Olivia gave her agent a breezy smile. She wasn’t an actress for nothing. ‘Oh, sure,’ she said, and held up two crossed fingers. ‘We’re like that. Not a problem at all.’
Uh-huh.
‘HAVE YOU SEEN the newspapers?’
Ben held his cell phone away from his ear as Spencer’s voice boomed down the line. ‘The newspapers? No. I’ve been too busy trying to find proper accommodation for an actress’s toy poodle. And by toy poodle, I don’t mean toy. I mean a real-live dog she decided to bring with her to the hotel.’
‘We have an arrangement with a local kennel,’ Spencer said dismissively, and Ben gritted his teeth.
‘That might have been good to know for the past two hours.’ He drummed his fingers on the desk, forced his voice back to measured. ‘So what’s in the newspapers?’
‘You are.’
‘What?’ Though he knew the media had dubbed him a celebrity chef, he’d managed to keep a low profile ever since he’d opened his first restaurant. He didn’t want or need publicity; food spoke for itself. And he wasn’t exactly the world’s most charming people-person. He had no idea why he’d make the papers now.
‘You and a certain Harrington,’ Spencer elaborated, and for a second Ben still came up blank. ‘A certain... You mean Olivia?’ What other Harrington had he come into contact with, ever?
‘Olivia, yes,’ Spencer bit out. ‘So when were you going to enlighten me that you’re dating a Harrington?’
‘I’m what?’ Now Ben was the one booming. His PA, Rebecca, in the office adjoining his gave him a quick, curious glance. Ben sat back in his chair, drove one hand through his hair and let out a low breath.
‘I am not dating a Harrington. Any Harrington, and definitely not Olivia. Not,’ he continued with a definite edge to his voice, ‘that I need to answer to you if I was.’
‘So you are...’
‘No. I’m just reminding you that I’m not your damn employee, Spencer. I’m doing you a favour for two weeks, and my personal life is none of your concern.’
Spencer was silent for a moment. ‘Fair enough,’ he said at last, and he sounded grudging. ‘But the newspapers are saying you are dating a Harrington, and that affects the negotiations...’
‘Then the newspapers are wrong,’ Ben answered shortly. ‘What a surprise.’
‘That’s not what Olivia is saying,’ Spencer added, and Ben bolted upright, his hand clenched so tightly around his phone his knuckles ached.
‘What?’
‘She gave an interview this afternoon, which is breaking news on all the entertainment websites as we speak. I quote, “We’ve been seeing each other since The Chatsfield tried to take over The Harrington.” And the we in that, in case you’re wondering, is you and Olivia.’
Ben’s jaw went slack as his mind spun. So this was her revenge for his smack-down last night? So much for the heartfelt apology she’d given him that morning. Clearly she had more acting talent than he’d given her credit for.
Instead she decided to tell the worldwide media that they were dating?
What the hell was that about? Was she trying to embarrass or annoy him, or both?
Well, he was definitely annoyed. Infuriated, actually, and he took a deep breath to control the rush of anger he felt, justified as it was.
‘I have no idea why she would say that,’ he told Spencer. ‘I barely know the woman.’
‘Barely?’ Spencer repeated, sounding more than a little sceptical.
‘Yes, barely,’ Ben snapped. ‘And I don’t appreciate the inquisition. I met her when she stormed down here accusing me of putting her in a substandard room on purpose, because she was a Harrington.’
‘Did you?’
Ben rose from his chair at that, pacing the room to release some of the energy boiling inside him. ‘What do you think?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve told you before—I have zero interest in your deal with The Harrington. I couldn’t care less, Spencer, what the hell you do with your hotel. So no, I didn’t put some woman I didn’t even know in a small room as some kind of petty revenge. And that’s the last I’m going to say on it.’ He stopped, breathing hard, his hand clenching the phone so tightly his knuckles ached.
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