Waxing His Board (Filthy Dirty Summer)

“How would you like to be the new female face of Spunk Wax?”

“I would love it!” In my excitement, I completely missed how specific his wording was.

“Great, any chance you could come back into the office to finalize everything?” he asked. “With you competing so close to home in the US Open, we want to get the ball rolling on the campaign right away.”

My dad had gone back into the office, but I didn’t want to miss this opportunity just because he wasn’t available. “Will there be paperwork for me to sign?”

“Yes, but if your dad can’t make it, I’ll pencil in a clause that gives you twenty-four hours to back out so he has the chance to look over the contract, too,” Van offered. “We’re looking forward to a long relationship with you, Chloe. The last thing we want to do is mess that up by screwing you over.”

Considering how blunt and genuine Granny was, I believed him. “I can be there as quickly as traffic will allow.”

“Then I’ll see you in an hour or two.”

I fired off a quick text to my dad to let him know what was happening and then sent another to Delta to tell her that I got the deal. Then I raced like heck out the door.

LA traffic was no joke, and it took me every bit of the next hour and a half to get to the Spunk Wax offices. When I arrived, the girl in the reception area stood to greet me. “They’re waiting for you in Van’s office. You can go right in.”

“Thanks.”

Even though Van had told me that I had the deal, I was almost as nervous walking down the hallway as I’d been when I surfed in my first pro event. I took a deep breath before I walked through the open doorway to Van’s office and came to a stumbling stop when I spotted the man sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

He flashed me a grin over his shoulder as Van said, “Come on in, Chloe.”

The last time I’d seen him, Wilder had been hot as heck in his board shorts and T-shirt. He was no less attractive wearing chinos and a flannel with the sleeves rolled up, his legs stretched out with his ankles crossed, and a pair of navy Converse on his feet. His idea of dressing up was similar to mine, and we looked like a matched pair as I crossed the room to sit next to him.

“What’s he doing here?” I tore my gaze away from Wilder to look at Van. “When you called, you said you were going with me for the face of your campaign.”

“Actually, I said I wanted you to be the female face for the company.” Van jerked his chin toward Wilder. “You’ll be working with him on the campaign.”

“You want me to work with Wilder?” I echoed softly, my eyes widening. “You didn’t mention that possibility when we met earlier today.”

“There were some budget concerns we had to work through to make it work, and Wilder was more flexible than we expected.” Van’s head tilted to the side. “I assume this isn’t a problem for you since the terms of the deal are exactly as we previously discussed with the exception of working with Wilder.”

“Um, no. Of course not. I’m beyond stoked to work with you.” It wasn’t as though there was another answer I could give. I didn’t want to blow my first deal and earn myself a reputation for being difficult to work with. “But what exactly do you mean when you say we’ll be working together?”

Wilder shifted in his seat, leaning toward me to answer my question. “We’re doing it all side by side. Every single thing. Events, media spots, and everything else Van and his team cooks up, I’ll be with you.”

“Oh.”

His lips curved into a pleased grin as mine formed a perfect circle of shock.

“Are you less busy now? We should have that dinner we talked about tonight.”

“Um.” I felt weird having this conversation in front of Van, and my gaze darted toward him.

His eyes held an odd twinkle to them as he pushed back from his desk to stand. “I’ll give you two some privacy to discuss the finer details. You can take the paperwork home with you and email a signed copy back to me tomorrow.”

There was a nervous lump in my throat—one that had everything to do with the man sitting next to me—that I had to swallow down before I could speak. “That sounds perfect, thank you.”

He slid the contract toward me, and my fingers trembled as I picked it up. Then he gave Wilder a chin lift before striding out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

I stared down at the paperwork in a futile attempt to pull myself together, but Wilder wasn’t having it. He gripped the arm of my chair and turned it to face him. Then he leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs, his pale-green orbs locked on my face.