Love Match (10 page)

“Trying too hard? I wasn't trying anything. That's a typical date for me. Okay, I did pay, but that's only because it was my idea.”

“And it was on your parents' cards,” Cleo suggested.

“Exactly.”

Maya shared another glance with Cleo behind Renee's back. “Renee, you know what kind of background Diego comes from, right?”

“Oh, I get that,” Renee said. “I can deal with a guy who's weird about me paying. I can usually play that stuff off. But no
guy has ever ended the night with me before. I'm the one who tells him when it's over. And that's not even the worst part.”

Maya was officially confused. “What is?”

Renee let out another deep sigh. She wasn't often a drama queen, but her royal act was in overdrive. “
I care!
”

“Okay?” Maya and Cleo said in unison.

“I don't usually
care
,” Renee said. “I've had bad dates before. And, okay, this was like the
worst
of the worst. But usually I just chalk it up to the guy and move on. Girls, I'm not moving on. I want to know what I did wrong. I want to fix it. I want to go out with him again even though I might come out of a second date looking even more pathetic.”

The final look Maya shared with Cleo behind Renee's back had them both smiling. They didn't enjoy taking pleasure in their friend's pain, but it was kind of nice to see the most confident one of their trio with a slight crack in her cool demeanor.

“That's not a bad thing,” Maya said. “It means you like him.”

“Like, you
like him
, like him,” Cleo added.

“You like him a lot,” Maya continued in a sing-songy voice.

“Oh my God,” Renee said. “I think I do.”

Maya was no stranger to pain. In the years she'd been playing tennis she suffered through blisters, strains, sprains, and more serious injuries earned from her time on the court. None of that pain compared to the agony of wearing a pair of Ottaviano shoes. They were the most uncomfortable footwear she'd ever encountered, including the walking brace she had to wear for a month in seventh grade.

Maya sat in the empty lobby of the Creative Core Ad Agency dressed entirely in borrowed clothes. She had developed such a pattern of borrowing Renee's clothes that she considered offering to pay rent.

Renee had great taste and was much more knowledgeable about this world. Maya had wanted to dress in Esteban from head to toe, but Renee stopped her. The famous designer's labels filled Renee's closet, but she wouldn't let her friend take any of it. “Too obvious,” she'd said.

Once Renee was done with her, Maya was outfitted in a Michael Kors dress, a Cartier Tank watch, a Chanel bag, and those hideously uncomfortable but ultimately gorgeous heels. Only then did Renee reach back into her closet and top off the look with an Esteban scarf that complemented the outfit perfectly. The one outfit cost more than Maya's wardrobe budget for the whole year, but she looked good sitting in that lobby. If only someone other than the receptionist would see her in it.

Maya had been waiting for an hour with no sign she was going to be seen anytime soon. She'd be annoyed, but she was too busy trying not to throw up.

They'd never keep Nicole King waiting this long
, she told herself. Nicole would never put up with it. She'd have been gone long ago.

Maya considered getting up and walking out. Since she was effectively a nobody, there was no chance she'd book the job, but it would send a message.
Maya Hart doesn't wait for anyone
.

She'd never do something like that, but it was fun to imagine. The shadow that suddenly fell over her told her she didn't need to think about it anymore. She put on her brightest smile and raised her head.

“What are
you
doing here?”

Travis's smile was as bright as her own. “Wow. That was not the greeting I expected.”

“Sorry,” Maya sputtered. “But … what
are
you doing here? Did Jordan send you for moral support?”

Travis slid in next to her on the leather bench. “What do you need moral support for? You're going to be great.”

“Thank you. But why are you here?”

“I'm up for the ad, too,” he said. “Jordan mentioned it to Dad after she told you about it. They're looking for a girl and a guy for the campaign. He arranged it for me. I didn't say anything because I wanted to surprise you when you got out of the audition. How did it go?”

“It hasn't gone yet,” she said. “I'm still waiting.”

“Really? Wow. That's incredibly unprofessional. Let me check in and see if we can do something about that.” Travis stood back up.

“Travis, no.”

He shook her off. “It's okay, Maya. I'm not going to cause a scene. I'm just going to let them know I'm here.”

Maya watched as Travis sauntered away. Questions flooded her mind as the old doubts came back in. Was Travis using her for this opportunity? Is that what their friendship was about? She worried that there were already plans for them to be the next big media couple. Traya? Mavis?

There was no doubt in her mind that Nails liked them together for that reason, but Travis was still an unknown. He had as much right to try out for the campaign as she did. And it wasn't like they'd be competing against each other. It was kind of nice to have his friendly face around.

Even looking at him from behind, Maya could tell he was flashing that bright Reed smile on his walk to the reception desk. She couldn't hear what he said to the receptionist, but the woman looked a lot happier than she had the entire time Maya sat in the lobby. Maya envied his charm. She feared it as well.

The receptionist picked up her phone and made a quick
call while Travis returned to Maya. By the time he'd reached the leather bench, a door to the right of the reception desk opened and a frantic-looking man hurried out. He introduced himself simply as Steven and told them to follow him.

“I'm so sorry we kept you waiting, Ms. Hart,” Steven said. “And thank you for coming by, too, Mr. Reed. We had a minor crisis this afternoon, but it's been resolved. Since we're at the end of the day, I hope you two won't mind sharing the meeting?”

“Not a problem,” Travis said. “We're old friends.”

“Fine with me,” Maya agreed. So far, their friendship was coming in handy.

“That's great, Maya,” Steven said as the camera flashed away. “Now try for a smile that's a little less … strained.”

Maya relaxed her smile as much as she could. Her face didn't feel strained to her. The rest of her body, however, was an uncoordinated mess. She really wished that she'd worn her own clothing. It might not have looked as good as Renee's, but she would have been more comfortable.

The problem began at the shoes, then worked its way up to include everything else she had on. Maya simply didn't know how to move in the outfit. It was easy to blame the clothes, but the truth was, it was the camera. And all the people behind the camera.

Steven, who she'd come to learn was an executive assistant, worked the camera for the test shots. He was friendly enough, but his frantic nature did nothing to calm her nerves no matter how soothing his words. Steven's boss and a half-dozen
agency executives sat at a long table behind Steven, whispering to one another while she posed.

The initial interview had gone well. With Travis by her side, it was more like a casual conversation. They were looking for “fresh faces,” which Maya was happy to learn just meant “amateurs.” Models didn't come much more amateur than her.

The executives had been engaging when they talked about Maya's recent tournament and the buzz about Travis on the field. Although Maya was “Maya” through the entire discussion, they kept calling Travis “Reed.” It wasn't unusual to call a football player by his last name, but it sounded weird since they never called her “Hart.”

Maya stopped going over the interview in her head and tried to focus on the posing. Steven continued to snap away while he gave instructions. “Try to look like you're having … you know … fun.”

Maya tried, but this was the least fun she'd had in her life. Every pose felt faker than the last. Balancing on heels with one arm out toward the camera and a seductive expression on her face didn't exactly scream “Ready to hit the courts.”

“I think we're good,” one of the executives said, finally. Maya thanked everyone, then sat in an empty seat beside Travis on the side of the room.

“Your turn,” she said quietly to him through a forced smile.

“Don't know that I'll be able to beat that, but I'll do my best.”

“Flatterer,” she said. “Lying flatterer.”

He patted her on the cheek. “Just wait to see how bad I can do.”

Travis was actually pretty good at modeling. His poses came across naturally. He seemed comfortable in front of the camera. It made sense, since he'd grown up in the public eye. He was born at the height of Nails's career, when the media was interested in every aspect of the superstar's life. A simple Google search netted enough pictures of Nails and his children to make a scrapbook for each year of the boys' lives.

Maya was glad to be off to the side of the room. With Steven positioned between her and Travis, she had a pretty good view of what the executives saw. She was also close enough to hear a whisper that came out a bit louder than one executive probably anticipated.

“Reed's got a good look, but there's nothing behind the eyes.”

The two executives on either side of the bad whisperer nodded in agreement. Maya tried to see what they meant, but she didn't have a clue. Travis's eyes looked like they always did: hazel with tiny flecks of green and perfectly adorable.

She shook herself out of it. That wasn't the way friends thought about each other.

Maya felt like she'd been up there for hours, but Travis only went a few minutes before one of the nameless execs said, “Thanks, Reed. You can sit back down beside Maya.”

“Thanks.” Travis did as instructed.

“You were great,” Maya said with complete honesty. She chose to leave out what she'd overheard. It wouldn't help him any to know about it.

“Now you're the liar.” He playfully swatted her on the nose.

“
That's
what we're looking for!” the loud-whispering executive said. Maya was surprised to find everyone in the room looking right at them.

“Could you two take some shots together?” another executive asked. “Give us some of that chemistry on display in that photo on the Wall.”

Maya didn't know what the woman was talking about. When she looked at the picture on the Wall, all she saw was herself and her friends walking out of a club. The rest of it had been manufactured by whoever had written the article. But if “chemistry” would get her the job, she'd do what she could. It wasn't like being intimate with Travis was that hard to do.

Travis stood first and held out a hand to Maya. “You ready for this?”

Maya took his hand. “Guess I can't screw it up any worse.”

“There's that positive attitude I love.”

They both smiled as they walked in front of Steven and his camera. For the first time, Maya understood what the amateur photographer had said earlier. This smile felt completely genuine.

“Let's start with—oh, that's good.” Steven's camera clicked away.

Maya wasn't sure what was good about it. She and Travis were just smiling and looking at each other. They both played into it, smiling wider and suddenly laughing for no reason at all.

“Let's see some smolder,” one of the executives suggested.

Maya and Travis let out one last laugh. How were they supposed to be serious with directions like that?

Travis raised his eyebrows in a silent dare. She winked in turn to accept. Their laughter ended. This part was easy. Maya just remembered the first time she'd seen Travis. How he'd come to her rescue when his dad was about to kick her out of school. What he looked like shirtless by the tennis courts later. Before she'd grown suspicious of his intentions. Before her feelings got all confused.

Maya didn't feel the “smolder.” What she felt was warm and sweet, not hot and passionate, but it was deeper than friendship. She wanted to cover him in tiny kisses, not high fives and fist bumps.

As the camera continued to click, their hands explored each other's bodies, always aware that they weren't alone, but more intimate than they'd normally be in a public setting. They had to sell that image if they wanted the job. But this was more than just a chance at a gig. This was
something
.

Finally Maya understood what the executive had been talking about in seeing it behind Travis's eyes. She saw something in there now, beyond the hazel with the green flecks. She saw the same thing she knew he saw in hers.

They were never going to be just friends.

Where was Cleo when Maya needed her? Or Renee for that matter?

Travis had been kind enough to give her a ride back to campus so she didn't have to take the bus. The whole drive was awkward and uncomfortable as they both tried to avoid the obvious—there was no better word for it—
chemistry
between them during the shoot. Once they reached the dorm,
she practically bolted out of the car to get away from him and tell Cleo everything. But the dorm room was empty and Renee wasn't answering her phone.

They were probably at the dining hall, where it was usually too loud to hear most ringtones. Maya thought about going there, but she didn't need prying eyes watching and eavesdropping ears listening in.

The ring of her own cell phone cut through her tension. Maya was about to yell into it with relief when she stopped herself. It wasn't Cleo's or Renee's name on the caller ID. It was Jordan's.