Nuptials in Nevada
An At the Altar Story
Keira K. Barton
Contents
Keira K. Barton
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Also by Keira K. Barton
About the Author
Copyright © 2018 by Keira K. Barton
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
[email protected]
www.keirakbarton.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination.. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Erin Dameron Hill/EDH Graphics
Edited by Tristi Pinkston
Printed in the United States of America.
First printing edition 2018.
Created with Vellum
Scarlett Heston is disenchanted with her life in Hollywood. Her agent and her parents are all too involved in her acting career, and she longs for a real connection with a man—not one driven by money and greed. When Scarlett meets Dr. Lachele Simpson on Timmy Callen’s talk show, she hopes that signing up for Matchrimony will be her way out of a life she’s never wanted.
Beau Lawrence doesn’t even flinch getting on the back of a bull, but he wouldn’t be caught dead talking to any of the girls who want his attention after a rodeo. Beau has always chosen his bull riding career over his relationships, and he doesn’t see that changing anytime soon. When Beau’s friend Josh convinces him that he won’t ever be happy alone, he decides to take a chance and let Dr. Lachele find a match for him. Will Scarlett be able to accept Beau’s cowboy lifestyle? Or will the man she met at the altar make her wish she’d never left LA?
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Keira K. Barton
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For Tristi, thank you for your constant encouragement.
You always help me reach for more.
One
Drops of rain slid down the windowpane as Scarlett Heston looked out her bedroom window. It was early spring, and the lawn was the bright green color of new life that faded all too quickly as temperatures rose. The traffic would be horrible today—no one knew how to drive in the rain in LA.
The traffic. It was just one thing on a long list of things Scarlett had begun to hate about living in Hollywood. She had been born and raised here. Her parents—both actors-turned-directors—were still A-list celebrities, and she was a Hollywood legacy. A shudder ran through her. She hated that title.
Scarlett had refused to act as a child, despite her parents’ urging. She was just too shy to feel comfortable in front of a camera. As she entered her teens, she’d reluctantly agreed to television only. She might have hated being famous all her life, but that couldn’t extinguish her love of acting. Now, she was nearing thirty, with a few successful series under her belt, and even her love of acting was starting to fade. She was proud of her career, but her parents couldn’t stand her contentment with the small screen—they’d always had bigger dreams for her.
And apparently, so did her agent. She’d spent the better part of her morning trying to tune out his voice on the phone as he blabbed on and on about her needing to consider a few auditions for roles in several upcoming movies—no doubt movies he’d be paid handsomely for if she were cast.
“And don’t do something stupid today and miss your talk show appearance. You do remember you had that scheduled for this morning, right?” Zero tact. It was like the man was intentionally trying to irritate her every time they spoke.
“Yes, I’ll be there.” Scarlett tried to keep her tone cordial, but in reality, her blood was boiling.
“I just don’t want to hear any excuses about missing this appearance. Last time it was the weather, and before that, you said you ‘just didn’t feel up to it.’ I can’t keep having you cancel on me, Scarlett. It’s a big deal. It’s getting harder and harder to book you on shows. People want someone who’s reliable.”
No, people want a paycheck, Scarlett thought as she rolled her eyes. Her agent’s voice was so condescending. She didn’t know how much longer she could stay on the phone.
“I understand. Don’t worry. Like I said, I’ll be there.” Scarlett had to enunciate each word carefully so she didn’t give away her annoyance. It wasn’t easy to sound happy when she felt like she was getting scolded like a child. The last thing she needed to hear was how she’d let him down. He was lucky she hadn’t terminated their contract after the stunts he’d pulled over the years.
“I don’t think you understand how crucial it is for you to keep up good relationships with important people in this city. Your career depends on it.”
And so does yours. “You’re right.” Scarlett knew that was all Greg wanted to hear from her. A little praise went a long way with the man on the other line. He was the most narcissistic person she had ever met, and she couldn’t wait for their contract to expire. It would come as a really big shock to him when she decided not to renew it. Scumbag.
“I’m glad you can see that. I’m just here to help.”
Scarlett wanted to barf. If by “help,” he meant he wanted to exploit her name to get new clients who he could screw over, then sure, he was “just here to help.” Her skin crawled, thinking of the conversations she’d had with up-and-coming actresses who had fallen victim to his schemes.
“I appreciate all you do, Greg. I need to go. I’ll have to leave soon if I’m going to make it. I don’t want to disappoint you again and miss the show.” She couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice that time. Luckily, he was so dense, he would never pick up on it.
“You’re welcome, Scarlett. You’re always my number-one priority.” Greg’s caring tone was so forced, it made her sick. He didn’t care about anyone but himself.
She couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say “you’re welcome.” Who is this guy? It was a good thing the conversation was almost over. Scarlett wouldn’t be able to hide her disgust much longer.
After forcing out a polite goodbye through her gritted teeth, Scarlett hung up the phone and let out a huge breath. She hadn’t realized that her breathing had been so shallow and pinched that entire time. She couldn’t wait to wash her hands of Greg, the slimy snake.
She’d taken a chance on having him as her agent when she’d started her career. He was new, and therefore, his reputation didn’t reflect the monster he was until it was too late. He’d gotten her some pretty good roles over the years, so she had put up with him, but his behavior had just gotten worse.
Like everything else in my life, she thought. She pushed off the window ledge where she’d been leaning and turned around. Her bedroo
m was large, and there was a California king centered on the wall in front of her. She smiled as her eyes moved over a favorite painting hanging on the wall opposite her. That was one thing she was grateful to her parents for—helping her appreciate art.
Scarlett sighed and walked to her closet. She’d better get ready for the all-important talk show appearance. She loathed them, but the contract her agent had negotiated for her latest role required at least four appearances per season. She flipped through her dresses, finally landing on a white cotton one perfect for spring. Her silky robe felt smooth on her skin as she slipped it off and stepped into the dress she’d picked out, her relationship with her parents, and how strained it had always been, still on her mind.
She did love them. After all, they had given her everything. Every opportunity she’d had, especially the ones that had launched her career, were all orchestrated by them. That wasn’t lost on her, but they were just so materialistic. She looked at the clothes and shoes that lined her large closet before she flicked off the light and thought about how modest it seemed compared to her mother’s. She walked out of her room and down the hall. Everything was about money and fame for them, and that just wasn’t the kind of life she wanted. She loved acting, but it didn’t consume her the way it did her parents.
There’s more to life than this, isn’t there? She stood at the top of the stairs looking out over the main floor of her house. The thought seemed to echo in the stillness, and in the empty chambers of her heart. She couldn’t help but wonder what her life would be like if her parents weren’t so consumed by their careers. Would I have a sibling? Would I be closer to them? Both questions seemed to highlight their failure to put family first, and to help her recognize the love she had been craving since she was a little girl.
The gray skies and rain-covered windows cast an eerie light into her usually sunny kitchen, adding a cold edge to the loneliness that already ached within her. She rushed down the stairs to make some coffee before she had to leave. There was nothing she wanted more than something warm to drink on this dreary day.
Scarlett’s mind wandered as she worked, and she found herself daydreaming of being cuddled up with a handsome man who loved her. On rainy days like this, would they drink their coffee together, snuggled in blankets on the couch? Would they make breakfast, then watch old movies all day as the rain drizzled? Her heart ached for a life with someone she could count on to be there on rainy days. All she wanted was to fall in love—to be with someone who occupied her thoughts constantly, knowing that he was thinking of her too.
Right now, the only person she saw regularly—besides her fellow cast members at the studio—was her housekeeper, Aldona, and she wouldn’t be coming by until Thursday. How pathetic am I? The thought wasn’t a new one. Scarlett had been wondering if she would ever find any type of companionship in her current situation. Her friends tried to set her up all the time, but she was too worried that the guy would only want to be with her for her money or her connections, and she couldn’t trust anyone enough to say yes. She’d learned her lesson about trusting people with her heart, and she had learned it the hard way. Not everyone’s intentions were as noble as they might first appear to be.
The glowing clock on the microwave grabbed her attention. It was already after eight. She needed to get going. When the coffee was done brewing, she poured it into a travel cup and added creamer. Then she grabbed her purse, keys, and phone. Good thing they do makeup on set, she thought as she headed out the garage door.
The rain didn’t let up at all during her drive, and she had been right—the traffic was horrible, but she still made it right on time for hair and makeup. She might loathe appearances on talk shows, but it was always nice to have other people get her ready.
“Good to see you, Miss Heston. Please, sit.” The friendly blonde woman who welcomed her as she entered her dressing room pointed to a swiveling black chair in front of a mirrored vanity.
Scarlett watched the filming of the first guest’s interview—which was already in progress—on a screen mounted to the wall while she was primped and prepped by the makeup and hair crew.
“So, to what do you attribute your success? I’ve heard you have a one-hundred-percent success rate with your matches so far. That’s pretty impressive.” Timmy Callen, the host of the show, seemed genuinely curious. But what “matches” was he talking about?
The purple-haired woman sitting in the guest chair smiled broadly. “That’s right, Timmy. I really attribute my success to my vetting process. All of my potential clients undergo an eight-hour interview. I personally test them with questions I have developed over the last few years as a matchmaker, and I use tactics I learned as a professional psychologist.”
“That’s right. I see here that you have a PhD from NYU in relational psychology,” he said, looking at his notes. “So, does everyone who signs up for Matchrimony get matched, then?”
“The majority do, eventually. There are some applicants who are not qualified for a match by me, and I have to turn down their applications. But for the most part, when people apply, I do my best to help them find the person who will make them happy for the rest of their lives.” The doctor’s smile hadn’t faded at all since Scarlett started watching, and she was surprised that even through the screen, she trusted her.
“What keeps you from getting flooded with applications you can’t keep up with? I’m sure there are a lot of single people out there looking for love.” Timmy took a sip of his coffee, or whatever was in his dark mug, as he waited for her answer.
The woman, although she looked to be in her fifties, was beautiful, and her purple hair only added to her charm. “Well, there’s the cost—that narrows it down some. But really, you’d be surprised how many people fear the unknown. It takes a special person to put the fate of the rest of their lives in my hands, despite my success rate.”
“That makes sense. I can see why people might be slightly hesitant,” Timmy said with a laugh. “All right, folks, we have a commercial break coming up. We’ll be back with Dr. Lachele Simpson, the owner of Matchrimony—a dating service where her clients meet at the altar!”
The music played to take them to a commercial, and Scarlett stared at the blank screen, her mind racing. Maybe this is what I have been looking for. Dr. Simpson could set me up with someone who hasn’t even heard of me, and I will finally be able to escape La La Land. The thoughts scared her, but only a little. The most disturbing thing was that she somehow already trusted Dr. Lachele to set her up more than she trusted her own friends. She didn’t know what it was about this purple-haired woman, but something inside Scarlett was telling her that she needed the doctor’s help if she really wanted to find the man of her dreams. I’m crazy, she thought. But it didn’t stop her from trying to figure out if this could really work.
The contract for her show would be fulfilled after this appearance—they had just filmed the series finale—and she hadn’t lined up anything new yet. She’d planned to take a few months off until she found a new project, but maybe those few months would be an indefinite leave of absence. Heaven knew she had plenty of money saved, especially if she lived a simpler life away from here.
Her heart started to pound at the thought. Her blood rushed through her body and throbbed in her ears. Could she really leave her home and career in LA? And not only leave, but leave without a plan, or any knowledge of where she would be going or who she would be marrying? Her throat tightened.
I’m going to do this. The thought had to squeeze through the constricting doubt that was seeping into her mind, but she was intent on making a change. She had never lacked determination. In fact, she had always been accused of being stubborn—especially by her parents. When she made up her mind, it was almost impossible to change her course.
The woman who had been putting the finishing touches on her face turned Scarlett’s chair around to face the mirror. Scarlett could see the conviction in her own brown eyes, and she smiled confidently. Her plan was se
t, and there was no going back.
“All done!” the woman said with a smile—probably assuming that Scarlett’s was due to her appearance.
“Oh, thank you,” Scarlett said half-heartedly—she was still preoccupied with her fresh plans.
When the woman walked out of the dressing room, Scarlett would be left alone for a few moments before they’d call her onstage after the next commercial break. I need to let Dr. Lachele know my intentions now, in case I change my mind. She scrambled across the room to her purse and started riffling through it. When she couldn’t find what she wanted, she turned it upside down and dumped its contents all over the floor. There, she easily spotted the pen and pad of sticky notes she had been searching for. She rushed back over to the vanity and hurriedly jotted down a quick message.
She tore the note away from the pad and began to fold it just as she heard a knock at the door.
“Miss Heston, your cue is coming in less than one minute. Please follow me to the stage.” The voice was authoritative, but not demanding. She quickly finished folding the note so it was tiny enough to fit discreetly in the palm of her hand, then walked out of her room and followed the short man, who was dressed in black, to the edge of the stage just beyond the camera’s view.
“And now, I’m thrilled to announce our next guest, the star of the hit series, Thrones of the Kingdom. Please welcome Scarlett Heston!” Timmy stood and clapped along with the crowd as she walked across the stage to shake his hand, the note to Dr. Simpson still tucked safely between her thumb and palm.
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