Bad Reputations: A steamy, celebrity romance (The Breaking Through Series Book 1) Read online

  “And try not to let them steer the conversation back to the old days.” Blake leaned beside Kirin at her kitchen counter Monday morning, his dark green eyes hooded as he watched her putting on make-up.

  All the powders and pencils Pippa had taught her to master were now being put to use as she dabbed her nose, then combed her newly groomed and colored brows. The makeup artist on the show would do a touch-up job, but she wanted to arrive looking her best.

  And she was looking better than the puffy-eyed vision she’d woken to the past two mornings. She wasn’t ashamed to admit she’d cried through the weekend, just as she’d cried the last time she’d made love with Blake. This was all part of shedding her old, vulnerable self, and she was getting used to how much it hurt.

  “This will be the turning point, Kirin. It’s your first exposure back on national television, the first chance to talk about the future, and your first opportunity to show off everything we’ve achieved in the last two weeks.” He bent and scratched Dudley behind the ears, and her dog threw himself unceremoniously at Blake’s feet.

  Kirin rubbed her lips together, then sat back on the stool. “What if I screw up? What if Felicity does what Larry Williams did and throws me something like a sex tape?”

  He reached out and took her hand, stroking the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. And her blood heated. “Then you’ll do what we practiced. You’ll rise above it, project all the confidence we know is inside you, and you’ll say that private lives are private and you’re not prepared to talk about it. But that you are prepared to talk about your new ice cream brand or the charity dinner.”

  He looked so confident, so sure she could pull this off, and her chest tightened. When she’d met Blake, she’d wanted to succeed for herself. Prove to everyone around her that she was a good person, a great businesswoman, and an excellent cook who’d never use her power over an employee. Now, looking at this man who’d touched her on levels she never knew existed, the only person she wanted to do this for was him.

  She wanted Blake to be proud of her—not just in the way she looked, but the way she spoke, what she stood for, what she wanted to be. What she’d achieved as a woman and a businesswoman. She’d spent the better part of the weekend fighting the urge to call and tell him she couldn’t sleep without him holding her, couldn’t cook without him asking why parmesan smelled of old socks, and hearing his groan as he watched her pull on leggings or put her hair in a scrunchie.

  But that wasn’t part of the deal anymore. After today, Blake’s job would be done, and she’d be on her own again. She could do it, she’d come to know herself in these past few weeks like she’d never imagined. What she hadn’t counted on was falling in love with Blake.

  Falling in love?

  She gripped the makeup brush until it dug into her palm. She loved him. The thought ran wild in her head, and her pulse drummed at her temple, the complicated, impossible knowledge racing through her blood.

  He was still speaking to her, caressing her wrist with no understanding of the monumental revelation, no knowledge of how he’d slipped into her heart and would never leave it.

  And he never would know.

  She needed to move on, to be a strong and independent woman or he wouldn’t get the thing he wanted most in life—the biggest PR empire in the country. With shaking fingers, she drew back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Burying her feelings for him.

  For now.

  “There’s a studio audience this time. That makes me way more nervous than before. See, I’m trembling already.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “You’ve been in front of a camera more times than most of these people have had hot dinners. You’re a professional, you know the drill, and you’re going to be fine. And besides, I’ll be there.” Complicated emotions swam in his eyes.

  She twisted to look at him. “You’ll be there?” The pulse in her temple became a dull, hard ache. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything when they were together in public. It made her think back to the storeroom and the heights he’d taken her to.

  “There’s a live studio audience so there’s no reason for me not to be there. And besides, I can’t wait to see people’s reactions when they watch you and hear you.” He smiled tenderly. “You’re going to blow them away.”

  Terror gripped her insides. What if people could tell she was in love? In her current state, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t screw everything up completely. “What if I choke? What if they throw something at me I’m not expecting?”

  He dropped his tone to sexy smooth and his mouth hitched. “You think there might’ve been a security camera in the storeroom? That really would have made lesson three public.”

  When she gasped, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet while Dudley lumbered away. “Kirin, stop worrying. You look sensational, you are sensational. You’ll have everyone eating out of your hands, and you won’t even remember these past two weeks soon. You’ll be inundated with TV appearances and endorsements. I’ve spoken to your publicist, and he’s told them which subjects to avoid. We’ve said you’ll make one brief comment about the sexual harassment suit but that it’s not going to be the focus of the interview.”

  She bit her lip and looked up at him. “Whatever happens, I want you to know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me.”

  He put a finger to her lips, then bent his head and covered her mouth with his. For what could be their last moments together, Kirin melted into him, savoring his strength, his confidence and his never-ending belief in her. A deep, shaking sob built from the deepest part of her, but she smothered it dead.

  “No more talk,” he said, when he finally drew his lips away. “This is the moment when the new Kirin Hart is launched on the world. Go get ’em”.

  Two hours later, studio lights burned to the back of Kirin’s eyes, and her makeup felt as if it might melt and slide down her cheeks. It was too late to run and hide. The opening credit music was playing in her ear, and Felicity Farrell, the show’s host, was giving her the final nod, indicating they were about to go live.

  Her heart galloped. Everything hinged on what she said now—the public’s view of her past, her future, Blake’s future. In one last going-to-the-gallows movement, she let her eyes drift to the audience. They were shadowed in darkness, a sea of nameless faces, except for one she was so desperate to see right now. Where was Blake?

  The floor manager began clapping, and the audience joined in. With memories of her last live TV appearance rolling through her mind, her stomach did a half-pike double twist.

  “ . . . and my very special guest today is the celebrity chef and homemaking mogul, Kirin Hart. Welcome, Kirin. It feels like a long time since your fans have seen you in public.” Felicity gave a sweet smile. “How have things been for you lately?”

  She shifted on the chair, suddenly aware of how short the skirt was that Blake had picked out for her. Was she showing too much leg? Not enough? Should she cross her ankles? Sit sideways, or look straight into the camera?

  “Thanks so much for having me, Felicity.” Her mouth dried, the words sticking to her tongue. “It’s been a while, but it’s lovely to be back.”

  Felicity’s voice lowered. “Let’s talk a little about that sexual harassment suit.”

  Straight for the jugular.

  Kirin squeezed her hands together on her lap. “I’m afraid that for legal reasons, I can’t speak about any details to do with the suit, Felicity. What I can say is I’m very happy to be moving forward with my life after a very tough couple of years.” She moved her mouth to smile and, to her horror, realized her lips were trembling.

  “Moving forward? In what way?”

  She breathed a little slower. “I have a great new ice cream brand that we’ll be launching in the summer, I’m back doing guest catering—I just cooked for eight hundred people at the Venice Ballroom—and I’m in talks with a TV production company about a new cooking show.”

&nbs
p; “Sounds fantastic, Kirin. We all love your down home style and the real…” She paused. “Honesty you bring to your brand. And is your whole new look a part of these projects or is there another reason for your makeover?” Felicity turned toward the camera more. “You don’t mind my mentioning the fact that your appearance has undergone quite a dramatic transformation in the last couple weeks?”

  A chill worked its way down her spine. “I guess it’s always a good idea to freshen things up.”

  Felicity raised an eyebrow. “So your funky new skirts and high heels have nothing to do with having a new man? A younger man in your life.”

  Unbidden, her eyes swung out to the audience as her heart began to pound. How did they know? Who’d let this leak? Colin? Alex? Her mom? God, if people knew what had been happening with Blake, not only would she and her brand be back to square one, but Blake’s takeover of D and D would be on the line too.

  “I, ah…” Sweat trickled down her back.

  “Rumor has it that he’s had a very big influence on this whole fresh look of yours and that the two of you have become . . . extremely close.”

  Suddenly, her eyes landed on Blake, and it felt as if the whole world knew what she was thinking. He sat perfectly still, his rugged features composed to relaxed calm.

  A pulse beat sharp in her throat, and she tried to swallow it away. There were two possible answers to that question. She could deny Blake’s existence, say this was all her own work, that she was now strong and free and independent and ready to take on the world. Or she could say yes, a younger man has had an influence on her, and due to his guidance and support she was now strong and free and ready to take on the world.

  One of those answers was a lie, and she was sick to death of lying.

  “I don’t believe any woman should be judged by the relationships she has, Felicity. I’ve worked too hard over the course of my career to be judged by what happens in my personal life. But having said that, yes, I have been influenced by a man who came in to my life to help me with my image and I’ll be forever in his debt.”

  “But your personal life—with Joe Hart—was so much of what made you successful. You must understand that your fans feel a loyalty to Joe and everything he stood for as well. How are they supposed to trust this whole new image of you, and a new relationship, after everything that’s happened since Joe died?”

  She was referring to what she had with Blake as a new relationship. God, how had they gotten wind of this? “I do understand that, but I’d also hope my fans would want me to be happy, and they’d be more interested in my food than what I wore or who I was dating.” The words had fallen from her mouth before she’d really thought them through.

  Felicity leaned forward, little bubbles of saliva forming at the corner of her mouth. “What a lot of us are really asking is, will the real Kirin Hart please stand up? Perhaps you can show her to us after the commercial break.”

  Suddenly people were moving across the stage again. A woman came to powder Kirin’s nose and Felicity was joking with the floor manager about the next guest. All Kirin wanted to do was get the hell out of the hole she was digging herself into. She looked out at the studio audience to see Blake chatting to the women on either side of him.

  Who was the real Kirin Hart? Was she the woman Blake had been so desperate to transform? The one who’d had no sense of herself and no idea how to be sexy? Or was she the woman who, once transformed with the help of Blake’s skill and attention, suddenly became someone he wanted to have in his bed? Had she become Frankenstein’s monster, someone who fell in love with her creator but someone who that creator would never truly know?

  She watched as the women giggled and twirled their hair and how Blake seemed to come alive with their attention, and something shifted inside her. She knew the answers to Felicity’s questions, and she also knew that she’d lived a lie for the greater part of her life. The nightmare of the harassment suit would be played out over and over if she continued to cover her real feelings. If she wanted to show the world that she was a whole new person, then she wanted to start with the truth.

  Blake watched Kirin under the studio lights and his chest filled with pride. She looked stunning in her tight black skirt, high heels, and flowing blouse. Her hair fanned rich and blond around her shoulders, and she’d applied her makeup perfectly. It was interesting that he’d been implicated in her makeover and the hint that he and Kirin were together, but he was sure she’d handle that fine in the next segment. Just fifteen minutes more and he’d have pulled off one of the greatest image turnarounds in history.

  “Welcome back,” Felicity Farrell was saying. “Today we’re talking to Kirin Hart, one-time member of the hugely successful ‘Cooking with Hart’ husband and wife celebrity chef team, and now a woman bravely going solo after the untimely death of her husband.”

  Felicity swiveled towards Kirin, a ‘going for the kill’ look on her face. “Kirin, you were about to tell us which of the Kirin Harts we’ve seen is the real one. The wholesome, dependable woman we saw as part of the ‘Cooking with Hart’ partnership, or this bombshell we have in front of us now.”

  Kirin dipped her chin, and Blake smiled in anticipation of what she’d say. She’d talk about how free she felt now, how embracing her authentic, sexy, feminine side had finally set her on the path of change and enlightenment. He could just imagine what she was about to say becoming sound bites in the papers and entertainment shows tomorrow.

  “I’m neither of those two people,” Kirin said as she raised her face. “Both of those looks were designed by someone else for a commercial reason, and if I’m to tell you the truth then I really don’t know who I am.”

  His blood ran cold. What in the hell was she doing?

  Sensing a tangent to this story that she wasn’t expecting, or perhaps blood she’d inadvertently let, Felicity leaned forward. “You mean you’ve been influenced by others and what they expect you to act and look like?”

  “That’s right. Just as so many women do in their lives and jobs, I struggle with who I am and how I should present myself. Always have, and probably always will. But I’ve realized I’m okay with that.”

  Blake’s fingers curled around the armrests of his seat. This wasn’t what they’d rehearsed. If she said all the right things now, she could have everything she wanted—a fresh new image and a whole new level of success for her business.

  He leaned forward, hungering to hear more.

  “So, you feel you’ve been easily influenced in your career?”

  Kirin crossed her legs. “That’s exactly what I mean, Felicity. Being a successful chef has been an incredibly rewarding life, but it’s also been extremely hard work. And sometimes within that hard work it’s easy to lose sight of what really matters.”

  Blake watched the people in the audience as they moved forward in their seats. They were captivated by Kirin. Not by her clothes or her new hairdo, but by the increasing passion in her voice.

  “I’ve learned a whole lot of things in just two short weeks,” she said with certainty. “I’ve learned that you can’t choose who you fall in love with, that sometimes it’s not the right person at the right time, but that you need to acknowledge it, embrace it, and move on. I’ve learned that people can protect their deepest hearts for fear of being hurt by those they love, but that you can’t fully open yourself to love until you learn to love yourself.”

  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out and threw a look at the screen. The CEO of Dent and Douglas was calling, and Blake knew exactly what he was going to say, but for a surreal second he didn’t care. All he cared about was watching Kirin and listening to the things that were coming from her heart. He switched the phone off and turned his gaze back to her. How had he not seen any of this coming?

  “Hang on a minute.” Felicity was nearly falling from her chair in a bid to get her next question out. “You’re in love with the man who created this new image for you?”

  Kirin’s chest move
d up and down. “That’s right, but as I said, Felicity, I don’t believe any woman should be judged by her relationships. What I do believe is that the real me isn’t fancy clothes and gorgeous shoes. I’m just a woman who wants to cook food that people love, to enjoy the togetherness of friends and family, and to be around people who love me for me.”

  Blake froze. Loved? He pulled in a breath as his heart slammed against his ribcage. The shock of hearing her so open about her fears and insecurities had been one thing, but to find out along with the rest of the world that . . . she loved him?

  The three words reeled through his mind, and he stared at the stage in disbelief. His lungs squeezed tight as he watched Kirin blink under the studio lights—that beautiful woman who wore her heart so courageously on her sleeve.

  If she loved him, she’d be right back at square one, and so would he.

  And if he loved her?

  His throat closed. The desire to be with her every second of every day warred with his dream to see this project through, to reach the pinnacle he’d dreamed of so long.

  And then words she’d said a moment ago came tumbling back at him. Sometimes it’s not the right person at the right time. Sometimes you need to embrace it and move on. And his heart stopped.

  A woman in front of him started to clap, and then the person next to her joined in, until the entire audience was applauding and rising to their feet.

  Kirin looked startled, as if she’d said those things to herself, not to an audience of thousands. She didn’t smile, didn’t acknowledge the people around her, she just sat staring into the camera and Blake knew he couldn’t get to her quickly enough.

  11

  “I don’t understand.” Blake spoke quietly as he leaned against the wall of the green room and scrubbed a hand across his chin fifteen minutes later. Kirin sat slumped in a hard wooden chair opposite, her heart still thumping, tears threatening at the thought of what she’d done.