by Vi Keeland
I nod. The monitor I’ve been halfheartedly watching pans to focus on Kate. Joel keeps talking, not realizing he’s lost my attention. Kate looks beautiful, all dressed up in a pale blue gown that shows off the tan she deepened while playing in the pool today. My moment of joy is quickly replaced by an ache in my chest as Flynn Beckham walks to where she’s standing alone outside on the deck. The lighting from the sun beginning to set creates a romantic backdrop.
“Pull in on three,” Joel yells into a headset. I watch as the camera pans in on the couple.
“Wow. I didn’t think you could look more beautiful than you did today in the pool.” Flynn takes Kate’s hand. She looks down at their joined hand as he twines his fingers with hers.
Kate smiles, her response timid, like she’s not used to receiving compliments regularly. Only, I can’t imagine that to be true. “Thank you. You clean up pretty good yourself.”
“What were you just thinking about? You looked a million miles away.” Flynn takes a strand of her hair and tucks it gently behind her ear. His eyes never leave her face. It’s difficult for me to watch, disappointment mixed with a hint of jealousy builds inside of me at seeing another man touch her. Yet I know I have no right to feel this way.
She hesitates, looking away for a second, and then back. “Sorry. I was just thinking about last night.”
I knew it. You’re thinking about me too, aren’t you?
“You should be thinking about tomorrow, not yesterday.” Flynn leans his head down, dragging her eyes back up to his.
Tilting her head to the side, she asks, “What’s tomorrow?”
“Our date.” The asshole smiles so big, I want to smack the smugness from his face.
“You want me as your first stranded date?”
“Cut! Camera three, fade to black,” Joel yells, and the picture I’m staring at fades away, along with my hope.
***
An hour later when Miles finally comes back from the set, I feel deflated. “Have you been watching?” he asks excitedly.
“I watched for a little while.” My tone is curt. I’ve never been one to easily hide my emotions too well. But Miles is riding high and doesn’t even notice.
“There’s so much chemistry going on in there, the set might explode.”
“That’s great, Miles.”
“We’re on a fifteen-minute break and then Flynn is going to announce his pick for the first stranded date. I’ll be able to wrap up in an hour, then we can head back to the studio.”
“Great.” My brother completely misses the sarcasm in my tone.
Joel comes back out of the house, just as Miles goes back in. Taking the seat next to him, I decide to watch the final scene, against my better judgment. Roaming cameras tape random exchanges between the contestants, finally settling in on a couple as they pan in outside near the pool area. Flynn appears on camera again, only this time he’s with Jessica.
My interest piques back up as she lays both her hands flat on his chest. She looks up at him from beneath big, round, hooded eyes laced with long, thick black lashes that offset her sparkling blues. She really is attractive. A bombshell, one whose curves radiate sex appeal. Apparently Flynn thinks so too. “I’d love to get to know you better in private,” she coos at him, her voice sultry and seductive, full of hidden meaning. Normally, she’d be exactly what I would be into.
Flynn seems to get caught in the web she weaves, as easily as she spins it. “I’d love to get to know you, too.” He rubs her bare shoulders before he continues, but the exchange is different than it was with Kate, less intimate. “There are a lot of stranded dates coming up.” Fuck! He’s hedging.
Not thinking it through before I open my mouth, I turn to Joel and do something uncharacteristic of me. In fact, it seems more like a Miles thing to do. “Tell Flynn to ask Jessica on the stranded date,” I demand.
Joel’s brows furrow. “Pardon?”
“This is scripted reality, right?”
“Yes … but—”
I’m in no mood to argue. “Script him to invite Jessica for the first date,” I demand.
“Can I ask why?”
“No.” My response is clipped.
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up.
“You have my word: This show doesn’t make it, you direct the next project over at Montgomery Productions.”
Seeing I’m dead serious, knowing I’m a man of my word, it doesn’t take long for Joel to see things my way.
“Cut camera five!” he yells into the microphone. “I need a moment with Flynn.”
Joel looks to me for approval. I stop him as he heads toward the set. “Don’t mention any of this to Miles.”
He nods and walks off.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kate
Not sure if I feel disappointment or relief that Flynn picked Jessica for the first stranded date, I plop my unused overnight bag inside my front door.
“Guess Flynn picked someone else, Miley?” Sadie says, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge and pouring two glasses. “What a loser.”
Tossing my keys on the counter, I join her in the kitchen. “Actually, he asked me to go, but I said no. Told him I’d rather come home and share a cheap bottle of White Zinfandel with my best friend.” I take the glass she just poured from her hand before she can sip.
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” She squints, assessing me.
“He picked Jessica.” I sigh and sit on the stool on the other side of the counter.
Sadie leans in. “Aren’t you violating your contract, disclosing who he picked to me?”
I sip my wine. “My attorney advised me to violate that pesky thing every chance I get.”
“Good advice. I bet your lawyer’s got a great rack too.”
“The weird thing is … I really thought he was going to ask me. He pretty much told me he was going to.”
“So what happened?”
“I don’t know. Guess he changed his mind when he got a load of Jessica’s boobs in that dress.”
“Well, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Sadie holds the second glass up, an unspoken toast to me before drinking.
“It’s okay, I needed to bring the Jeep into the shop tomorrow anyway. And I’m going to see if I can grab a shift at the casino tomorrow night, since I’m off till Monday now. Think you can give me a ride to the studio in the morning? I can find someone to give me a ride back to the shop after it’s done.”
“Sure. But if Mr. McNiceAss is there, you have to introduce me.”
“Miles?” But I know who she’s talking about. She’s been obsessed with his ass since she came with me to the interview portion of the application process for the show. Some women have a weakness for dimples, others have a thing for broad shoulders or height. Sadie is most definitely an ass girl.
“Who else?”
“There’s something weird about that guy. He’s nice and all, but I don’t trust him. I keep my distance.”
Sadie shrugs. “I don’t want to marry him. I just want to get him naked.” She sips her wine. “And dig my nails into that fine ass as he plows into me.”
“How do you practice in entertainment law? Aren’t most of your clients handsome actors? It must be difficult for you to get any work done, with your brain constantly in the gutter all day.”
“Tell me about it.” She exhales loudly and together we finish the bottle before going to bed. We’ve both had a long stretch of self imposed abstinence. Sadie’s to recover from a broken heart her fiancé left her with when he broke things off. But my broken heart doesn’t come from the hands of a man. Well, not one in the same respect as Sadie anyway.
***
I’m early for the production meeting when we pull into the studio parking lot. The silent click of the minutes on the dashboard catches my attention as the number changes. 11:11. Four of a kind. I close my eyes and make a wish. Today may turn out better than I expected after all.
“Thanks for the ride.” I reach for the door han
dle and Sadie cuts the engine.
“I’m coming in with you.”
“You really want to meet him? He’s a womanizer.”
“I’m hoping he’ll womanize me.”
We walk through the studio toward the conference room where the remaining contestants are meeting this morning to discuss the shooting schedule. Of course, Flynn and Jessica won’t be there—they have the day off to recover from their stranded date. I’m guessing any man needs a day of recovery after a date with that woman.
Walking down the long hall to the conference room, I stop in my tracks as I catch sight of someone barreling down the hall, typing away on his iPhone, about five seconds from crashing into me. Sadie walks right into me as I halt. “What the …” She’s just about to yell at me when she spots the man that has halted my path. She gasps, instead of finishing her sentence. The sound catches the attention of the otherwise occupied man.
The casual appearance and demeanor of the other night gone, Cooper looks every bit the picture of power and authority in a custom-tailored three-piece suit. His longish hair grazes his collar, giving him the appearance of a model dressed for an Armani ad. My stomach flutters before he even utters a word.
“Kate.” He closes the distance between us, holding out his hand to me, palm up. Shaky from seeing him again without warning, I place my hand in his. My pulse reacts on its own accord, my stomach churning nervously, like a damn schoolgirl’s. I stare at him wordlessly, my mind filled with racing thoughts I can’t seem to make sense of and pull into words.
“Kate?” he repeats, concern in his voice.
“Cooper. I … I … you caught me off guard, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I didn’t expect to see you either.” He smiles. “But I’m glad I did.” Amusement dances in his eyes, obvious male satisfaction at my being flustered.
Breaking eye contact to collect my wits, I take in the full sight of him. Broad, thick shoulders, the way his shirt tucks into his pants, hanging so perfectly from his narrow waist. Scanning the length of him down, I flush more than when I was caught in his gaze.
He raises one eyebrow playfully, having watched my slow assaulting inspection of him. A lopsided grin graces his face as he speaks, “Let’s grab a cup of coffee.”
“Coffee?” I mimic, still unable to comprehend even the simplest of conversations. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Yes. Do you drink coffee? If not, I’ll buy you tea. Or water. You do drink water, right?” he teases.
“She drinks coffee,” Sadie interjects from behind me. I’d completely forgotten there was anyone else in the hall. Anyone else in the universe, in fact, at this moment.
Cooper smiles, addressing Sadie, instead of me. “Good to know. How does she drink her coffee?”
“Cream, no sugar.”
He nods, smiling. Something unspoken passes between the two of them.
Thankfully, Sadie snaps me out of my haze. “I have to run, Kate. Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll get a ride.”
“You sure?”
Cooper responds, “I’ll drive her.”
“You don’t even know where I’m going,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Bye, Ms. Biel-Timberlake.” Sadie saunters off, a shit-eating grin on her face.
“So … coffee?” he asks, already guiding me with his hand on the small of my back.
“Sure.” I’m early and a cup of coffee isn’t a date, I justify in my head.
We only make it a few steps down the hall together before Cooper’s cell phone rings. He mutters something I can’t make out before he excuses himself to answer. “What?”
I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that phone call.
“No. You can’t offer that. Every union will be breathing down our neck if you do. That’s not negotiating, that’s throwing in the towel.” He pauses, listens for a minute and then growls, “Christ, Evan. I’ll be right there. No. Don’t let them walk out the door. Tell them to wait.”
“I’m sorry. I have to run. What time are you leaving?”
“Five?” I guesstimate, since I actually have no idea how long a reality TV planning session will take. Foolishly, I used to think reality TV was about reality.
“I’ll pick you up here.”
“Thanks. But you don’t have to. I can get a ride.”
Stepping in my path, he turns to face me, halting my stride. Eyes lock on my mouth for a long moment, then his lips curl as he meets my gaze. “I’m taking you,” he says in a raspy voice. “It’s probably the one thing that is going to keep me sane today. Thinking about seeing you again later.”
How can I argue with that logic?
***
Sitting around a long conference table, two rows deep, the “talent” in the front, crew in the back, I listen as Miles Montgomery spends hours detailing his vision. He lays out who we are. Who we are. I guess I should be happy he’s dubbed me “the girl next door,” especially since the room apparently contains one “town slut” and another “drunk gossip.” He actually gives us these titles, as if he’s the king at the coronation and we’re his subservient minions. I wasn’t a big fan the first day I met Miles Montgomery, even less of one after today.
I find myself daydreaming for a good portion of the meeting, my mind continually wandering back to one person, Cooper. He was even more striking than I remembered; his captivating green eyes were difficult to tear mine away from. And the way he spoke today, the command he held, heightened how sexy he is to a whole new level.
As if reading my mind, Miles throws a file onto the table. “This, ladies and gentlemen, is a copy of your contract. Putting aside the legal ease, this is what it boils down to. He motions to his assistant and she flicks off the lights. A screen projects up on one side of the room. The first few bullet points fill a page. Miles reads them aloud.
“You are a character in a loosely scripted play. You are not free to choose to play a new one.
Forget the cameras are there. Don’t whisper; we need to capture that secret you’re telling.
Discussing anything that has not been aired with anyone outside of the show is a violation of your contract.
Cameras and cell phones are prohibited. You are to have no outside contact of any kind during the hours you’re filming.
Dating or sexual relationships, of any kind, other than with the bachelor or a fellow contestant, are prohibited until the last episode has aired.
Violation of any of the terms of the contract will result in forfeiture of any prizes. And you can, and will, be sued for breach of contract.”
He smiles as if he’s enjoying himself. Something about the guy just makes me want to shower after spending time in a room with him.
***
I’m outside talking to Ava when Cooper pulls up in a classic convertible Porsche. Her eyes go wide when he hops out of his car and heads over to me as if he’s on a mission.
“Ready?” he asks in a businesslike manner. His hand reaching out to the small of my back is the only indication he could be more than my ride.
“Yes.” I smile somewhat wearily at Ava. “See you tomorrow.” Her mouth is still hanging open as we walk away.
Remaining silent as he opens the door for me and waits for me to get in, Cooper jogs around to the driver’s side and pulls out of the parking spot in a rush. “If you’re in a hurry, I can get a ride,” I offer, but he’s already barreling out of the lot.
“Sorry. I just want to get out of here. It’s been a long day.” His hand flexes, shifting the gear stick into third and, as ridiculous as it seems, even the sight of him taking control of the car does something to me. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Everything okay?” I ask, turning to watch him drive. There’s tension on his face … in the clench of his handsome jaw.
“It’s better now.” He flashes me a sexy grin.
As we make our way through traffic and reach the highway, he turns
east, rather than west. “Ummm … I live the other way.”
“Not taking you home,” he says with a smile. One that reaches all the way up to his eyes. They’re now covered with sunglasses, but I picture the sunflowers growing bigger as his smile broadens.
“Where are you taking me?”
“For something to eat.”
“And you’re not going to bother to ask if I want to go?” My eyebrows rise, intrigued more than offended by his assumption.
“This is the third time I’m asking you out. The first time you shot me down. The second time we were interrupted. So I’m not taking any chances by hesitating.”
“What if I were to tell you to take me home right now?”
He glances at me and quickly back to the road. “I’d take you home.” His unwavering response solidifies what I’ve felt since the moment I met him. Underneath the bossy exterior lies a gentleman at heart. The combination is sexy as hell.
“I guess I am sort of hungry …”
Cooper chuckles. “You’re difficult, aren’t you?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not all. Good things don’t usually come easy. And I love a challenge.”
A flutter grows deep in my belly. I consider arguing with him for a second, telling him I’m not a challenge for him to conquer. But instead, I relax into the seat, deciding to enjoy the wind in my hair and the beautiful man sitting next to me.
“So you work at Mile High?” I ask, breaking a comfortable silence.
“No.” His response is fast, almost as if the notion insults him.
“You just hang around there in a business suit and drop in to play cards sometimes?” I say, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.
