The Randy Romance Novelist(69)
Before I could stop him, Freddy grabbed hold of Rosie and pulled her into a hug. She awkwardly put her arms around him and gave him two pats on the back before backing away, legs still crossed.
“Nice to meet you, Freddy. You must be Henry’s bro he’s always talking about.” The way she said bro didn’t escape me; she was making fun of him.
Excitement passed through Freddy as he tipped my chin with his finger. “You’re talking about me at home, bro-tien shake? And here I thought you didn’t like me.”
Rosie shook her head and interjected before I could answer. “Oh no, he talks about you all the time.”
The devil himself resided in her small little body.
“Bro Montana,” Freddy held his chest, touched my Rosie’s sentiment. Damn it all to hell. “We are going to lunch together next week, especially after Eric names you . . .”
“Whoa, did you step up your weight lifting routine?” I asked Freddy, cutting him off before he could spill the beans about the possible promotion. Didn’t need Rosie finding that out right now, especially since something was going on with her legs.
Beef cake himself flexed his muscles and said, “I did. Thanks for noticing. I started working with a new trainer who’s been working on my nutrition intake. We’ve been shredding, and I have to admit, it’s been tough, but it’s been paying off. What I wouldn’t give for a crumb of bread right now.”
“You’re not eating bread?” Rosie asked, looking a little too fascinated by Freddy’s muscles. I puffed my chest just a bit and flexed my arms under my jacket.
Yup, still had it. I just wasn’t Gaston from Beauty and the Beast, standing width wise at barn height.
“No carbs whatsoever. It’s been torture, I’m not going to lie.” Freddy gripped my shoulder as he spoke. “Lunches have been hard because I really enjoy a good hoagie from the corner deli. I have a lot of muscles; I have to feed them, you know.”
“You sure do.” Rosie continued to scan Freddy’s body, irking me with every pass she made. “You know, you would be a perfect cover model for books. Have you ever thought about taking your shirt off for the camera and flexing?”
“Damn, I like your girl,” Freddy laughed. “I’ve never really thought about it. You think I could be a good cover model?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Rosie nodded, her finger in her mouth.
I repeat, her FINGER in her mouth.
“I’m in a bunch of book groups on Facebook, and when they’re not posting pictures of erect penises, they are posting pictures of hot men. I think women would go crazy over you. I also have some author friends who are always looking for the latest and greatest cover model. You could be him!”
“I might have to take you up on that offer.” Freddy scooted closer to Rosie. “I could do some penis shots too; I have no shame.”
“You should,” I said. Both Rosie and Freddy looked in my direction, and that was when I realized I had said that out loud. To cover myself, I laughed and nudged Freddy’s shoulder. “Just bro-ing ’round with you.”
It took Freddy a second, but then he joined with my laughter, and I exhaled in relief.
“We’re always bro-ing,” he spoke to Rosie, still gripping my shoulder. “You should see us in the office. Like two peas in a pod.”
“I can tell, the comradery between you two is uncanny.”
“Okay.” I removed Freddy’s hand from my shoulder. “If you will excuse us, I’m going to take Rosie around. We’ll catch you later.”
“You got it, Brodeo. I will catch you and the little babe-bino later.”
Politely, I smiled and guided Rosie away from the douche canoe and toward my campaign designs. “He was fun.” Mirth was prevalent in her voice.
“Yeah, you will pay for that later. Now, you were saying something about why you’re walking strangely.” I whispered in her ear, holding her close to my side, so no one could hear our conversation.
“Henry and Rosie, what a delight to see you both . . . together,” Tasha said, walking up to us, holding a glass of champagne in her hand and swaying a little too heavily.
Please let her be drunk. Please let her be so drunk that she head plants into the fondue display and sprays chocolate all over her mock-ups.
“Hey, Tasha. You remember Rosie?”
A snarly dog was now holding my hand; Rosie’s lip curled in disgust, and she didn’t even bother saying hi. Tasha picked up on Rosie’s attitude.
“Good to see you too, Rosie. Hey, I never got to apologize for when you walked in on Henry and me.”
“Nope,” I shook my head. “You’re not talking about that because nothing happened, and don’t you even try to make it seem like something happened. Honestly, Tasha, neither of us want to talk to you, so take your bad wig and alcoholic beverage and go make an embarrassment of yourself somewhere else.”
Tasha’s smile turned into a sneer, and she was about to say something most likely incredibly rude, when she saw someone from behind us approach. She straightened her posture and lowered her drink.
“Darlene, Danielle, you look fantastic,” Tasha complimented.
Carefully, I turned both myself and Rosie, so we opened up our little circle to let in Darlene, Danielle, Eric, and two executives from Legacy. I squeezed Rosie’s hand, trying to telepathically let her know these were important people.