Free The Closer You Get by Kristi Gold Page A

exited the limo and entered a patio that
reportedly led to the private quarters reserved for the group. Brett lowered his
head as they strode through the crowded dining room. Most of the people didn’t
bother to look up from their food long enough to notice the group, but Cammie
noticed several who obviously recognized him—or at least that he was somebody —indicated by finger-pointing and subtle
whispers.
    Nevertheless, they managed to sneak by with very little
attention as they entered the secluded dining room. The man that approached them
first was as wide as he was tall, an unlit cigar butt protruding from the corner
of his mouth. “Brett, my boy, how are you doing?”
    “Can’t complain, Tim,” Brett said as he shook the man’s offered
hand.
    Brett gestured toward Cammie. “This is Cammie, Bud’s temporary
replacement. Cammie, this is my manager, Tim Braker.”
    “Good to know you, Cammie.” His eyes crinkled at the corners
when he smiled as he took her hand and patted it. “My, my. Brett’s description
of you was pretty accurate, but it certainly didn’t do you justice.”
    Cammie felt her face flush. “Thank you,” she murmured.
    “Let’s eat,” Brett said, tugging at his collar.
    Brett pulled out the chair next to his for Cammie, then
introduced her to Bull’s girlfriend, Bonnie, with a petite stature and short
brown hair, and Karen, Rusty’s wife, whose long auburn tresses nearly matched
her husband’s. They both seemed very personable and happy to meet her, at least
for the moment.
    The informal atmosphere and lively conversation was as
satisfying as the spicy fajitas and tart margaritas that came to the table in
endless quantities. Cammie settled for a soda and ate sparingly while the guys,
in typical male unmannerly fashion, dug in like it was their first meal in days
or their last on earth. After the food had been cleared, the men gathered in the
corner of the room to talk business, while Karen and Bonnie claimed the two
chairs opposite Cammie.
    “So, Cammie, have you been on Brett’s bus yet?” Karen
asked.
    Let the inquisition begin. “Yes, I have.”
    “You poor thing,” Bonnie said. “When anyone sees a woman within
a hundred yards, they think maid service has arrived.”
    “So far that hasn’t been a problem.” And it wouldn’t be if she
had any say in the matter.
    Bonnie folded her hands on the table. “When did you meet
Brett?”
    “Not long ago.”
    “Did you meet him at a concert?” Karen asked.
    She could see where this was heading, and she saw no reason to
go there. “Look, just to set the record straight, I’m Bud’s replacement driver.
The guys were worried that you might be concerned since I’m a woman. But rest
assured, my only intent is to provide a ride for Brett.” Surely she hadn’t just
said that. “I meant, I’m a professional driver. I can even drive with my foot in
my mouth.”
    The women exchanged a look, then fortunately laughed. If Cammie
could run out of the room without being too obvious, she would.
    “I guess I can understand the guys’ concerns,” Bonnie said. “If
I hadn’t met you, I might have had my reservations. But you don’t seem like the
predator type.”
    Cammie smiled with relief. “Thanks. I just couldn’t go on
pretending I’m one of Brett Taylor’s girlfriends, according to the plan.”
    “What a horrible thing to imagine,” Karen said. “But if you ask
me, Brett definitely appeared to be enjoying the make-believe. He couldn’t seem
to take his eyes off you during dinner.”
    She couldn’t exactly dispute Karen’s observations. She had
noticed a few glances now and then. “Brett was just trying to help out his
friends,” she said. “There’s nothing else to it.”
    “We’ll see,” Bonnie added. “We might trust our boys, but
Brett’s another story. Never underestimate his power over women.”
    Nor should anyone underestimate her self-control. “I can handle
him for a couple of months.”
    Karen