Franco would put the entire company at risk. They’d look bad to clients, and if word got out, Brooks would blame her. No, he’d never agree to something like that. And as much as Garret liked her, he was too practical to sign on to it either.
But then, wasn’t there a way for her to help Franco without the Adams brothers finding out? Some secret coding system?
She laid her head on her desk. The brothers looked at every profile personally. There was no way she’d be able to enter someone into the system without being called to the carpet for it.
She glanced at Brooks' door, then bit her bottom lip. How much was she willing to sacrifice in order to help Franco?
She took a deep breath. She knew what he'd bargain—what he had bargained—to keep her safe and out of trouble. She owed him, whether either of them admitted it or not, and if this was her time to cash in...
She glanced at the wooden door again.
How many girls had marched through those doors?
How many times had he insulted her?
It didn't matter.
This wasn't about him. Hell, it wasn't about her, either.
This was for Franco, and if this could help him, she had to try.
No matter what the cost.
So, without another thought, she marched through the door to Brooks' office and slammed it behind her.
"You said you wanted a bargain," she said. He'd been on the phone, but she didn't care. She had to get this out before she lost her nerve.
He mumbled something about having to go, then clicked the phone off and stared up at her with those icy, blue-grey eyes of his. "I did."
She glanced at the corner of his desk and a picture of Franco stared up at her from a tabloid cover. If that wasn't a sign, she didn't know what was. "So, what do I get out of this bargain?"
"Me." He smiled, but she shook her head.
"No."