Beware of Boys (4 page)

Liam cleared his throat. “Or perhaps, it's because of your showmanship—I mean sportsmanship, Lex,” he suggested, referring to the trash talk Lex was known for inside of and outside the ring. “Her knowing who's behind the project could also be the reason. We did find out days ago, remember?” Liam threw in, nodding at Mr. Day and Charly.

Loud laughter blared through the intercom, and Mr. Day and his Suits in Boots joined in. Charly beamed, enjoying all the fuss over her and admiring Liam's courage. His comment proved that he wasn't intimidated by Lex's reputation of being the youngest one-round-TKO middleweight boxer.

“Peace. Peace. I gotcha, Liam,” Lex said. “Protecting your territory, huh? I don't blame you. You s'posed to do that.”

“Either that or he's marking it, nah'mean?” Faizon chimed in.

Charly's heart stopped. She didn't appreciate being objectified. She was a person—her own—not a thing, and especially not someone's territory. “All right, that's enough, guys.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep lightheartedness from her voice. “I know you all may be four of the hottest dudes to grace the earth,” she said and averted her eyes to Liam, making sure he knew he was included. “But, hot or not, let me tell you none of you are
that
fantastic. Not enough to treat me less than my worth. Understand?” She scanned the room, spreading her glare around, then swallowed another sneeze, which made her body quake. All heads nodded, including those of Mr. Day and his assistants, who'd even chuckled beneath their breath. Charly heard a deep “yes, ma'am” come over the intercom, and knew it was Lex. “Understand?” she repeated, walking closer to the speakerphone. “I didn't hear the other apologies? Did you two hear me?” she questioned.

A warm chuckle preceded Faizon's half-cocked apology. “See, mama, this is why you got chose. Correction, this is why I knew you could collab with our project,” Faizon began. “You're what we'd call a soldier in the streets—you down for yours, and take absolutely no mess, Charly. Straight up and down, mama, you're strong, beautiful, and a survivor. I researched you. I know who you are and what you bringing to the table. You're the perfect fit.”

Charly crossed her arms and tapped the toe of her shoe against the carpeted floor. Faizon may've said something nice, but he was skirting her demand. “Apology, Faizon,” she reminded.

Faizon laughed. “A'ight. A'ight. You got me, mama. I sincerely apologize. That's my word.”

Charly cleared her throat. “Okay, that's two. I have the apologies of the athlete, the actor, and I'm sure my co-host will apologize. So what about yours, Mr. Music Industry?” Charly said, using his profession because she didn't know his name. Dead air filled the room.

“You know I'd never disrespect you, love,” Liam said loudly, walking over to Charly. He planted a kiss on her cheek. He moved her long, curly hair from her face, then leaned in. “Not on purpose. Please accept my apology,” he whispered in her ear.

Mr. Day broke up Charly's moment with Liam, thrusting manila folders at them. “Time to work,” he said. “Liam, the top one's yours. It has a list of structure requests. Charly, the other is for you.” He turned his attention back to the intercom. “All right, fellas, we thank you for the request, but we have to get going to get straight to work on our end. So unless there's anything else, we need to get started.”

A few “nos” and “I'm goods” were heard before everyone bid their individual good-byes, and Charly promised them she'd be in touch before the lines disconnected.

Charly opened the folder Mr. Day had given her, and glanced at the few lines. She zeroed in on it, and the only thing she took in was addresses. “Where are the plans? The list of needs? What I saw earlier? This is just a sheet of paper, and it looks like a schedule,” she said.

Mr. Day stepped closer, then reached out and tapped the sheet. “Three pieces of paper, Charly. But, as you can see, there are no plans, no mandatory requests. Not for you.” He grabbed the folder, removed the first sheet, and ran the tip of his finger over the other. “Look here,” he said, handing the folder back to her. “This is your itinerary. You and the guys will come up with your own plans for the center. They started with the landscaping and clubhouse or outside library or whatever it is they're taking charge on. They want you to take the lead on the project design for the girls' retreat . . . give some suggestions and make it pop. Believe me, they need it. They can't see past pink, purple—colors they think girls like—and their respective professions.”

Liam took the folder from Charly before she could look at, showing himself to be more jealous than she had expected. “Itinerary? We're talking itinerary like plane and hotel arrangements?” He held up the folder as if he were farsighted. He shook his head no. “Not a good look, Mr. Day. Charly can't travel to meet them by herself. I have to go with her.” He adjusted the printed itinerary.

Charly snatched the folder from Liam. First, he'd objectified her. Now he was acting like her father or guardian? “Calm it down, Liam. Insecurity isn't a good look for you,” she said, referring to his obvious jealousy. “Besides, I've traveled for other shows to get a feel for them, for what they needed.”

Liam crossed his arms and audibly huffed. “That's the problem, love. Seems they want to get a feel of something too. Especially that Lex character. I don't know what you did or when, but you must've really impressed him.”

Charly elbowed him in the gut. “Watch your mouth.”

Mr. Day gave them a knowing look and laughed. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two are really in a relationship, instead of just pretending to be in one for the cameras and television ratings.” He eyed Liam. “But that's not the case. Right, Liam?” His question was more of a suggestion. “Liam, you'll be there in a few days to begin, but, Charly,” he said, turning his attention to her, “you're leaving for Vegas tomorrow. That's not only where the project is, it's also where Lex's new training camp is, and right now he's training for his upcoming Showtime special, which will be taped in one of the casinos. So consider Lex the middle ground on this. The others have to meet there because Lex can't take a full day off due to the training. And let me warn you, you'll have to use your time wisely—get the plans together quickly. Faizon has an upcoming movie shoot in Hollywood, so he'll be in and out. And M
kel's recording and practicing for his upcoming tour in Los Angeles, so the schedule is tight.”

“M
kel?”
Charly said, her voice rising with panic and anger. “Did you just say M
kel?” She stood, and looked down at the paper again, this time really reading it. She shook her head. His name was right there in black and white. “Wait a minute. I thought they—he, M
kel, was working on a New York project with some other guys.”

“Yes. I said M
kel. Which is the reason we almost lost the project, but the contracts were already signed. I suggest you do whatever you can to fix it, because I heard he's looking for a loophole to get out. And as far as him working on a New York project . . . as I said before, Charly. Bad press. Bad press. The guys were meeting in New York to look at a couple of projects similar to theirs, not making a deal for a project in New York. The contracts had been signed and the ink was already dry for the Las Vegas retreat. Now you see what I mean about bad press,” he said, chastising again, then got back to business. “Also, your chaperone's information is on there too. She's worked with Lex's people before, and checks out great. She's also the grandmotherly type who'll take care of you, so there are no worries.” He shot Liam a look, like Liam was the one to approve Charly's affairs. “Okay?”

Liam nodded.

Charly shook her head. No, it wasn't okay. Nothing was cool with her and M
kel.