by Peggy Jaeger
She stopped and took another drink. Stacy knew in that moment that Nikko had somehow, some way, hurt Jade and this was her way of getting even.
Stacy was just a pawn.
“What’s to keep me from telling him you stole my idea?” she asked. Before she took her next breath, Stacy realized the trap she’d fallen into. Jade’s smarmy smile confirmed it.
“Oh, I don’t think you will, dear. If you do, we both know he’ll come to confront me. I’ll be forced to tell him about your little deal with Teddy. Your little quid pro quo. And, just like before, Nikko won’t appreciate being used to further another woman’s career. How do you think he’ll feel knowing that? His ego is as big as this state, so I can imagine he won’t like it one bit. He’ll put an end to your torrid little romance and will never look back.”
“And what do you get out of all of this?” Stacy knew the answer, but she needed to hear the odious woman say it.
“Me?” With a theatric air, she laid her hand in the space between her breasts. “Well, it’s a win-win all around for me, isn’t it? I get to star in a show with a very intriguing concept, plus, since I’ll already have an award-winning director lined up, the network will surely be appreciative.”
“It’s more than that, though, isn’t it? More than just professional kudos and garnering network favor. You want to hurt Nikko. For whatever sick and mean reason, you want him to suffer.”
“Of course I do! He deserves to for the way he treated m—treats women. It’s about time he had a comeuppance.”
Stacy kept her tongue. She refused to allow Jade to see how truly devastated she was.
While the situation might have been a self-proclaimed win-win for Jade, it was a total loss for her. If she went to Nikko and tried to explain about the letter, it might confirm in his mind that she had used him to further her career, just as Jade stated. If she told him nothing, she’d see her dream stolen outright with little recourse. Jade was correct on that. Another valid point was that the note from Teddy was handwritten. It hadn’t been drawn up by the network lawyers like every other legal document was. Even though he’d signed it and had his assistant witness it, EBS’s legal team could very well fight its legitimate status. They could claim Teddy signed it under duress, which in truth, he had.
Jesus. This was a nightmare.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. When she pulled it out, Melora’s where are you? brought her back to the present.
“What are you going to do?” Jade asked, refilling her wine.
Stacy slipped the phone back into her trouser pocket and turned. There was no way she was going to let this bitch see how upset she was. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
Channeling Grandma Sophie’s straight-as-a-steel-rod backbone, she opened the camper door and tossed over her shoulder, “Have lunch.”
Chapter Twenty-two
For the third time, Nikko turned his head around to check on Stacy. Seated under the blaring late-afternoon heat pouring down on the tent canopy, sunglasses wrapped around her face, he couldn’t get a bead on what was bothering her.
She’d been unusually quiet at lunch, and despite Melora’s exuberant chatter, Stacy had seemed distracted. He figured the cause easily enough: Jade Quartermaine. The woman was a royal pain in the ass. She must have said something to Stacy that upset her after he left them.
But what?
At lunch he’d wanted to broach the subject of Jade’s proposal, but had thought better of it when he sensed Stacy’s mood. If Melora had suspected something was off, she’d never commented, continuing to chat away at how happy she was to be flying home soon. When the teen had asked Stacy when she planned on leaving the ranch, Stacy’s reply had been wooden.
“My flight’s in two days,” she’d said. “I need to stick around to ensure that everything is shipped and returned without any snafus.”
After that they finished quickly, due to getting a late start with Jade’s interruption.
Stacy had pleaded an excuse to check on something, bolting from the Stamps’ RV as soon as she’d cleared her plate. Nikko wanted to run after her, but a text from Todd about a camera issue prevented him.
Now, as the chefs prepared to serve their final challenge dish, Nikko had a thousand thoughts running through his head about production needs, but uppermost was his concern about Stacy.
With the end of production just a few short hours way, he knew his time with her was almost over from a professional standpoint. He’d be the one working on editing the footage for broadcast, along with the editing team. Her assistance would no longer be needed on a daily basis, and wasn’t that a hoot? For all his bellyaching about never needing or wanting an executive producer, wasn’t it just a kick in the nuts that now he’d come to rely on the one assigned to him?
He wanted Stacy in his life, there was no denying it. She’d come to mean more to him than any other woman he could recall, including his ex-wife. Flannery had been an obsession for him while they’d been together. Once he discovered how she’d manipulated and used him to further her career, coupled with her blatant infidelity, he’d never known such a personal low point. Flannery had been hauntingly beautiful, but all that beauty had hidden a cold, calculated, and manipulative heart.
Stacy’s heart, he’d witnessed firsthand, was as open and sweet and as far from scheming as he could imagine.
He knew she had a home and a career to go back to, as did he. The knowledge he wanted her to share in his life was something he was going to tell her tonight, after the winner was announced, and the competition done.
“Service is in twenty minutes,” Nikko called after checking the time stamp on his console. He turned around once more to Stacy and asked, “Is everything set up?”
With a nod, she held up her cell phone. “I just got a text that the guests are starting to take their seats in the tent. Everything appears to be functioning from a service standpoint.”
“Okay, good. Have them start carting the food over,” he said into his headset. On the portable screen they watched as the set producer gave the signal for the chefs to start walking with their filled food trolleys from the makeshift food-prep stations they’d been assigned over to a massive tent.
Amos Dixon, his family and all his ranch hands, in addition to twenty other invited guests, among them Jimmy Rodgers and several restaurateurs from the surrounding area, and five master chefs along with Jade and Dan, were all part of the final voting group.
Although Nikko already knew who had taken the top votes throughout the competition, tonight’s overall winner could cause an upset. There were two chefs who’d come out on top equally through the weeks of filming and it truly was for either of them to win it all if tonight’s offering held up to their past performances. Either way, in a little under five hours a Beef Battles champion would be announced.
“Okay, everyone,” Nikko said, as he glanced around the group. “This is it.” He noticed Stacy rise, tap her earpiece, and move from the canopy.
He spotted Melora making her way over to him. She looked so much better than she had when they’d first come out to the ranch. Gone was the city pallor made even worse by the stark white face powder she routinely wore. Her face was clean, makeup-free, and the color she now sported was a natural and healthy glow. Her cheeks had filled out and all the harsh angles and planes on her bony frame had softened. Today she was wearing calf-length blue-cotton pants with an oversized, paler blue T-shirt. For the first time in a while her clothes didn’t look like they were hanging on a skeleton.
Nikko knew he had Stacy to thank almost as much as he did himself for the girl’s recovery. Her calm, loving presence had helped guide his daughter back from an emotional brink that he’d been powerless to prevent. He was indebted to her for that and so much more.
“You’re right on time,” he told her, gathering her into a hug, an embrace she was quick to accep
t.
“Yeah, well, it’s easy when you’ve got, like, nothing, literally nothing, to do to pass the time.”
She said it with a free and easy smile and none of the teenaged disdain usually imbuing her tone.
“Where’s Stacy?”
“Getting stuff seen to. Let’s get over to the tent and we can find her and get you two settled.”
“Stacy told me what this final challenge was a few days ago, but I forgot. Obviously”—she rolled her eyes—“it concerns cow of some kind, because, hello, what else?”
He laughed. “Yeah, but today it’s also side dishes. They each had to prepare racks of ribs the old-west way of cooking them on a spit.”
“Now there’s a word that, like, just makes you want to eat everything in sight. Spit. Not. Yuk.”
“Plus, they had to make the side dishes using only a campfire. No frills. No fancy sauces or anything else. True ranch cooking.”
As soon as they came to the tent, the aroma of the succulent meat hit them hard. Banquet tables were aligned along the inside of the tent, each chef assigned two for their dishes to be served from. The interior of the tent housed dozens of picnic-style benches, the tables covered with gingham red-and-white tablecloths.
“There’s Stacy.” Melora pointed across the crowded tent. She was speaking with several of her producers. Her notebook was open and she had a headset secured over her hair. That little electrical jolt sparking in his midsection every time he saw her was becoming a welcomed friend.
“See ya.” Melora kissed him on the cheek and scurried off across the tent.
The smile Stacy gave his daughter hit him higher up than the one a moment ago. This one pierced right through his heart, sending a seizing shudder up his spine.
The noisy tent grew silent around him, a dull, throbbing drum sounding in his head. His vision narrowed, then tunneled, so with a single blink, all he could see was her face and the brilliance of her smile. She lifted her gaze, staring off behind his daughter and connected with his. He swore he could hear her take in a breath, just like she always did right before he kissed her.
He was hard in a heartbeat. Fully, inconveniently, aroused.
Nikko had to will himself not to stomp across the tent, weave past the dozens of tables and people milling about, and pull Stacy into his arms, declaring for one and all how he felt about her. How he wanted her. How he wasn’t going to let her out of his life now that he’d found her.
Melora pulled Stacy’s attention from his. When Stacy broke eye contact and looked at his daughter, even from the distance he was from her, he could she was as overcome as he. She shook her head a few times as if she were coming out of a fugue and trying to refocus.
How long he stood there watching her, he didn’t have a clue. He took several deep breaths and tried to quell his obvious desire from being witnessed.
Jesus.
He hadn’t felt this horny this quick since he was fifteen and the mere thought of a girl would send him into a state of priapism.
Twenty-five years and a lifetime of sexual experience later and you’d think he’d be able to clamp it down.
When his name was called a few seconds later, he’d gotten himself back in order.
He had a finale to film. A show to conclude.
But later he and Stacy were going to have a long, long chat about the future.
* * * *
“You know who’s winning so far, don’t you?” Melora asked as they stood off to the side of the dining tent.
Dinner was done and all the chefs had been escorted to the portable kitchen tent—their own makeshift stew room—to await the announcement of a winner. Melora had just helped her pass out the voting cards and in a few moments they’d pick them up and bring them to Nikko.
“Yes. Your dad and I have been tallying them after every challenge. Plus, we’ve added up how each chef has done with the judges’ votes.”
Melora bit down on the corner of her bottom lip. “I know you can’t, like, tell me who’s won so far, but is it, like, close, between anybody?”
Stacy turned her head and tucked her chin to hide her grin. She knew Melora hoped Riley MacNeill would be named the contest winner. Melora’s admission she’d snuck out to see the youngest chef after curfew still bounced around in her head. She’d debated with herself more times than not whether to tell Nikko. The moment she thought she should, as a responsible adult would, she’d remembered what she’d been like at the teen’s age. A crush, even a first love, was something special and Stacy didn’t want to spoil it for her.
“Well, I can tell you it’s neck and neck between two chefs. In fact,” she said, “it could go either way tonight with this group’s”—she thrust her chin at the filled tent—“vote.”
“I can’t believe I’m, like, nervous.” Her hands flittered up and out at her side. “This is the first time I’ve ever been with Daddy during one of his shoots. It’s...exciting.”
“And nerve-racking,” Stacy added. “Looks like people are done. Let’s go gather the votes.”
When they had them all, Stacy pressed her earpiece and waited for Nikko to acknowledge her call.
“You got them?” he asked without preamble.
“Yes. Melora and I are headed your way.”
While they walked back to the Stamps’ RV, Stacy contacted her producers to keep them up to speed and coordinated with the set crew about what would happen once the winner was announced.
“Do you, like, ever, have a break?” Melora asked when they finally got to the camper.
Stacy chuckled. “All part of the job.”
The air-conditioned interior cooled Stacy down as soon as they stepped into it.
“It’s, like, a million degrees out there.” Melora slumped down into a seat. She handed the canvas bag with the votes to Nikko, who shoved a bottled water across the table to her.
“Drink this.” He offered another one to Stacy. “Mel, you need to go in the back for a few minutes while we count,” Nikko told her. “I’m sorry, kid. Those are the rules.”
She waved a hand in the air again. “’K. Get me when it’s time to go.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks for your help,” Stacy told her.
Once they were alone, Stacy’s nerves returned. She took a gulp of her water, then sat across the table from Nikko. “Want to split the count up?” she asked. “It’ll go faster. We can each tally our own, then pass them to one another to check.”
She stopped when she realized he was staring at her, the groove between his eyebrows deepening.
“What’s wrong?”
“You tell me,” he said. “You’ve been quiet and a little out of it since lunch.”
“I’m sorry.” She rested her arms down on the table and clasped her hands together in front of her. A moment later, she unclasped them and rubbed them down her thighs. “I’m just tired and my mind’s running in a million different directions. I just don’t want to forget anything.”
She knew she was babbling, but couldn’t stop.
“Did something happen between you and Jade after I left her camper?”
She swallowed and kept her gaze trained on his face. She couldn’t lie to him. Wouldn’t. So she settled for the tactic she always used with her parents when she wanted to avoid unpleasant subjects: diversion.
Cocking her head to one side, she asked, “Did Jade say something happened?”
“No, but when you got back you were paler than usual and your hands wouldn’t sit still. Kind of like right now.” He dropped his gaze down to where she was twining and untwining her fingers together.
Immediately, she stopped. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, sweetheart, and tell me what’s wrong.” He reached across the table and grabbed her fidgeting hands with his own.
A lightning bolt of heat shot str
aight up her arm. Nikko leaned in, tugging her as he did. “Talk to me.”
For a passing moment she considered confessing all. Just telling him about the stupid note, the reason why she’d forced Teddy to sign it; the doubts she’d been wracked with about working with Nikko after hearing about his volatile reputation, and how she’d ultimately lost her heart both to him and his daughter.
She wanted to confess she was in love with him, but knew if she said it, she’d have to tell him the rest as well, because she couldn’t conceal it all from him. Not in good faith, anyway. In truth, she was afraid. Terrified that first, he didn’t feel for her the same way she did him, and second, if he did feel anything for her it would all dissolve once he heard the truth about why she’d come to the ranch.
Never before had she been so torn about how to handle a situation. The heat from his touch couldn’t warm the cold edge of sweat that slid down her spine.
Now wasn’t the time to confess. They needed to finish the show, announce the winner, and deal with whatever was to come after that. Uppermost now was the finale.
“I will,” she said, squeezing his hands. “But not now. We need to count these votes and get this show wrapped.”
“But later on? You’ll talk to me then? Tell me what’s bothering you? What’s going on?”
She shifted in her chair and let out a breath through her nose. “Yes. Yes. I will.”
His eyes narrowed and he shook his head a few times while he continued to stare at her. She didn’t think he believed her, so she pressed his hands again and said, “I promise.”
