“It was Shane’s idea. He says my friends are a bad influence on my career.”
Mellie, forget your stupid prom, okay? You’re going to be partying in Morocco while those losers listen to canned music in a smelly gymnasium. Seriously, where would you rather be?
Why were Shane and Gary intentionally isolating this girl?
“Hey, Nora, would you mind showing Tori some cool-down stretches for a few minutes? And maybe get her a glass of juice? I have to run downstairs.” She stood and turned for the door before remembering her fresh-out-of-bed appearance. She was too angry to waste time going upstairs to change. What she was about to do didn’t require anything more than the ability to deliver some very pointed words. She grabbed a loosely woven blue sweater that was draped over a chair. It fell to her thighs. She often wore it at night when she was watching television, because it was so big she could curl her legs up underneath it.
Her bed-head hair was hopeless, so she stuffed it under a Gallant Lake ball cap she kept on hand for late-night walks. Luckily she always kept lipstick by the front door, so she glammed up her look with a splash of matte pink. She flashed the girls a quick smile and was out the door before Nora could ask any of the questions clearly burning her lips.
Shane was alone at a table, which was good. His table was all the way to the front of the busy coffee shop, which was not good. She was going to have to march across the shop looking like a Gallant Lake vagrant. His head came up the minute she stepped out of the back hall and into the café. Hoo-boy, she’d forgotten how intense those blue eyes were. Something warmed deep in her belly, and she almost stumbled when she recognized it as desire. She was not supposed to be feeling desire for anyone, damn it. She narrowed her eyes, but that just made him smile.
By the time she got to his table, she was fuming and he was fighting laughter.
“That’s quite a look. Are you entering the witness protection program? Do you need a ride to the bus station?”
“I might need protection with you...” As soon as the words were out, she knew they were a mistake.
“I think it’s a little early in our relationship to be discussing protection, don’t you?”
“Ha ha.” She reached for an empty chair, and Shane leapt to his feet to hold it for her, not releasing it until she was seated. The looks of a bad boy with the manners of a gentleman. It was a heady combination, and her brows furrowed as she tried to remember why she was here. Oh, yeah—Tori.
He’d returned to his own chair, nodding to Cathy working behind the counter. She waved, already filling a mug for Mel. She brought it to the table with a plate of mini scones.
He sat back and waited. He was good at that—waiting for the other person to speak. She was tempted to see how long he’d hold out, but this was too important.
“Why are you isolating Tori from her family and friends?”
His brows shot upward and his mouth dropped open, then he scowled at her.
“Is that what she told you?”
“No, she didn’t tell...well, yes, she did in a way, but only in answer to my questions.”
He shook his head, looking at the ceiling before meeting her gaze. “Why do you care so much about this kid, Mellie?”
“Don’t call me that.” Her voice was sharper than she intended. She’d left Mellie behind when she’d walked away from the make-believe world Mellie existed in, and she didn’t need any reminders of that life. “Call me Mel. Or Melanie. And you haven’t answered my question.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration.
“Alright, fine. You want to know why? Because her so-called friends at home are little assholes. They put her out there on social media to make themselves look cool, and it makes Tori look like some kind of party animal. Golf is a conservative, wholesome sport, and those cling-ons are dragging her down.”
“But her family is there—why keep her away from them?”
“I’m not. I thought they’d be visiting every week, but... I don’t know. I think they have their hands full with their other kids and figure Tim and I will take care of her. And we are...”
He didn’t sound very sure of himself. Mel sat back, sipping her coffee and nibbling on a scone.
“It sounds like Tori’s friends acted like typical teenagers. They’re girls. They’re full of hormones and bad decisions. But they’re still her friends. You can’t isolate her just because they did some dumb things. Did you try talking to them?”
Shane’s eyes went wide. “Talk to her friends? I don’t know anything about teenage girls. What the hell would I say?”
“No females at all in your life? Sisters? Cousins? Nieces?”
“I’m an only child. The only women were my mom and my nana. Mom’s a proper Boston blue blood. Nana, God rest her soul, was a tough-talking saint of a woman. But girls? No. As a teenage boy, my only contact with teenage girls involved convincing them to let me get past second base.”
Mel shook her head. Men.
“So how on earth did you end up with a teenage girl as a client?”
“Her parents saw how we handled a situation for a rookie basketball player who got in hot water in Cleveland, and they reached out to us. I didn’t want to do it, but they begged, and Tori was on her best behavior the first time we met. I had no idea what I was getting into.”
Mel almost felt sorry for the guy.
He looked out the window, where the village of Gallant Lake was beginning to come to life. People were strolling the sidewalks and coming in for their Sunday morning coffee. Shane looked back to Mel, his blue eyes solemn.
“Tori got famous overnight, and her family wasn’t ready. They hired some local attorney to manage her career, and the woman knew nothing about sports. Tori’s contract with Winthrop Athletic is a joke. She should be sponsored by a much bigger name and making a lot more money.” Shane shook his head. “When Gary came along and offered to take over her career by becoming her golf coach, her parents jumped at the chance to hand off responsibility. But he can’t control her behavior, and it’s really not his job to do that. Tori’s laser-focused on the course, but then she’ll act out like a two-year-old over something like what to wear to a public event.”
Mel thought about the outfit Tori had worn to the gala last night. “She’s trying to figure out who she is and how to assert herself so she doesn’t get lost.”
Trust me, Mellie, I know a lot more about this business than you, and if you’ll just stop fighting me and do what I say, you’ll be famous. Isn’t that what you want?
Tori was tougher than she’d been at that age. The girl was fighting to maintain some kind of control over what her life should look like. Mel had handed over control early on in her modeling career, trusting the adults around her. If she’d maintained her childhood friends—stayed in touch, hung out with them to talk about boys and makeup and music—maybe she wouldn’t have been so insecure and easy to manipulate.
Shane scrubbed his face once more, then ran his fingers through that ginger hair until it was standing on end.
“Tori’s a good kid,” he said. “I want to do the right thing by her, and not just because it’s my job.” He tapped his finger against his coffee cup, drumming to some unknown beat in his head. “You say she’s trying not to get lost, but I’m the one who’s lost. I’m used to working with guys who are at least old enough to have graduated high school. I can cuss at them and boss ’em around and bust their balls, and we all laugh it off. If they don’t like my decisions, they tell me to go screw myself, we argue and we settle it. Out in the open. No mystery involved. I can handle that. But I have no idea how to handle a young girl dressing like a hooker in some sort of protest against me for some unknown reason. I’m not a damned mind reader, you know?”
Mel didn’t respond. Shane Brannigan was a talent agent, and she shouldn’t trust a word out of his mouth. But she couldn’t help but believe him when he said he was lost. Clueless was more like it. Not intentionally so, but the effects on Tori were the same.
“So what does Mrs. Winthrop think you hired me for?”
“Damned if I know. Mentor? Stylist? Chaperone?” He sat back in his chair and his gaze sharpened on her. “You complained yesterday that Tori didn’t have a chaperone. Would you be interested in doing that for the next few weeks? She’ll be back on the tour by mid-July, in time to pick up most of the majors. I can put you on the payroll...” He glanced at her baggy sweater and ball cap, his mouth quirking up into a grin. “And it looks like you’ve fallen on hard times, so...?”
He was a real comedian this morning. Of course, compared to her, he looked like he was ready for a GQ cover shoot in his pressed trousers and blue linen shirt. It was barely 8:00 a.m. On a Sunday.
“You’re one of those annoying morning people, aren’t you?”
Shane’s smile deepened, causing her heart to stutter again. “Guilty as charged. I don’t like wasting daylight. Interested in the job?”
She stared at her plate. If she worked for Shane, she’d have to answer to him. Tori needed a chaperone, but even more important, she needed a friend in Gallant Lake. Someone who had her back. No one had ever stepped up to do that for Mel when she was sixteen. They’d all just looked the other way and collected their paychecks. Mel wasn’t going to let that happen to Tori.
“No.” There was a flash of surprise in his eyes. “I won’t work for you as her chaperone. I’ll do it for free.”
“For free? That’s not a very good business plan, Mellie...uh... Mel.” His brows knit together, as if she’d just presented him with a puzzle to solve. She had a feeling he didn’t like puzzles much.
“Look, that girl needs a friend while she’s here. Someone she can relax with, have fun with, talk to. I’ll be that person, but not on your payroll. Not on your time clock.” She stood, emphasizing her point one last time before walking away.
“I don’t charge for friendship.”