Rumor Has It

  Real Love: Fame & Fortune

  Book 4

  Jessica Lemmon

  Rumor Has It is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Jessica Lemmon

  Excerpt from America’s Sweetheart by Jessica Lemmon copyright © 2018 by Jessica Lemmon

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Lemmon Ink

  Cover design & concept by Jessica Lemmon

  jessicalemmon.com

  Praise

  “[Jessica] Lemmon delivers purely delicious fun in this lighthearted contemporary. . . . Hot interludes and a Cinderella-worthy ending ensure this story will capture hearts.” —Publishers Weekly

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  “[Lemmon] turns up the friction. . . . [An] ‘opposites attract’ romantic comedy, in which their relationship blossoms after both sides learn that a public persona often hides a more complicated individual.” —Library Journal

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  “No one writes big-hearted bad boys like Jessica Lemmon! Rumor Has It is laugh-out-loud fun.” —Lori Foster, New York Times Bestseller

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  “My new favorite Jessica Lemmon book—contemporary romance perfection, with just the right amount of witty banter and stomach-flip romantic moments, plus some seriously hot scenes.” —New York Times bestselling author Lauren Layne

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  “RUMOR HAS IT is fresh, fun, and flirty—a must read!” —New York Times Bestseller, Melissa Foster

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  “Barrett Fox is the perfect bad boy with a golden heart. (Among other things.) I loved this book!” —New York Times Bestseller Gina L. Maxwell

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  “Meet your newest book boyfriend and bestie! Rumor Has It is charming, fun, and downright hilarious.” —Serena Bell, USA Today bestselling author

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  “The best kind of romantic comedy, with charming characters and whip-smart dialogue.” —USA Today Bestselling Author Tawna Fenske

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  “A delightful book! I loved every moment. If you like witty banter, romance that sparks, and enemies-to-lovers stories, then this book is for you!” —USA Today bestselling author Kathy Lyons

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  “[Rumor Has It] is fun, enthralling and I really enjoyed this couple’s journey to happily ever after.” —Harlequin Junkie (Top Pick)

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  “This story was the whole package…a romcom with a little bit of seriousness and a whole lot of love.” —Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews (five stars)

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  “Opposites attract in this fun and flirty gem! Jessica Lemmon has outdone herself with this one.” —Thoughts of a Blonde (five stars)

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  “I loved this book! It’s refreshingly original, laugh-out-loud funny, and left me wanting more.” —Wicked Reads (five stars)

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  “Rumor Has It uses the rich, good girl and poor, bad boy trope to full effect. I would love to see what the future holds for Catarina and Barrett.” —Book Angel Booktopia

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  “This book was a lot of fun…I recommend it if you enjoy contemporary romance. Heads-up: this is verrrry sexy.” —Simply Alexandra

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  “This is the first book that I have read by Jessica [Lemmon] and I have to say that I really enjoyed this book! She definitely gave me some laughs, some great convos between characters, and some great sexual tension between the two main characters.” —Lattes & Paperbacks

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  “This was such a good read! The characters were well written, likable, and their conversations consisted of a highly entertaining back-and-forth banter. Barrett and Catarina’s relationship was off the charts sexy and is not to be missed!” —Nightbird Novels

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  “Jessica Lemmon does a wonderful job writing a delicious story with great lines and unforgettable characters. I enjoyed every minute of this witty, flirty story filled with banter and sarcastic remarks.” —Cocktails & Books

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  “I loved this book. Catarina and Barrett’s relationship was amusing and so enjoyable to read…Rumor Has It would be a great book to take to the beach or wherever you’re relaxing this summer.” —A Novel Glimpse

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  “This book was sparks galore from almost word one. The very sexy characters banter well. The book has a great pace and lots of heat to keep one turning the page.” —Kitty’s Book Spot

  Contents

  Chapter 0

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Acknowledgments

  America’s Sweetheart - Excerpt

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Lemmon

  Chapter 0

  Present Day

  Barrett

  The girl sitting across from me crying, that’s Beth. Her smooth, walnut-colored skin is half thanks to her Filipino father, the other half her Hawaiian mother. We’ve split up nearly a dozen times over the course of the last six years, the last time for good.

  I hand her my napkin and she dabs at the tears streaking her cheeks. The massive diamond solitaire on her left ring finger is the one she said she always wanted, but it’s not from me.

  “That’s the biggest rock I’ve ever seen. Bigger in person than in a magazine photo,” I say.

  It is, which is unbelievable. She smiles sadly down at the ring. I take her hand—a hand I’ve held a million times in the past. A hand that has cracked across my face twice that I remember. She’s left-handed. Both times I’d earned those slaps. I rub my thumb over the diamond and then let her fingers go.

  She’s not mine anymore. I’m not sad about it. It was headed there from the beginning, but both Beth and I had a serious case of “warm body” syndrome. Love the one you’re with and all that.

  She sniffs and dabs at her eyes again. The café is pretty dead. Either the three people in here aren’t paying attention to us or have noticed and are being polite. Anyway, Beth isn’t a drama queen, so she’s not doing this for attention. She’s the stable one. The part of unhinged, irrational asshole has always been played by me.

  “I’m scared.” Her tears are dry, her eyes on mine.

  “Of getting married?”

  She shakes her head, tucking her sleek black hair behind her ears. “Of ruining a marriage. You and I never figured it out, and we were together for almost six years.”

  I tip my coffee mug and study the cooling black liquid for answers. They’re not there. I typically go with my gut, but at the moment my guts—along with my chest cavity—feel as if they’ve been scooped out. I don’t do heartbreak. Each and every time Beth and I bit the dust, or “took a break,” I began dating immediately. I was plenty okay with a one-night-stand that acted as a Band-Aid, and, not to sound like a dick, but there was always a woman around willing to patch me up.

  This time my heartbreak can’t be credited to Beth, but to a woman by the name of Catarina. I haven’t so much as glanced at another woman—no Band-Aids for me—until this meeting with Beth. And I only showed up when she asked because, of all the roles we’ve played in each other’s lives, “friends” was the most legit.

  “I mean this with sincerity.” I set my mug aside. “It wasn’t you. Ever. It was always me.”

  This brings a sweet smile to her face. The one that dazzled me during my junior year at The Ohio State University. She was a cheerleader, and I was smitten so fast my head literally spun. We’ve been through a ton together. College. My being drafted for the NFL. Surgeries that were futile attempts at repairing a torn rotator cuff that took me away from the game. Us living in Miami. Living in Columbus. Us splitting up.

  “It wasn’t all you, Bare.” She consoles me with her right hand. I wonder if she does it on purpose so as not to flaunt her new ring from her new beau. I wouldn’t feel slighted though. She deserves to be happy.

  Bare is short for Barrett, by the way. Last name Fox. I have copper-colored hair like the aforementioned woodland creature, but with more brown than red. Still doesn’t keep the girls from referring to me as a “ginger,” which I used to mind until I realized how much tail it got me.

  God. I’m a moron.

  “Mostly it was my fault. Is my fault,” I correct.

  A few months ago, I ran into Beth at this very café. She was ordering a coffee. I was picking up lunch. I mentioned that I met someone and she was hurt and happy at the same time. I knew how she felt. I felt the same way when she told me about Mark.

  Now I suck in a breath and tell her the abbreviated, updated version of my rela
tionship status. “I fucked things up with Catarina.”

  “What? No.” Beth reaches across the table and grips my hand, comforting me when it should be the other way around.

  Told you I was an asshole.

  “What happened?” she asks.

  So many things. Mostly, it was me being me.

  “Where to start?” I let out a humorless laugh and then decide that the beginning makes the most sense.

  So, that’s where I start.

  Chapter 1

  Where it Started

  Catarina

  To keep from becoming antiquated, the Columbus Dispatch newspaper split into two parts five years ago. The Dispatch still “dispatches” print newspapers—the kind that line the bottoms of canary cages for our more senior readers—but its online presence has been growing steadily over those five years, thanks in part to new blood in the office.

  Thanks, mostly, to me.

  Columbus Community Chat, or the Chat if you’re an insider, is the online version of the Dispatch. Some of the articles I write also run in the actual printed paper, which is fun to see. Even though “seeing it” requires me to flip waaaay back to the relationships section of which I’m in charge.

  Before you accuse me of writing “fluff”, let me assure you, I know my strengths. Much as I’d like to aspire to landing on the front page of the Dispatch, unless Ryan Reynolds becomes our next president, chances are it’s not going to happen.

  I don’t attempt any feat that I’m not sure of achieving one hundred percent. That includes jobs, relationships, and every other nook and cranny of my highly organized life.

  Mia Blakely, my boss, stumbles into our weekly meeting in her usual manner. Her curly hair is barely tamed, a pencil is jutting out of the brown locks just over one ear, and her brown skirt/peach blouse combo is outdated, though, honestly, not that bad. I’m not being unkind—just stating the facts. Mia doesn’t care about the latest trends or fads. What she does care about, and what she does best, is run this office, manage this newspaper, and keep her journalists paid. She’s entrusted me with more large assignments than she has anyone else who writes for the Chat, and for that I’ll owe her my firstborn son.

  “Good afternoon, kids.” Mia eyeballs us over a pair of glasses with half lenses. She flips through a few scribbled-on sheets in her yellow legal pad, finds our agenda, and sits.

  Megan, a young and plucky intern, dutifully places a mug of coffee at our boss’s right hand. Mia nods her thanks.

  While Mia recaps the assignments for this summer, I jot notes into my planner—a black and white beauty with thick, luxurious paper and a posh striped cover—with a black gel pen, appreciating the precision of my handwriting in the “notes” section for June.

  I can’t believe it’s June already. Seems like only yesterday I was huddling over the space heater under my desk in an attempt to ward off Columbus’s winter chill, which has the naughty habit of creeping through the walls of this very building.

  “The last order of business is Catarina.” Mia smiles and peeks over her glasses again. I smile back. “I’m changing your ‘Fun in the Sun’ column this year to something more focused on relationships. A personal relationship. Your. Personal relationship.”

  I rarely blush, but I can feel heat work its way from the placket of my white blouse to my neck. I place a hand to my cheek and press my lips together. All of my fellow co-workers’ eyes are on me.

  “Oh?” It’s the only word I’m capable of at the moment.

  “Dating in Summer. Summer Fling. Fling into Summer.” She makes a “help me out” motion with her hand, and our writing staff begins scrawling furiously on their notepads in an attempt to come up with an idea she might like.

  Carla’s suggestion of “Sex in the Summer” quiets the entire boardroom.

  “That. I like.” Mia sends me a saucy wink, and I bristle. “Sadly, we can’t pimp out poor Catarina.”

  “Your Sexiest Summer Ever,” Adam blurts.

  “Yes, but no,” Mia says. “Catarina isn’t being assigned a self-improvement article. She’s going to date a bad boy and tell our readership about it. In detail.”

  I make a choking noise and force out a laugh. “Mia, with all due respect to my boyfriend, North isn’t exactly a bad boy.”

  What an exaggeration. Northrop Phillips, III, is as far from a bad boy as you can get. He’s a country club guy who loves golf and finance in equal measures. He’s the perfect pick for a partner, and that’s why I picked him. One hundred percent in everything, remember?

  “Not North, Catarina. I’ve scouted a bad boy especially for this occasion.” The gasps around the table suck the oxygen from the room.

  “I thought you weren’t pimping me out,” I reply carefully.

  “You don’t have to have a physical relationship with the guy.” Mia leafs through her papers again. “But you do have to pretend date him and write about it. We want our readership living vicariously through you. Think of it as an acting role.”

  I blink at her. A heads-up that she wants me to “pretend” date someone before our staff meeting would’ve been nice. Then again she knows I’d have said no.

  “Your cohort will be writing from his own POV on what it’s like to be the bad boy now committed to dating. It’s a dash of fiction, a dash of romance, and a dash of what you’re best at writing: relationships.”

  “Who is it?” Nanci asks, excitement rounding her blue eyes. I’m not there yet. I’m still in shock.

  “Me,” a rough voice announces from the doorway behind me.

  I turn my head to look over my shoulder, stunned further into silence by the sheer attractiveness of the man standing there. He’s so good-looking it’s criminal. But then, he is—

  “Barrett Fox!” Nanci says and then bursts into a series of nervous giggles.

  “In the flesh.” He bends at the waist to place a kiss on Mia’s temple. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “I’d expect no less,” Mia says with a smile that—yeah, is a little gooey. She bats her unmascaraed lashes while she’s at it.

  Who knew my boss had a sexual bone in her body? I thought she was made of steel beams and asbestos.

  Everyone at the conference room table, save me, stands as one and moves to Barrett Fox like he has his own orbit. Mia shushes the chatter around us.

  “Okay, all right. Now that you all have your assignments, let’s leave Barrett and Catarina to theirs.” She makes a shooing motion, and everyone shuffles reluctantly out the door.

  I slide a derisive glance to my new “co-worker” and wonder what I did to Mia to make her stick me with this assignment. Except I know exactly why she did it. My boss’s work ethic can be described in two words: bottom line. She knows a prime opportunity to bring money to this paper when she sees it.

  She flips to another sheet in her yellow pad before ripping it out and laying it in front of me.

  “I’ll let you hash out the details.” Before she shuts the door, she adds, “Barrett. You know where to find me.”

  “Sure do, doll.” He winks, then takes her chair at the head of the table, going as far as leaning back and kicking up his feet on the table.