Reality of Love Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Marika Ray

  “So, we should be done here shortly. Wanna grab dinner after the taping?” Michael bumped me suggestively with his elbow. I’d forgotten he was even a part of this show. He’d left me alone since the first day. I’d hoped he got the message that I wasn’t interested.

  “You do know our mics are on, right?” I looked back at the contestants, hoping he’d move away. No such luck.

  “Who cares? Some guy lucky to even have a job is hearing me ask you out. So, dinner tonight?”

  Trying to hold in the grimace, I replied, “No, thanks, I’m good.”

  Michael walked in front of me, blocking my view of Austin and Brandy. “Oh, come on. We’re stuck here for a little longer. Might as well blow off some steam. Hell, us going out might stir up some publicity for the show. Tom’d love it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t give a shit if Tom would love it. I don’t love it. I already said no politely, so here’s my not-so-polite version: hell no.”

  I stepped around him, but he followed me. Where was Bertrand when you needed him?

  “Really? You’re going to turn me down but sleep with the contestant? I’m pretty sure that won’t go over well with Tom.”

  My heart stopped and fear crawled up my spine. I spun around and walked back to him, my voice hushed. “What did you say?”

  He leaned in closer, his rancid breath hitting my face. “You heard me. Going for the real young ones, huh?”

  I wanted to wipe the smile off his face. With my nails. Remembering the microphones pinned to our outfits, I had to shut him down before the whole crew knew. Quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I looked down at the mic on the neckline of my dress and then lifted my eyebrow at Michael.

  His grin grew and then he winked at me. “Must have misunderstood. We can talk about it tonight at dinner.”

  “Right after the show. Hotel restaurant.” I walked away, head held high, even though I wanted to fling myself to the ground and cry. This was exactly why I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Austin. I should have known better.

  I got through the rest of the show, my smile frozen, my cheeks aching with the effort to hold that grin in place. Both dishes by the contestants were delicious even if my abused stomach would only allow me a bite or two. I thought Austin’s chili was better than Brandy’s stew, but then again, I wasn’t exactly neutral anymore, was I? Yet another reason I should have walked away from Austin and the magic of his orgasms.

  As soon as Tom yelled “cut,” I ripped the microphone off my dress and gathered my things.

  “Meet you there,” Michael said loudly before walking to his car.

  I didn’t exactly know how to handle this situation. Did Michael actually see us going to Austin’s room last night, or was he bluffing? Maybe he saw the way Austin and I looked at each other and assumed? Either way, I was denying everything. We’d have dinner, I’d make it clear there was nothing to blackmail me over, and I’d go to my room. Alone.

  Brandy was parked next to my car, struggling to get all her utensils into the back of her car. I looked around for a member of the crew, or even Austin, but no one was around.

  “Here. Let me help you.” I grabbed a box that was slipping off the top of the stack in her arms and got it into her trunk.

  “Oh, thank you! Didn’t seem like that much until I got halfway across the parking lot. It’s like a twenty-acre lot.” She giggled and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “You did great today. You ready for the final round?” I ran my hands over the strap of my handbag, feeling awkward, like I’d chosen sides in some little game she had no awareness of.

  She grinned easily, not weighed down by guilt, fear, and disappointment, the trio of best friends that followed me everywhere today. “I sure hope so! This whole thing has been so exciting. I still can’t believe I’m even here. I mean, I want to win this thing, but now that I know Austin’s story, I’ll be happy if he wins too, you know?”

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he has such a beautiful reason for being here. To be able to adopt his little sister? That would be amazing. Heck, if I win, I might even feel a little guilty. Poor guy, that was a rough break.”

  The wind started blowing and my hair danced around my face. The rest of the world faded into the background as I stared at Brandy. She was still talking, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. All I could hear were her words echoing through my head, “adopt his little sister.” What did that mean? Why didn’t I know this about him?

  Why hadn’t I asked?

  I turned abruptly and hopped in my car. I didn’t even know if Brandy was still talking. All I knew was I had to be alone. I needed to think. I needed to sort through everything that had happened the last few days with this new information. I’d thrown Austin’s age in his face and told him he didn’t understand responsibility. If I hadn’t left his room this morning, he would have had every right to throw me out.

  ¿Qué hice?

  As I pulled up to the hotel, I saw Michael waiting outside the lobby doors, probably worried I’d blow him off and not show up for this ridiculous dinner. I gave myself two full breaths before I smoothed my hair back and climbed out of the car. I needed him to be quiet. Would it take a favor to buy his silence? Or something even worse?

  The snake had the cojones to put his hand on my lower back as we walked through the restaurant to our table. I allowed it, even as it made my skin crawl. Placing my purse on the chair with me, I sat across from him, my back straight and my icy glare carrying my message for me: don’t fuck with me.

  “Don’t look so scary, Elle. It’s just you and me. Let’s talk.” Michael had the nerve to smile while he attempted to blackmail me, looking like the lecher my instincts warned me about on day one.

  “Yes, let’s talk so this ridiculous dinner can be over that much sooner.” I smiled, the cat about to eat the mouse, right after charming it into thinking it was safe. “Again, Michael, I don’t know what you think you saw, but there’s no meat to your claim. I truly don’t enjoy being falsely accused of things of this nature. I would take that into consideration next time you decide to threaten me.”

  His sneer stayed in place, though it wobbled a bit on the edges. “Oh, this isn’t a threat, Elle. I saw you walk into Austin’s room yesterday and you didn’t come out. Floor five, remember?”

  Nausea flared to life in my stomach at his accurate information, but I scoffed, playing the part, no matter what it took. “Michael. I went to his room to sign his cookbook. Did you know he has my cookbook? It’s quite flattering really. But I left right after. You must have missed my departure.”

  “I highly doubt that, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? A rumor like that doesn’t need proof before it spreads like a bad virus, affecting everyone. So, what’s it worth to you, Elle?”

  I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes, thoroughly disgusted by the man in front of me. “So, that’s it? You’re going to blackmail me without proof? For what? What do you want, Michael Fin?”

  He settled back in his chair, confident he had me right where he wanted me. “I want a job as the head chef at your new restaurant. Relocating to the East Coast is looking enticing and your restaurant would be ideal. You and I could be a force. Together.”

  I sneered. What a dirtbag. “What happened to your restaurant in Beverly Hills?”

  He shrugged. “Creative differences with the owner.”

  Yeah, I’d bet. More like fired for being the worthless sack he was. It was time to end this debacle. “I’m afraid I already hired an executive chef, so I’m fresh out of positions. Good luck to you.” I went to grab my purse, but he leapt across the table to grab my arm, stopping me.

  “I don’t think you get it. Give me this position or I’ll go to the press.” His teeth were bared, that vein in his forehead more pronounced as he spat the words at me.

  “Take your hand off me now.” I glared right back, feeling safe since we were in a public space, tho
ugh my heart raced. I wouldn’t show the fear that shot through my body, wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. When he released my arm and sat back down, smoothing his tie, I pulled out my cell phone.

  “Next time you try to blackmail someone, make sure they aren’t recording the whole thing.” I wiggled my phone in the air, a smug grin in full force.

  His eyes went wide before his whole face turned a dark shade of red. “You’re bluffing.” His voice was low, tilting up at the end, the question mark implied, whether he meant to or not.

  “Unlike you, I get solid evidence before threatening someone. You better hope a rumor doesn’t start about me or I’ll assume it was you and this recording gets leaked. Your career, such as it is, will be over. ¿Comprende?”

  I jumped up and threw my phone back in my purse before sweeping out of the restaurant with all the dignity I could muster. I held it together until the elevator doors closed and then I slumped against the back wall. My hands were shaking and I could barely take a deep breath. Somehow, I made it into my room.

  I sat down on the bed and put my head in my hands. How had I gotten here? Everything was such a mess and I had myself to blame for all of it. I should have never slept with Austin. He was ten years younger than me and a contestant on this show. My whole reason for being here was to generate good press for my restaurant opening, not to start an affair with a cast member. And then I hurt Austin in the process by throwing false accusations and hope at him. Now this.

  Because contrary to what I told Michael, I hadn’t recorded a thing. I didn’t have concrete proof any more than he did. All I had was a tiny thread of hope to hang onto that he would believe me and not start a rumor.

  My entire career depended on it.

  12

  Austin

  Yesterday was a clusterfuck. I was so pissed when Elle left my room, I’d shaved my beard off Britney Spears style in a fit of rage and got all dressed up, my only focus on proving her wrong.

  She was all kinds of wrong. Responsibility was an old friend of mine. Elle’s arrival had merely made me put it on the back burner, but no more.

  Then I got to the location and I had to pretend there was nothing going on between Elle and me, which was so stupid. I could have started that damn fire pit solely with the electricity that seemed to arc between her and me with just one look. It took every ounce of willpower I had in my body to keep from reminiscing on every moment we’d shared the night before. I was angry and horny at the same time. Hongry.

  The conversation with Brandy before the challenge had been a nice distraction. I was realizing I was lonely being here all by myself without someone to confide in. I couldn’t tell her about what was forefront on my mind—damn Elle and her ability to distract me from what mattered most—but at least I got to tell her about my sister. And she told me about her family, her dreams, her plans for after the show.

  Brandy’s well-thought-out plans got me thinking about mine. I needed to sit down with Bertrand and Michael before the show was over and see if I could get an introduction to a chef in the Northern California area. I’d need a job the minute I left L.A. if I was to get established and get my sister back. No matter what had happened, I was starting to get more confidence in my skills, thanks to Elle. For that at least, I’d always be grateful.

  Today was a day off, so I slept in and then took a shower. When I stepped out of the bathroom, towel around my hips, I intended to order room service as I was starving, but my phone pinged several times. I picked it up, shocked to see Elle reaching out.

  Elle: I’m sure you want nothing to do with me, but we need to talk.

  Elle: Can you meet me in my room? I don’t want anyone seeing.

  Elle: Please?

  Fuck. It was the “please” that got me. I didn’t know what she wanted to talk about, but the side of me that still went weak in the knees when I thought about those lips couldn’t say no.

  “Great, come to L.A. and I turn into some kind of masochist. Just fuckin’ great,” I muttered as I whipped my towel off and found some clean boxers. Next was jeans and my favorite T-shirt—The Handsome & the Beast Saloon. She wouldn’t get my fancy shirts, and I hoped the name of the bar on my shirt would resonate with her. Hopefully she’d know which character she was.

  I was still angry, but more than that, I was hurt. She’d made it look so easy to turn off her emotions and push me out. She didn’t want anyone to see us talking? Fucking hell, that really made a guy feel real good. I made up my mind: I’d be her dirty little secret one more time so she could say whatever she had to say and then I’d take my toys and go home.

  Austin: I’ve only got a few minutes so you’ll have to make it quick. What’s your room number?

  Elle: Thank you. Room 718.

  I knocked on her door, looking up and down her hallway while I waited, wondering what the hell I was doing there. I guess I needed to be lashed by her sharp tongue one last time.

  She swung the door open and my heart instantly dropped. She looked terrible and perfect, all at the same time. She didn’t have any makeup on, her hair was a curly mess down her back, and she was in a long, well-worn T-shirt. I was still a hot-blooded male, so my mind instantly went to the question as to whether she had anything on under that shirt. She may be a bitch at times, but she was a damn gorgeous one.

  She waved me in and then retreated to the window, where she paced, the curtains still drawn. The door closed behind me and it got dark in the room. I couldn’t see much, but I could smell bacon. And maybe pancakes.

  “You wanna turn a light on so I can see you? Or is this your secret den where you kill young men after you’ve lured them in with breakfast?”

  Her head whipped up and a ghost of a smile crossed her features. “I don’t know what to do. I need your help.”

  Fuck me sideways if that cry for help didn’t puff up my chest and make me want to swoop in like a knight in shining armor.

  “What’s the problem?” I stayed where I was, barely inside her room, still not wanting to come too close even though I wanted to race over and hold her, never to let go.

  She laughed, not her usual pretty kind. The kind that grates and doesn’t exude happiness. “Michael saw me go into your room the other day.” My heart stuttered to a stop. “He tried to blackmail himself into a job at my new restaurant last night. I lied and said I recorded our whole conversation. I don’t know if he believed me or not. I’ve been all over the web this morning, but there’s been no ties mentioned between you and me. Not yet.”

  I grabbed a handful of hair, the implications of it all filtering through my mind. “Damn. I’m sorry, Elle. I know what’s in jeopardy here. What can I do?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Not much either of us can do, right? I mean, we slept together. Can’t put the horse back in the barn.”

  I scrunched up my face. “Am I the horse in this scenario or are you referring to my cock?”

  “Austin! Be serious.” She looked ready to murder me. Though seeing a little fire back in her eyes was a good thing.

  I held my hands out in surrender. “I’m sorry! I like to use jokes to diffuse tension. So sue me.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “It gets worse. My mother called again last night and is trying to force her new boyfriend on me. He’s a brand-new chef and Mother thinks he should be my executive chef, even though he has zero experience. She even went behind my back and called my actual chef to harass him and try to get him to work with her boyfriend. Never mind this is my business, not hers. Now my chef is threatening to quit because he doesn’t want to be in the middle of family drama.”

  She was pacing faster, her hands lashing out at the air like it’d personally offended her. And like the immature asshole I was, I kept glancing down at the hem of her T-shirt. Every time she slashed the air, the hem rode higher and I got just a little bit closer to answering the question of panties or no panties.

  But then she was right in front of me, her finger jabbing me in the chest. “
And then there’s you!”

  “Whoa, what about me?” I didn’t really want to be the center of her attention at the moment, not with steam coming out her ears and her eyes flashing bright with irritation.

  “Everything’s about you, Austin!” She started counting off on her fingers, unaware her accent was getting thicker and thicker. Much like my cock. “You drive me crazy with all your smiles and laughing and jokes. Like, who’s seriously that happy all the time? You drive me crazy in bed. And I shouldn’t want more, but I do. You don’t tell me anything real about yourself and then I find out these things from Brandy and feel guilty for being a puta. And you don’t get out of my head!”

  Her hands went back to her hips, the movement straining the T-shirt across her chest, which gave me full access to the outline of her nipples. Well, there was one answer: no bra. My brain finally kicked into gear and I realized what she said. Hot damn, the woman still wanted me. Then why did I still feel like shit?

  I scrubbed the heels of my hands over my eyes. “Wait. Hold on a second. Let’s go through this, huh? Yes, I am a happy guy and I like to joke around. You should try it more often. Kind of like practicing hugging. Second, you drive me just as wild in bed and I’ll always want more. I would have told you all about myself, but the minute you were done with me, you jumped out of bed and ran away. That’s on you, not me.” I reached out and put my hands on her hips, right below her fists. “And I’m in your head because you like me. Admit it.” I smirked at her, knowing it would piss her off.

  Flames danced in her eyes before they melted in front of me, going hazy as she looked her fill. Her finger came up and traced the dimples on each side of my smile. “I hate that I’ve never seen these dimples. Don’t ever have a beard again,” she whispered.

  “What is that, rule number eight?” I whispered back, pulling her in closer.

  “Fuck the rules.” Her arms snaked around my neck and I dipped my head to press my lips to hers. Her tongue swooped in like she couldn’t get close enough and I followed suit, needing more of this woman. I was still holding onto a kernel of anger toward her, but I couldn’t deny that I still wanted her. I didn’t want to be her dirty little secret, and I was more than a little afraid she’d treat me like a stranger again tomorrow, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from her now.