A-Hole to A-List (PR Girls & Instalove 1)

1

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Jenna

My high heels clicked along the marble floor as I walked down the long hallway of JT Strategy Group, further rattling my already jangling nerves. Clutching my notepad and pen, I forced my shoulders to lower, attempting to fake an air of confidence, even though I was slightly irritated.

Why would anyone suddenly push a meeting three hours earlier, leaving me with no time to prepare?

It was just another client, I kept telling myself. Just another meeting. I’d done this dozens of times before, even if this was the first time without my boss beside me. Jeremy had trained me to listen to my gut. Everything was going to be fine.

Being naturally shy was an obstacle to overcome, but nothing would ever get in the way of my chosen career. Humming for a few seconds to loosen my voice, rolling my shoulders back, I readied myself.

I exhaled swiftly, pasted on a bright smile and channeled my inner super professional energy. Striding into the glass and steel boardroom, I turned as the tall gentleman in a dark suit stood up and reached out his hand.

“Hello, Mr. Harper,” I said, setting my things in front of the seat beside him. “I’m Jenna Meyers.”

My eyes met his at the exact second his hand touched mine. An electric prickle danced between my shoulder blades, and my knees felt unsteady for a couple of heartbeats.

I was expecting a random stuffy business type. This was the most exquisitely handsome man I’d ever seen in person. My eyes raked along his sculpted jaw, his perfect full lips, his devilish, nearly black eyes. For a moment, I wanted to step through our handshake and into his arms.

Then I took in his stylish suit more critically. He was obviously obscenely wealthy, and wanted that point to come across clearly. He sat down in his chair, leaning back as if he owned the place.

Privileged. Cocky. His flashy watch likely equalled three years of my salary. He even had monogrammed gold cuff links that said, “AH”, which might as well have stood for “asshole”.

“Andrew, please. Lovely to meet you, Jenna. Thank you for taking on this rather unusual case.”

His voice was deep and gravelly. I would have guessed that he was in his mid-thirties, but his tone seemed a bit older. The kind of voice that made my thighs quiver and nipples tighten. My breath hitched, but I forced myself to sit in my chair, bashing my knee awkwardly on the table leg, but ignoring it.

“You say case as if I’m some sort of detective,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Whatever you call it, I’m in trouble,” he shrugged, his broad shoulders moving inside his perfectly cut suit jacket.

Be professional , I mentally screamed at myself. Stop looking at his lips.

“Jeremy doesn’t have a file on you yet, and just gave your account to me this morning, before you bumped up this meeting,” I said quickly, “So I’m afraid we’re going to have to start from scratch.”

“I actually didn’t tell Jeremy anything yet. But I know him from school, slightly, and hope that I can trust his firm.” Andrew nodded casually, lounging in his chair as if he were posing for a fashion catalog. “It’s a bit of an unusual situation,” he said. “Basically, the tech media thinks I’m an asshole, and I have to change that opinion in the next week so that I can get into the VIP area of an exclusive event.”

“That’s a pretty tight timeline,” I said, briskly taking a note on my yellow legal pad.

“See, it is a case,” he chuckled. “Don’t lawyers use those for their notes?”

“So do comedians,” I said. “Why does the media hate you?”

Andrew paused, staring out the window for a moment, giving me a moment to study his profile. It was interesting that he was rugged and beautiful at the same time. But right now he also looked slightly uncomfortable.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything,” I said. “And if it’s something seriously creepy, I can’t guarantee that I can fix it in a week.”

He looked at me sharply. “I punched a photographer who was harassing my little brother outside a gamer conference. Is that creepy?”

“Was it a fan or professional paparazzi?”

“Paparazzi.”

I shrugged. “We can probably spin that. Especially since you were protecting your brother – that always looks good. People love close-knit families.”

“You can’t mention my brother in anything publicly, though,” he said.

“Why not?”

He shook his head, running a hand through the slightly sun-kissed top of his thick brown hair. “Just don’t.”

I sighed loudly, taking another note. “Okay, why do you need to get into the VIP area of this event?”