“Reform?” the moronic little man interrupted. “You’re reforming?” His laugh was sharp and bitter.
Flynn nodded, smiling at the man as though he were in on the joke. “It’s been brought to my attention recently that it’s time I grew up.”
Abby sucked in a breath. She felt Jena and Matt still beside her.
“You’re telling me there will be no more partying?” The producer was disdainful. “No more paternity suits. No more sex tapes. No more drunk driving or speeding. No more trashing hotel rooms. You’re a new man? The injury was a sort of epiphany for you and now you’re a born-again nice guy?”
Flynn’s face went blank. “No. This is what I’m saying: I’m twenty-nine, and it’s time to grow up. Time to take responsibility for my actions. I can’t change the past, but from here on in I’m going to try to live a considerate life. I’m reforming. I’m going straight. No more bad boy of British football. Now there’s just going to be Flynn Boyle. Nothing more.”
He stood from the stool, buttoned his jacket and tugged at his cuffs. “We done?” he asked, but was walking away from the camera crew before anyone could answer. As he reached the camera guy, he smiled into the lens. “For the record, there was only one sex tape, and it was a piece of art.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “This is him turning over a new leaf?” she asked Matt.
Matt chuckled. “Aye, this might be as good as it gets. So don’t go expecting great things.”
“I wonder if that tape is on the net?” Jena said.
Matt cocked an eyebrow at her.
“What?” Jena demanded.
Matt just shook his head at his wife.
They waited as Flynn limped over the uneven ground towards them. He was breathtakingly handsome in his suit. Abby had seen a meme on Facebook once where a photo of a guy in a suit was accompanied by the words “suits are to women what lingerie is to men.” The sentiment was spot on. She licked her lips as Flynn came to a stop in front of their little group.
“How’d I do?” His grin was cheeky.
“I thought you did an excellent job,” Lawrence said. “You might have been a bit hasty in your dismissal of a career in television.”
Flynn looked appalled. “That’s as long as I could control myself. I’d only be of use if the show that hired me lasted fifteen minutes tops.”
“What’s sex tape?” Katy piped up. “Is it like Sellotape? Is it good for art? Do we need some? I like making art.”
Abby felt her cheeks flush as everyone else smothered their smiles.
“It’s not for art, it’s—” Flynn started.
Abby jumped right in, shouting over him. “It’s a different kind of tape. Nothing little kids can use.”
Flynn gave her a wry look. “I was going to say it was a sport thing. Not an art thing.”
Matt turned his laughter into a cough.
“Okay.” Katy had already moved on to the next topic in her little head. “Don’t forget my bedtime story, Flynn. You can’t hide anymore. You promised you’d do it today.”
“I know.” Flynn let out a sigh. “I told you I’d be there, kid. Take a chill pill. I’ll bring the reading material. You do the sleep part.”
Abby heard an alarm go off inside her head. “What reading material?”
“Don’t worry,” Flynn said, making her worry. “I loaned my latest copy of Playboy to Matt here. I’ll have to bring something else to read.”
“Your reading material had better be age appropriate.”
“Yes, milady.” He affected a bow.
“My sister-in-law is Lady Montgomery-Clark. I’m just plain Abby.”
Flynn’s smile was wicked. “There’s nothing plain about you, Abby.”