Ugh! She'd been so freaked out when he came up to her in the cafe. He'd pulled up a chair without waiting to be invited, turned on that megawatt grin and informed her that he knew – despite her never having told him – that she was writing an article about his dad. There was a reason she hadn't told him: nothing got published about Archer Goldenhawk II, he had the kind of nonexistent digital footprint that (it had seemed) could only be achieved by buying off reporters or or threatening them into silence. Rosario had spent the next two weeks waiting for the cease and desist to drop down on her head. She'd half expected an irate call from somebody at the financial aid office telling her she'd breached some fine-print term of the scholarship by pissing off a major donor. Of course she'd been freaking cagey! What had he been expecting?! That he was gonna flash her a smile and she'd fold like a wet taco?
Probably worked for him more often than not, she realised grumpily. Apollo was good-looking and magnetic and, most importantly, rich. Guy like that, most people'd be only too happy to give him what he wanted on the off-chance that he'd notice them or remember them or pass on their name to the right person. Ugh again.
Rosario sighed, a sigh of resignation this time. "Fine," she said without enthusiasm. "Tell me 'bout you, then."