by Susan Hatler
The woman made a humming noise, her condescending tone crawling under my skin. “Oh my dear, that’s certainly not possible.”
A weighted feeling settled over my chest. “Why not?”
She stared at me a moment, then reached out to take the bracelet back from me. “The gentleman who designed this bracelet actually died two weeks ago. He was a genius. Now that he’s gone, all of his creations have quadrupled in value. So this bracelet is now worth at least twenty thousand dollars,” she said.
The air whooshed out of my lungs. “But I don’t have that much money.”
Her face softened slightly. “I’m sorry that you have a sentimental attachment to this piece. I wish I could help you, but I’m a businesswoman and this is my livelihood. Here’s my card, though. If you can come up with the money, I’d be happy to sell the bracelet to you if it’s still available.”
Unable to speak, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as I accepted the card from her, then stared at the fancy gold lettering spelling out the name of a well-known jewelry store in downtown Sacramento.
I needed twenty thousand dollars, and there was only one way to get it.
As the woman walked away, taking my precious bracelet with her, I knew what I’d have to do. In order to get Grammy’s bracelet, I’d not only have to date the man who had rejected me, but I’d have to convince a live audience I was in love with him.
Chapter Three
I woke up with a knot in my stomach, last night’s epic debacle bouncing around my brain.
How could I have botched the bracelet bid so badly? Oh, yeah. Trevor Brooks and his vintage Mustang, that’s how. Not only had he messed up my plans but I’d just had a very sexy dream about him—so delicious I had to fight the urge to close my eyes and try for a replay right now.
Oh, man. I needed to snap out of it. In my dream, Trevor had driven me down the California coast to Blue Moon Bay in his vintage Mustang. The windows had been rolled down, my hair whipping around my face as I laughed. Then we’d embraced on the beach, rolling over and over on the sand, tasting each other with kisses I’d felt all over. Shiver.
Hello, subconscious? Are you trying to torment me? The guy already rejected us, and he got three strikes.
Oh, that reminded me. I’d have to call my insurance today and report the car accident. Not exactly the ideal conversation to pump me up to act gaga over Trevor this afternoon, which was when we’d begin filming the first segment of the reality TV special, Romance Revealed.
Last night I’d signed all of the show’s papers giving them permission to film me, or Trevor and me, or whatever. Ginger would totally lecture me if she found out I hadn’t bothered to read the small stack, but I had not been in the mood to read boring legal documents.
Not only had I lost Grammy’s bracelet, but after Chuck handed me the papers to sign, he’d introduced Trevor and me to one of our competing couples, Realtors Chase McDermott and Wendy Watts. And Trevor was way friendlier to Wendy than he was to me, even though I’d paid five grand to date him. So not fair. When I’d pointed this out to Trevor, he said he’d be happy to pay more attention to me if I’d stop telling everyone and their “mother” that I was only dating him by mistake.
Um, was it my fault I’d run into Melinda’s mom and her new husband, and that she’d asked how I was doing?
With a sigh I pushed back the covers and dropped my feet to my bedroom carpet. Hard to believe I was about to embark on a reality TV special with Trevor today. Sure, I loved watching these kinds of shows and I’d fantasized starring in one more than once. But unlike my dream scenarios, there was no chance of me actually winning the hot guy since my dating policy dictated that Trevor had already struck out. Plus, he seemed more interested in “proper procedures” than flirting with me. Whatever.
All I needed to do was win the competition, anyway.
Cringing, I stumbled down the hall to the shower. The spray was cold as I stepped in and I yelped. That was another thing I missed about living with Ginger: the hot water. Yeah, rent with my roommate was cheap, but who had time to wait for the water to heat up?
After the water had frozen the blood in my veins, which sadly did nothing to turn down the heat on my annoying attraction to Trevor, I grabbed a toaster pastry from my kitchen cabinet and
studied the business card the woman from the auction had given me.
I needed to go see Grammy’s bracelet again. That would reinforce my motivation to win this couples competition, even if I did have to fake feelings for Mr. Stuffy. Hopefully the cameras wouldn’t pick up that I had the hots for him. That would be a tad embarrassing.
I stared at the address on the card, recognizing the area in downtown Sac where the jewelry store was located. But I’d never been there before. Too high-end for my tight wallet. I’d asked Melinda to meet me at the store at ten o’clock and it was nearly that time already, so I hurried out the door not even bothering with makeup or taking the time to blow-‐dry my hair.
When I drove by the jewelry store in my Miata, I saw Melinda waiting out front. I waved to her, then parallel parked my car. The storefront was red brick and glass and chrome, which created a stunning modern feel. The store’s fancy monogram was emblazoned on the glass front door, and elegantly arranged sparkling jewelry was displayed in the window cases on either side.
Melinda let out a low whistle as I stepped out of the car. I groaned. Even she could see how out of place I was at this shop. It was hard to believe Grammy’s bracelet was here, vulnerable to any rich woman’s whim. I wanted to cry.
“Good morning, Mary Ann.” Melinda gave me a long hug, seeming to sense how nervous I was feeling. “You doing all right?”
I sniffed, then slipped my arm through hers. “I’ve definitely been better.”
She patted my arm. “I’m sorry again about the mix-up. Maybe you’ll win this competition, claim your prize money, and the bracelet will be yours by next week.”
“I’m so crossing fingers,” I said, trying to stay positive as I stepped inside. Several sales people greeted us when we entered the plush store.
The interior was decorated in opulent jeweled tones, which was an interesting contrast to the way the store presented itself outside, and yet . . . it totally worked.
I could almost feel the building telling me that I didn’t belong, that I’d never understand what it meant to have money, and that it could chew me up and spit me out at any point. I shuddered, hoping I was wrong.
Melinda wandered over to a counter display that held gold and green earrings. She leaned over the case, and tapped a nail over an emerald earrings and necklace set. “Those are gorgeous.”
I eyed the green gems, but felt no excitement. Not good. If I couldn’t even enjoy window-shopping, I’d certainly reached a new low.
A distinguished-looking man with graying temples hurried over to us, wearing a smile.
“Those are Mendoza’s finest work. Would you like to try them on?”
“No, thank you.” I shook my head, feeling lame that I had no idea who this Mendoza person was. “I actually need to speak with the owner. She and I met last night to discuss a certain bracelet. Could you get her for me, please?”
“Right away.” The man nodded, then disappeared into the back of the shop.
My stomach twisted. I had to change the owner’s mind about holding Grammy’s bracelet for me for a week, to give me time to win the competition and get the prize money.
Thinking of the competition, an image of Trevor popped into my mind. The way his dark hair complimented his serious-looking but sexy blue-gray eyes. And the way he’d held and kissed me on the beach in my dream. I shivered, then hated myself for shivering. That annoying man might be totally gorgeous, but he was a pill. Not for me.
“So, how’s your new job going?” Melinda asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I dismissed the imaginary picture of Trevor and me on the sand from my mind, then wrinkled my nose. “Work is positively and absolutely dr
eadful.”
“Oh, no. Is the boss’s lazy nephew still bugging you?”
“Elliott is basically a heinous traitor.” My voice was probably a wee bit too loud, since the other salesperson and her customer turned in my direction. Oops.
Melinda raised a brow. “Wow. What did he do now?”
I turned my back to the salesperson and her client, my stomach coiling as I thought of Elliott.
“He told my boss that he put together the neighborhood watch program even though he knows very well that I’m the one who coordinated that project. And, of course, she believed him.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying she thinks he walks on air.” Melinda knitted her brows. “Why don’t you tell her that you’re the one who put the program together? Call him on his lie.”
I sighed, hardly able to believe I’d gotten myself into such a mess. “Because I haven’t told you the worst part. Literally minutes before he took credit for my work, she’d asked me how I thought he was working out at the office and I . . .” I closed my eyes, then let my breath out slowly. “I raved on about what a great job he’s been doing.”
She shook her head, looking stunned. “Why would you say that?”
I leaned against the counter, and placed my hands on my cheeks. “She loves her nephew and I just wanted her to feel good. Obviously a stupid move on my part, but I didn’t know he’d lie and take credit for my work. Now she wouldn’t believe me even if I told the truth.”
“You can’t let him get away with that, though.” Melinda frowned for a second, then she brightened. “You must’ve exchanged emails with the police department or whoever you worked with to put together the neighborhood watch program, right? If your boss doesn’t believe you then you can show her the evidence.”
“Yeah, but then she’ll know I lied about how great he is. Plus, I was eavesdropping when I overheard their conversation.” My throat tightened, remembering back to that awful day when I was seven, had done something I wasn’t supposed to, then suffered the consequences. I’d never told anyone about that day, but now I longed to let out my guilt. Looking at my friend, I swallowed. “When I do something bad, it feels like—”
“May I help you?” asked a cool, female voice, cutting me off.
I glanced up, recognizing the woman from the auction who owned this posh jewelry store.
My hands shook at my sides, but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe from what I’d almost admitted to my friend or because I needed Grammy’s bracelet so badly. Probably both.
“H-hi. Do you remember me from the auction?” I asked, hating the sound of desperation in my voice.
“Oh, yes.” The corners of her mouth curved upward, and she motioned for us to follow her across the store where she gestured to a glass display case. “I imagine you’ve come to purchase this bracelet by Arthur Arrington. I’m glad you came in right away. There are a limited number of his pieces available and I’m sure this would sell quickly.”
My stomach lurched as the urgency to claim the precious bracelet rose a notch. I glanced into the display case and my gaze latched onto the gold, ruby, and diamond bracelet displayed on a velvet holder. My heart stopped as I stared at Grammy’s bracelet, which was literally within my reach. Well, if I had the key anyway.
“It’s gorgeous.” Melinda’s arm brushed mine as she peered down, her blonde hair falling forward revealing a purple lock of hair. She used to be so stuffy about the way she looked—I
was glad she’d added a bit of fun.
“I know.” My eyes watered. I blinked the tears back and turned my attention to the owner, hoping the woman had a shred of mercy in her. “I really need you to hold the bracelet for me until the end of the week. There’s this reality TV competition I’m in, which airs next week, and I’ll win the twenty thousand dollars to pay for the bracelet then.”
The corners of the woman’s mouth turned downward. “I’m sorry, but it’s quite impossible for me to hold this item for you. And the bracelet is actually priced at twenty-two thousand.”
“Oh, come on,” I blurted, gesturing toward the display case. “You just bought it for five grand yesterday. This bracelet belonged to my grandmother, and it means the world to me. Have a heart. Didn’t you have a grandma you adored while you were growing up?”
The woman’s frown deepened. “Actually my grandmother used to lock me in the closet when I misbehaved. So I wasn’t fond of her, no.”
Ouch. Bonding over beloved grandmothers was out. I decided to try a different tactic. “What about that one special lovey that you held on to when you were scared? Didn’t you have one of those?”
The muscle on her temple twitched. “My father burned my teddy bear when I was six because they were afraid it contained germs from a highly contagious illness I had contracted.
Actually, he burned most of my toys that day. After that experience I learned to rely on myself for comfort.”
“But if you could have that teddy bear back—” I started, then nearly jumped at the way her eyes darkened. Okay, emotion was not going to work with her either. Time to beg. “Please.” I laced my fingers together, squeezing my hands in prayer position so hard that it hurt. “It’s just for a week. You can always sell the bracelet if I’m not back to claim it, so you have nothing to lose. I just need a little time.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “As I’ve already told you, I simply can’t hold jewelry. This is a jewelry store not a pawn shop. This bracelet is incredibly valuable now that the artist has passed away, and I’m not going to miss the opportunity of a sale just for sentimentality. Good day, ladies.”
I watched with a growing feeling of dread as the shop owner walked away.
“Come on.” Melinda gently pulled on my elbow. “Let’s go. You need to get ready for the show.”
Letting her lead me out of the store, I knew with absolute certainty that winning the competition was the only way to get Grammy’s bracelet back. Too bad I had to partner with the most handsome dud on the planet to win.
****
I couldn’t believe that I was going to have a starring role on the reality TV special, Romance Revealed. I understood the premise now—five couples, comprised of five men who had agreed to be auctioned off at different charity events and five women who had bid on them, competed against each other in front of the cameras for the chance to win fifty thousand dollars.
Even though I felt like a complete fraud participating in this show knowing full well no romance would be revealed in my case (wah!), my half of the prize money would be enough to buy Grammy’s bracelet—assuming it was still at that stingy woman’s jewelry store a week from now. I had to believe it would be there, though. The thought of Grammy’s special bracelet being sold off to a stranger filled me with angst.
I absolutely had to win this competition.
Voices clamored across the empty parking lot where we’d be filming shortly. All five of us couples had been prepped in makeup and hair, and the makeup girl had been flirting shamelessly with Trevor. Um, hello? He’s here as my date, lady. A fake date, sure, but she didn’t know our growing love was a sham. That’s why I didn’t feel bad shooting her lasers with my eyes until she backed off. We now stood next to our partners at the edge of the lot waiting for the next instructions.
“I’m your host, Brandon Baker!” A handsome man wearing a suit clapped his hands over his head twice. He looked friendly enough and had the voice of a game show host. “We go live in ten! Just relax for a few.”
Relax? So not going to happen with a gazillion camera lenses pointing in my direction. I glanced sideways at Trevor. If he felt nervous at all, he was certainly doing a good job hiding it.
My gaze traveled to the collared button-up shirt stretching across his broad chest. Mr. Stuffy had shown up in a black tie over a gray shirt. Could you get any more boring?
I seriously hated how he could even make monochromatic look hot.
Trevor looked down at me, so I forced my gaze away and decided to size up my—er,
our—competition. Wendy and Chase, the Realtors we’d already been introduced to, were freakishly in sync with one another. They both held their cell phones in their left hands and ran their right index fingers across their respective screens.
Mike and Maggie, who we’d only met ten minutes ago, would probably make a sweet couple (read: actual competition) if only they were able to actually look at each other. Can you say awkward first date?
Jared and Sharon looked like they could hardly stand each other. He was frowning in her direction. She was turned away from him with her arms crossed. Pretty fast for a lovers quarrel.
Ross and Evie were the couple that worried me most. They both had this intense demeanor and appeared as though they were here to win. To tell the truth, they actually looked a little scary like they’d come from the wrong side of the tracks, ready for a rumble. It wouldn’t shock me if Evie was packing heat. There was even a strange bulge in the back of her shirt and jeans that seriously might be a gun. I got that my imagination was probably running wild, but still, I didn’t want to find out.
I scanned the set, which was arranged to look like a miniature forest. Trees ringed the perimeter, denser in some places than in others. On the other side of the “field” there was some sort of structure that I was pretty sure was supposed to be an abandoned house.
“You look nervous.” Trevor nudged me with his elbow.
Shivers ran up my arm, and I swallowed. “I want to win.”
He kept his gaze on mine as an unreadable expression crossed his chiseled face. “Me too,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.
My belly fluttered as those two words vibrated through me. I reminded myself that he’d already struck out so this would only be a pretend infatuation, then I laced my arm through his.
