Read Online Never Just Friends (Spotlight New Adult Book 2) by Mina V. Esguerra - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mina V. Esguerra
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words. Turn on that Jacob Berkeley charm and they’ll be eating out of your hand.”
“But I don’t want to sound like an idiot.”
“You actually know this. You’ve studied it,” she said. “They’ll usher you out as soon as you’re done speaking, but in the off chance that someone fields you a question afterward, and the organizers let it happen, you know what to do right?”
He paused for a sec, and then raised his arm so she could see his hand, thumb tucked inside his fist.
She laughed. “Exactly. I’ll come up and gracefully get you out of anything unplanned. But like I said—straightforward, not hammy, smile once in a while. Flirt a little. You’ll do fine.”
She meant for that to be encouraging, but a fire lit inside him. He didn’t come all this way to be mistaken for a pretty face.
***
Three times, he had to pause for applause. Five, including when he was introduced, and when he thanked the audience and stepped down from the stage.
He counted.
During script table readings, he made notes whenever a line of his affected the room the right way. He unconsciously did that here, now, as he read his speech about the efforts to restore the forests as the earth’s “lungs.” Those three points of spontaneous applause? Lines from his own draft. He had come up with them. He had been worried about being too theatrical, and Lindsay had helped edit the drama out, but the room responded the right way to words that had been his.
Maybe it wasn’t too late for him, after all.
Someone else had taken the stage to speak after him, but that didn’t prevent people from approaching him as he made his way down the conference hall.
Can you send us a copy of your speech, and do we have your permission to translate it to French, Mandarin, Spanish, and Russian?
I met you at the Caine fundraiser in California. Here’s my card again.
I’m surprised you’re here. Shouldn’t you be filming the show? Have you been written off?
If you’re staying the rest of the three days, perhaps we could have coffee?
Jake negotiated this and a dozen more questions, before managing to find Lindsay again. Usually he didn’t have to do that. Cora had a PR “minder” go with him the few times he had gone out to do publicity for the show, and that person’s job was to tell him he was needed somewhere else, so he wouldn’t have to mingle and spend too much time socializing at social functions. They had decided not to do that here, so he had to remember to politely end his conversations on his own.
Lindsay was standing in front of the Caine Foundation booth, set up as one among many lined up along the wide corridor in front of the main session hall. He almost missed seeing her on first glance, because she had put her hair up, and covered up her blue dress with some kind of coat or blazer.
There was also a tall man holding her hand. European. Curly hair.
That was probably what threw him off the most.
It was interesting, how he instantly wanted to beat his chest and throw a punch, at the sight of this. She was smiling, talking, and the other guy looked like he wanted to devour her. His approach didn’t register in their peripheral vision at all; he had to walk right into their cozy little conversation before he was noticed.
“Hey,” Lindsay said, taking her hand back from the guy and hooking the same arm around his. “You did great. No need for the signal, obviously.”
“Thank you,” Jake said. “You saw everything?”
“I did, from a few rows down. Noticed you were getting mobbed trying to get out.”
The man took note of their linked arms, but his smug grin didn’t fade. “Lindsay, you didn’t tell me that you’re now—how did we discuss it— attached . I assume you’re Victor?”
His accent was Italian, and Jake didn’t feel like shaking the hand that was being offered to him just then.
“Rocco,” Lindsay scolded, and Jake immediately disliked that obvious, easy familiarity. “God.
“But I don’t want to sound like an idiot.”
“You actually know this. You’ve studied it,” she said. “They’ll usher you out as soon as you’re done speaking, but in the off chance that someone fields you a question afterward, and the organizers let it happen, you know what to do right?”
He paused for a sec, and then raised his arm so she could see his hand, thumb tucked inside his fist.
She laughed. “Exactly. I’ll come up and gracefully get you out of anything unplanned. But like I said—straightforward, not hammy, smile once in a while. Flirt a little. You’ll do fine.”
She meant for that to be encouraging, but a fire lit inside him. He didn’t come all this way to be mistaken for a pretty face.
***
Three times, he had to pause for applause. Five, including when he was introduced, and when he thanked the audience and stepped down from the stage.
He counted.
During script table readings, he made notes whenever a line of his affected the room the right way. He unconsciously did that here, now, as he read his speech about the efforts to restore the forests as the earth’s “lungs.” Those three points of spontaneous applause? Lines from his own draft. He had come up with them. He had been worried about being too theatrical, and Lindsay had helped edit the drama out, but the room responded the right way to words that had been his.
Maybe it wasn’t too late for him, after all.
Someone else had taken the stage to speak after him, but that didn’t prevent people from approaching him as he made his way down the conference hall.
Can you send us a copy of your speech, and do we have your permission to translate it to French, Mandarin, Spanish, and Russian?
I met you at the Caine fundraiser in California. Here’s my card again.
I’m surprised you’re here. Shouldn’t you be filming the show? Have you been written off?
If you’re staying the rest of the three days, perhaps we could have coffee?
Jake negotiated this and a dozen more questions, before managing to find Lindsay again. Usually he didn’t have to do that. Cora had a PR “minder” go with him the few times he had gone out to do publicity for the show, and that person’s job was to tell him he was needed somewhere else, so he wouldn’t have to mingle and spend too much time socializing at social functions. They had decided not to do that here, so he had to remember to politely end his conversations on his own.
Lindsay was standing in front of the Caine Foundation booth, set up as one among many lined up along the wide corridor in front of the main session hall. He almost missed seeing her on first glance, because she had put her hair up, and covered up her blue dress with some kind of coat or blazer.
There was also a tall man holding her hand. European. Curly hair.
That was probably what threw him off the most.
It was interesting, how he instantly wanted to beat his chest and throw a punch, at the sight of this. She was smiling, talking, and the other guy looked like he wanted to devour her. His approach didn’t register in their peripheral vision at all; he had to walk right into their cozy little conversation before he was noticed.
“Hey,” Lindsay said, taking her hand back from the guy and hooking the same arm around his. “You did great. No need for the signal, obviously.”
“Thank you,” Jake said. “You saw everything?”
“I did, from a few rows down. Noticed you were getting mobbed trying to get out.”
The man took note of their linked arms, but his smug grin didn’t fade. “Lindsay, you didn’t tell me that you’re now—how did we discuss it— attached . I assume you’re Victor?”
His accent was Italian, and Jake didn’t feel like shaking the hand that was being offered to him just then.
“Rocco,” Lindsay scolded, and Jake immediately disliked that obvious, easy familiarity. “God.
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