real Ashley George. A designer making a couture gown for her? Ludicrous. The real Ashley had grown up with dresses her mother had made.
Grace opened up her laptop. “If you haven’t dealt with your dress, I don’t even want to guess the status of you finding a date.”
Ashley’s lips twisted into a tight bunch. She’d been hoping the network would forget they’d made the request for her to find a date for the premiere party. “They’re still insisting on this?”
“Yes. The premiere is a network function to publicize your show. And don’t forget they still haven’t given you an answer on the new show you pitched to them. You do not want to be anything less than a woman who says yes.”
“They’re just fixated on this because of those stupid gossip website photos.”
“The image of you buying ice cream and a candy bar on a Saturday night did not help your image. And that affects the ratings.”
“That was three weeks ago and I had the world’s worst PMS. It has nothing to do with not having a boyfriend.” Although if she’d had a boyfriend, she could have sent him out for the ice cream. “I hate the fact that anyone cares about this.”
Grace began tapping away at her laptop. “And not just a little. You know it’s the most popular topic on the Manhattan Matchmaker message boards. Your fans want to see you happy. They want to know that the woman who finds true love for everyone else can find it for herself. And the last time I checked, Ash, you live on this kind of attention.”
Actually, Ashley didn’t live on that kind of attention. She existed on it. She made money because of it. After she’d watched her parents struggle for years, working tirelessly and never getting ahead, it was nice to know she’d broken that particular family tradition.
Ashley sucked in a deep breath. “You’re going to have to set me up with someone or call a male escort service. I have no prospects.”
“No way. Word will get out if I try to arrange something. I can just see it in the papers.” With a dramatic sweep of both hands, Grace made a nightmare materialize. “The Manhattan Matchmaker Can’t Find Her Own Match.”
“Hey. That’s not fair. You know I’m intentionally taking a break from men.”
“And my grandmother would say that you fall off the horse, you need to get right back on it.”
“Yeah, well, my saddle is out of commission. I haven’t even been on a real date since James broke up with me.”
Grace’s eyes flickered in a way that made Ashley squirm. “That’s not true. The Tower of London? You’ve been on a date with him.”
It felt as though Ashley’s heart had seized up in her chest. “No. That was not a date. It was a disaster.”
“He asked you out. That counts as a date.” Grace scooted forward in her seat, her eyes brimming with entirely too much excitement. “Just think. If you get him to come to the party, it’ll be that much harder for him to complain about your apartment.”
“What about ‘familiarity breeds contempt’?”
“Now you’re just making excuses. What’s his real name again? Marcus...” She glanced down at her computer and began typing.
“Chambers,” Ashley grumbled. How exactly was this going to work? Oh, wait. It wouldn’t. Marcus would say no, and that would make every hallway encounter excruciatingly miserable.
“Here he is.” Grace nodded as she looked at her laptop screen, her eyes scanning back and forth. “Chambers Gin...famous British family...divorce.” She looked up. “Divorce?”
“Yes. I told you that. Remember? He has a baby. Lila. I don’t really know much other than his wife came from a prestigious family, too, and whatever happened between the two of them, she took off six weeks after the baby was born.” Ashley rubbed her forehead. “It’s all online if you read enough.”
“I take it you’ve read it all.”
“Pretty much. What can I say? I was curious. A ridiculously hot guy moves in across the hall, a girl Googles him.”
“His wife leaves him and the baby six weeks after she’s born? Whatever broke them up had to have been bad.”
“Or it’d been brewing for a long time. The reason for the divorce was listed as ‘irretrievable breakdown.’ I guess that’s what they call irreconcilable differences in the UK.”
“Yeah, but a mother leaving her child?”
“I know. It’s awful.”
Grace returned her vision to the screen. “Financial markets... Cambridge University...”
“Will you just give this up? He’s never going to agree to go with me to that party, anyway.”
“Shush. I’m reading. Rowing team...yada yada yada. Oh. My. God.” She clamped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were as big as hubcaps when she looked up at Ashley.
She found it.
“He’s in a calendar. Britain’s most eligible bachelors.”
“Oh yeah. That. Sorta funny, isn’t it? I mean, Mr. November? I’d give him crap about it if I wasn’t trying to keep him calm.”
“So you’ve seen the pictures?”
She shrugged it off, pretending to busy herself with her pen and pad. “It’s not like I bought one of the calendars.” Of course she hadn’t. It was sold out.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this. We just hit the mother lode. This is perfect. You invite the hot British gin maker and I get to write the world’s most amazing press release. This might end up being the pinnacle of my career.”
“Oh please. It’s a calendar to raise money for a children’s hospital. They do it every year. I doubt it’s a big deal.”
“Uh, the picture of him with no shirt? I can guarantee people will care about that. A lot of people.”
Grace got up from her chair, set her computer on Ashley’s desk and flipped it around. They were both confronted with one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors and his splendid physique. “You told me he was handsome, but you really undersold it. Look at his abs. And those shoulders.”
Ashley shook her head, wishing she could erase the image of Marcus’s incredible torso, the one lovingly embossed on her brain. Is it stuffy in here? “You’re making a big deal out of nothing. That photo is probably airbrushed like crazy.” With the computer on her desk, it was impossible to avoid shirtless, sweaty Marcus, standing on shore next to the River Thames after a rowing race, smiling no less. “And I mean, he might look hot, but ignore that. He can be insufferable if he wants to be.”
“I could put up with a whole lot of insufferable for a guy with abs like that.” Grace returned to her seat, thankfully removing the influence of the pictures. “The network is going to be over the moon when I tell them you’re bringing one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors to the premiere party.”
“Hold
