Beauty and The Best (Once-Upon-A-Time Romance) Read Online Free

job—”
    “ And it’s my house. Dishes can sit.”
    He held out a hand to her. The faster they got out of here, the faster he didn’t have to deal.
    Then the doorbell chimed. Now what? He dropped his hand and spun on his heel toward the foyer. “I’ll get this while you hang up your apron and get your purse.”
    He yanked on the brass handle, then immediately tried to shut the door when he saw who was on the other side, but Lizette was quick.
    Too quick, dammit.
    The news anchorwoman shoved a microphone in his face and her foot in the door, the cameraman’s red light blinking like a distress signal behind her.
    “ Mr. Best, if you could give our viewers an idea of what today means—”
    “ No comment. All publicity is to go through the office.” He stepped out of the line of filming and tried to maneuver her foot back through the door. He didn’t want to do bodily harm, but he could be persuaded to change his mind.
    “ They gave me the same response.”
    “ Then that’s your answer. No comment.” He closed the door enough to trap her foot and let her know he meant business. Luckily, she knew when enough was enough and retreated.
    He shut the door, sliding the deadbolt home, then rested his head against the doorframe.
    The phone rang again.
    He was going to lose it. His stomach was churning, acid backing up into his throat. He wanted to scream, beat his head against the mahogany door, rip down walls…something. Anything to end this charade of normalcy that he was barely hanging on to.
    He should have bought a new bottle of Beam last night, not just pulled out the remnants of another night’s misery. He could’ve spent the day in a stupor, fading in and out on his sofa, and letting this whole fucking day just pass him by.
    “ Are you okay?”
    Jolie.
    He sighed. He’d forgotten she was here.
    He cleared his throat and pushed off the door, turning to face her. The phone rang again.
    He had to get out of the house. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He took another breath. He would be all right; that was the sad irony of it. “How do you feel about a duck and run?”
    “ Duck and run?”
    “ My car’s inside the garage. You’re going to want to duck your head to avoid making tonight’s news.”
    “ I am?”
    Poor thing was looking at him like a deer in the headlights. Or maybe like a sane person staring at a crazy one. He grabbed her hand and headed toward the garage door. “You are. Or you’ll find yourself the object of intense media scrutiny. That reporter, and others like her, will hound you for information about me.”
    “ What could I possibly tell them?”
    Exactly .
    He stopped, his grip tightening as she swung around to face him. His fingers clenched around hers. “Nothing, Jolie. You’re to tell them absolutely nothing. No matter how much anyone offers you for my life story these days, or any snippets about how I live, don’t tell them a damn thing.” He opened the garage door.
    “ The last thing I need or want is for my life to be an open book.”

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    “ Ready?” Todd secured his seatbelt in the 560 SL and turned on the ignition.
    Sunlight streamed in the beveled windows at the top of the garage door as Jolie bent forward, her mink hair spread over a gauzy top so splashed with color it reminded him of his drop cloths.
    Not that he’d seen one of those in two years. Nor would he ever again.
    “ As I’ll ever be.” She wrapped her arms around her legs, tucking her purse beneath the seat and her head between her Indian Yellow capris. Todd punched the garage door button, feeling like a racecar driver in the starting gate—only he had more to lose than a driving trophy.
    Gunning it, they bounced over the end of the driveway as the newswoman and her cameraman clunked down the walkway. He knew Lizette; he’d been counting on her heels to slow her up.
    In the street, he slammed on the brakes, silently apologizing to the Mercedes and Jolie, then shoved the car