a thermal shirt under her Team Saint T-shirt, and the sleeves were now dirty and stained.
Lorelei took a long drink and groaned as she leanedagainst the Dumpster. “You owe me a massage and a manicure.”
“Done.” The look of surprise on Lorelei’s face told Vivi she’d been looking for a chance to grumble, and that look was well worth what she’d pay for the spa. “I do appreciate your help, though. We are kicking Connor’s butt.”
“It’s a fine butt to kick, if you ask me.”
“I happen to agree,” said Vivi.
Lorelei snorted, and Vivi wanted to suck the words back in.
“It
is
a very fine butt, isn’t it? I didn’t know you’d noticed.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“Slave-driver.” Lorelei pulled her gloves back on. “I feel bad for Connor, though.”
“What?”
“It’s got to suck to always have a camera following you around. Here he is, trying to do charity work, and while everyone wants him to
talk
about what he’s doing, none of them will actually let him
do
it.”
Vivi turned to look at the circus on the other side of the street. Connor and his team were being followed by camera crews and reporters. It was good publicity for what they were doing, but it meant Connor’s team was doing it very, very slowly. Lorelei had a point, but still…“Pardon me if I don’t cry for him.”
“Wow, you’re mean. It’s a good thing the Bon Argent people don’t know you better or they’d pull your halo in a heartbeat, Saint Vivi.”
“He told me yesterday how much his fans mean to him. He doesn’t mind this.”
“There’s a big difference between fans who love and admire him and the press who just want something from him.”
When had Lorelei developed such insights—
and
the needto share them? “Maybe. But the two go hand in hand. He can’t have one without the other, so…”
Lorelei patted her on the shoulder. “You just keep clinging to that if it makes you feel better.” Grabbing an empty trash bag, she started to walk away. Over her shoulder, though, she tossed one last grenade. “But remember it the next time you wonder why everyone always thought you were so sanctimonious.”
Lorelei was too far away for Vivi to rebut the accusation, and her words hung in the air like a rebuke. A very unfair rebuke. She
wasn’t
sanctimonious, darn it; she just had a strong inner compass. That wasn’t a character flaw; it was practically a virtue. More people needed that kind of inner knowledge; otherwise they ended up in the tabloids like Connor.
But…Connor
was
rather struggling over there, and with the press in the way nothing was going to get done, and that was what was really important. He’d mentioned his loyalty to his fans, but nothing about the press. She could throw him a rope.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed to the middle of the street. Hands on her hips in what she hoped looked like annoyance, she shouted as loud as she could, “Hey, Connor!” Cameras turned in her direction, but she brazened it out. “You gonna stand around all day like a pretty boy or are you gonna work?”
Silence fell. She raised an eyebrow and all the heads swiveled back to Connor for his response. Connor met her eyes and she swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile before he caught it.
“It’s not that my team doesn’t relish kicking your butt,” she said, and a cheer went up behind her from her team, “but it just doesn’t seem sporting if you’re not even trying.”
“We’re just warming up, Vivi, so don’t start celebratingtoo soon.” He turned to the press. “Y’all have enough to run with. You’re welcome to stay, but if you do I’m going to expect you to work. I’ve got some catching up to do.”
There were grumbles, both from the media and Connor’s team, but the reminder seemed to do the trick. Work gloves were pulled back on, trash bags picked back up and cameras loaded into vans. Connor joined her on the street—neutral territory
Lorelei took a long drink and groaned as she leanedagainst the Dumpster. “You owe me a massage and a manicure.”
“Done.” The look of surprise on Lorelei’s face told Vivi she’d been looking for a chance to grumble, and that look was well worth what she’d pay for the spa. “I do appreciate your help, though. We are kicking Connor’s butt.”
“It’s a fine butt to kick, if you ask me.”
“I happen to agree,” said Vivi.
Lorelei snorted, and Vivi wanted to suck the words back in.
“It
is
a very fine butt, isn’t it? I didn’t know you’d noticed.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“Slave-driver.” Lorelei pulled her gloves back on. “I feel bad for Connor, though.”
“What?”
“It’s got to suck to always have a camera following you around. Here he is, trying to do charity work, and while everyone wants him to
talk
about what he’s doing, none of them will actually let him
do
it.”
Vivi turned to look at the circus on the other side of the street. Connor and his team were being followed by camera crews and reporters. It was good publicity for what they were doing, but it meant Connor’s team was doing it very, very slowly. Lorelei had a point, but still…“Pardon me if I don’t cry for him.”
“Wow, you’re mean. It’s a good thing the Bon Argent people don’t know you better or they’d pull your halo in a heartbeat, Saint Vivi.”
“He told me yesterday how much his fans mean to him. He doesn’t mind this.”
“There’s a big difference between fans who love and admire him and the press who just want something from him.”
When had Lorelei developed such insights—
and
the needto share them? “Maybe. But the two go hand in hand. He can’t have one without the other, so…”
Lorelei patted her on the shoulder. “You just keep clinging to that if it makes you feel better.” Grabbing an empty trash bag, she started to walk away. Over her shoulder, though, she tossed one last grenade. “But remember it the next time you wonder why everyone always thought you were so sanctimonious.”
Lorelei was too far away for Vivi to rebut the accusation, and her words hung in the air like a rebuke. A very unfair rebuke. She
wasn’t
sanctimonious, darn it; she just had a strong inner compass. That wasn’t a character flaw; it was practically a virtue. More people needed that kind of inner knowledge; otherwise they ended up in the tabloids like Connor.
But…Connor
was
rather struggling over there, and with the press in the way nothing was going to get done, and that was what was really important. He’d mentioned his loyalty to his fans, but nothing about the press. She could throw him a rope.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed to the middle of the street. Hands on her hips in what she hoped looked like annoyance, she shouted as loud as she could, “Hey, Connor!” Cameras turned in her direction, but she brazened it out. “You gonna stand around all day like a pretty boy or are you gonna work?”
Silence fell. She raised an eyebrow and all the heads swiveled back to Connor for his response. Connor met her eyes and she swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile before he caught it.
“It’s not that my team doesn’t relish kicking your butt,” she said, and a cheer went up behind her from her team, “but it just doesn’t seem sporting if you’re not even trying.”
“We’re just warming up, Vivi, so don’t start celebratingtoo soon.” He turned to the press. “Y’all have enough to run with. You’re welcome to stay, but if you do I’m going to expect you to work. I’ve got some catching up to do.”
There were grumbles, both from the media and Connor’s team, but the reminder seemed to do the trick. Work gloves were pulled back on, trash bags picked back up and cameras loaded into vans. Connor joined her on the street—neutral territory
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