Winning the Game

by Leesa Bow

“I’m sure you will.” She’s not at all convinced. “I hope he looks at my girls the same way he’s looking at you.”

  I don’t want to defend myself, especially when I can barely stand in the same room as Rhett without feeling something. I need to gather my thoughts. “He will. Anyway, I have work to do and I’ve heard all his answers, so I’ll see you later this afternoon in the lounge.”

  “You’re really not going to watch?”

  “Nope. Nothing I can do if he stuffs up his response. Not like I have a mic to his earpiece. Besides, I’m sure Grant will let me know,” I say dramatically.

  “Tor, I haven’t thanked you for today. So … thanks,” she whispers. “Because I won’t see you later. I need to get home and check on Brent. Hell, if Grant offers me a cocktail this afternoon I’ll fall asleep after spending half the night in the emergency room.”

  “It’s never a problem. And if you need me to cover tomorrow I can. Give Brent my love and tell him I wish him a speedy recovery.” I then quietly retreat from the set.

  After lunch I’m thankful to be working in the basement; not the basement as such but the large room that houses all the top-secret designs. Larry, designer for the ladies, and I are double-checking the finer details for tomorrow in case something is missed in Ingrid’s absence. Grant is the only person I’ve told of my whereabouts, so when there’s a knock on the door and Rhett’s voice asks Larry if he can speak to me, I jump to my feet in surprise.

  “You’re not allowed down here, Rhett,” I say quickly to stop him from entering.

  “I need to speak to you about my clothes for tomorrow.” His eyes flick to Larry’s then back to mine.

  “Has Ingrid left already?”

  “Yes, and Grant sent me here to find you. I’m not wearing the shirt you’ve selected.”

  Larry gives me the nod. “We’re done here, Tor. It’s important you sort out Rhett’s wardrobe, and before he sees any of the dresses.”

  “I’m not trying to sneak a peek at your dresses, mate.”

  “Okay,” I say sharply and storm past Rhett. I reach the elevator and press the button several times.

  “Are you avoiding me because of last night?” he asks in a low voice.

  I don’t look at him. “No. I’ve been busy. Do you really have an issue with wardrobe?” The elevator doors open and I hit level two.

  “No.”

  “What?” I spin around as the doors close.

  “Guess we’re both liars,” he says smugly. “I wanted to see you before this afternoon when I have to mingle with the contestants.”

  The doors open. “It’s nothing to cause you concern. Use your charm, since it comes so naturally. It worked on me last night.” He raises an arm, reaching for me. I step back, bypassing his hand because I know if he touches me I’ll lose all coherent thought. “It won’t happen again.”

  Rhett follows me down the hall to his styling room, and as soon as I unlock the door he says, “I think you’re wrong this time, Boss.”

  “About what?”

  The door clicks shut and Rhett turns with hooded eyes. “I’m not stupid. We both know it will. By the look on your face you want me as much as I want you.”

  My insides clench, and I’m filled with the same lust as last night because yes, I want him. Rhett moves closer. His gaze lands on my mouth. I’m acutely aware of his warm breath, and I’m also staring at his lips. Lips I want to kiss, but know it will be my downfall. Because I’ll lose my job and Rhett won’t get re-signed if we’re caught. The reminder comes with perfect timing. Finding some control, I square my shoulders and bring my gaze up to look him in the eye.

  “I want you to respect me as your mentor while you’re on the show,” I croak, and not with the strong voice I hoped for. Still, he looks surprised. “What? Do you think I’m ready to jump into bed with you after one little kiss?” I attempt to step around him but he takes hold of my arm, and heat ignites beneath his touch.

  “That’s not what I was trying to do. I’m not trying to get you in my bed, for Christ’s sake. I like you and I want you to know it before I go out there and proclaim how much I’m attracted to those girls.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck.

  “Acting like a Neanderthal doesn’t help any.”

  His eyes search my face. “What will?”

  I’m stuck for words. “Nothing,” I whisper, now mesmerised by the rawness behind his beautiful blues.

  “When I’m on the set, I’ll say words that will mean nothing,” he murmurs in a way to make me sympathise.

  “Empty words, maybe, but your tone and body language can convince the audience otherwise.” I look into his eyes and search for understanding.

  “Unlike last night …” He takes a step closer. “There was something between us. I want there to be something between us when the show’s finished.” It takes all my strength not to react to his declaration. “I want you to know how I feel because when you deliberately avoided me today it spooked me. And I understand there can’t be anything between us while I’m contracted to Contest, but if there’s a chance—”

  “There’s no chance,” I interrupt, and tug my arm from his grasp. “To be committed like I’m training you to be, you have to give one of the girls hope. Hope you’ll have a connection, and maybe a future.”

  He stares, challenging me. “Thought you did your homework. Then you know I play by my own rules.” Rhett shoots me one more pointed look before walking toward the door.

  I shake my head as though clearing my thoughts, focusing again on why we’re here. “Did you have a problem with your wardrobe?” I ask quickly.

  He stops, and one hand grips the doorway as he turns around. “Nope. I told you in the lift I didn’t. You still brought me here knowing that, so think about why you needed to get me alone.” His fingers tap the doorway. “I’ll see you in the lounge. Try not to drink too many cocktails, because I’m not rescuing you this time.”

  RHETT

  One hour into the cocktail party and my composure is wavering. I’m mid conversation with Sienna when Cassandra interrupts, demanding my attention. Sienna didn’t react, which was big of her. Minutes later I decidedly shift away from Cassandra and join Kaetrin, Sally and Fleur in the booth opposite. I’m connecting with Kaetrin, and disappointed when she leaves to get another drink.

  Sally slides closer, filling the space between us. She’s smiling and I smile too, although hesitant. Intuition warning me she has an agenda.

  “The first time I saw you I knew I wanted to be on this show,” she purrs.

  “Is that so? You didn’t want to be on Contest when you first applied online?” I do my best not to sound mocking.

  “Well, of course, I hoped to be chosen as a contestant.” She presses her breasts into my arm, and despite her effort to distract me, I focus on her dull, brown eyes. “After I saw how hot you are I wanted to get to know you, and stay on the show. I’ve already dreamt about being with you in Bali.” Her hand lands on my thigh, close to my groin. “And the fun we could have together.” She shoots me a look, as though she’s implanting her dirty thoughts in my brain. Sally takes a sip of her cocktail, eyes hooded, waiting for my reaction.

  For years I’ve suffered a barrage of young girls hitting on me in an ugly style. In this moment I’m thankful for the experience, and the control of refusing an offer without adding insult. “I imagine we could,” I say and smile, keeping my eyes up as she skims her curves over my arm. “However, the decision lies not only with me. It’s the viewers you’ll need to impress. And since you have a beautiful smile, I’m sure you’ll win them over.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Excuse me, Sweet Sally, I need to get another beer.” Pushing up off the soft cushions I curse under my breath as I find a clear path to the bar. Before I make it there, Lucy blocks my way.

  “Hey,” she whispers. “How you doing?”

  “I’m good … so far.” I hold up my empty beer bottle. “I need a refill. Liquid encouragement.”

  Lucy smile
s, and a dimple appears in each cheek. Cute. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Come on, a guy with your looks”—her gaze lowers—“body”—her eyes meet mine—“and history.” Then she loses me.

  It takes Tori’s voice in the back of my head, reminding me to “be nice,” to nip a repulsed shiver. I lean in so my mouth is level with her ear. “You’re right. A guy with my history should pull out the fail-safe pick-up lines I use on girls. What line should I use on you?”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m trying to compliment you. What I’m trying to say is, don’t be nervous. The girls are already in love with you. Thought you should know.”

  “And you’re not?” I ask, amused. “Why, where is my book when I need it?”

  Lucy touches my arm. I’m surprised she didn’t storm off. “Hey. You’re looking tired. It’s why I asked. These early mornings take their toll. Mix it with alcohol and we’re fragile as glass. Anyway, I doubt there’d be a line in your book that would work on me.”

  My interest is piqued. I raise one eyebrow. “Don’t be so sure, dimples.”

  Lucy rolls her eyes. “It’s like I’m your friend’s little sister or something.”

  “You just upped the stakes.”

  “You’re going to need to do a lot better.”

  “Walk with me,” I say, and place my hand on her back to guide her to the bar. I order a beer for myself, and a mojito for Lucy. “I’m under the impression you’re supposed to be impressing me, not the other way.”

  “Falling in love happens both ways, Mr Bigtime. Hasn’t anyone told you that?”

  “Mr Bigtime?”

  “I could say worse but I’m hoping it has the same effect on you as dimples has on me.”

  I’m definitely warming to Lucy. “What’s your story?”

  “What? You haven’t seen my interview?” She feigns shock.

  “I’m still trying to remember everyone’s names, and where they’re from and why they want to be on the show.”

  “Does it matter? Really? I mean, it’s about initial attraction and connection. The rest will be history. I’d rather tell you what I find most attractive about you. Then you tell me. Being honest is important, don’t you think?”

  Without further thought my gaze shoots beyond the set, trying to make out the faces through the bright camera lights. I’ve managed not to think about Tori until Lucy reminds me about being honest. “I do. But sometimes, to be honest with yourself you have to hide the truth.”

  Lucy blinks quickly. She dips her chin. Caramel-blonde hair falls around her face, shielding her expression. “Is that what you’re doing now?”

  “Not with you.” With one finger I lift her chin until she’s looking me in the eye. “Already I’m connecting with you because I can be myself. You gave it to me point blank, and I appreciate it. Thank you for not holding back.”

  “I like how you speak with your eyes. It’s how I tell if you’re lying.”

  I chuckle.

  “I notice the little things.”

  I take her hand in mine. “You’re perceptive.” Lucy shrugs. My gaze travels lower. “And you’re hot.”

  “Oh.” She blushes a little. “Guess you’re perceptive as well.”

  “I notice … anatomy.”

  She laughs. “You pretend to notice, but I can tell you’re looking deeper.”

  I nod slowly. “I’m impressed.”

  “Am I interrupting?” Emma, the girl I took a liking to at the introductions, joins Lucy and me at the bar.

  “Not at all. Do you have a drink?”

  Emma holds up what appears to be a whisky on the rocks. “Few more of these and I’ll need to be tucked into bed.”

  A lightweight … great.

  “Ok-ay.” Lucy drags out the last syllable. “I’ll leave you two to chat.” Lucy darts through the crowd and I’m annoyed she felt the need to leave.

  Before Emma and I speak, Grant calls it a day. I sigh. There’s nothing worse than listening to a chick flirt and try to act sober and cute when she’s wasted. Chicks think it’s alluring, but it’s a major turnoff. When I get with a girl I don’t want her tanked. I want her to remember every touch.

  Grant announces everyone can go home for the night, but we need to be back on set in the early morning to allow time to be groomed, and dressed for a formal dinner party. Everyone is to be seated by two in the afternoon so filming can wind up by nightfall. I sense Tori watching me from the corner as I pack up my things and shove them into my backpack. Every nerve is on edge after meeting the contestants, and Tori will be assessing my every move. Without a single glance her way I head straight toward the door.

  “Rhett,” Tori calls, but I keep walking.

  She catches up with me and steps in front. “I need to talk with you.”

  “About what?”

  “You know what?”

  I stare her down. “No. I don’t.”

  “How the initial conversation with Lucy isn’t going to win you any fans. You were a little aggressive.”

  “Aggressive?” I chuckle, but without humour. “After everything today you think I’m being aggressive.” I turn and keep walking.

  “Go home and get some sleep, but be in my office at nine sharp.”

  I shoot a look over my shoulder. “How can I be sure you’ll be there?”

  “You’re my client and you need to work on how to withhold emotion. At the moment you suck.”

  Stopping mid-step, it takes all my control not to blame her. Instead, I take her advice and feign a smile. “You’re right, I do. I’ll see you in the morning, Boss.”

  She stares at me a moment longer then pivots on her heel and sashays down the hall toward her office.

  And I stand like the douche I am, watching her hips sway in her tight skirt.

  I toss and turn all night, realising what a jerk I’ve been. If I want to impress Tori then I need to play her way. She’s right. I need to stop wearing my heart on my sleeve and be smarter.

  I arrive early for the meeting. When I reach Tori’s office her door is open and she’s behind the desk, talking on the phone. Standing at the door I wait and listen to her argue in her gentle but determined manner to get a point across.

  “Rhett is my client and my job is to do what’s best for him, and the Blackbirds Football Club. Do I need to remind you of what Mr Fontaine agreed to at the meeting?” She pauses. “Yes, I know we have to put the show first. There has to be another way. Give me another week, and if you’re not happy someone else can be assigned to him and you can play it your way. Fine. I’ll discuss it more with you later.”

  Tori ends the call and groans loudly, running her hands over her forehead, careful not to mess up her hair. Smothering a smile, I step inside the room.

  “Want to fill me in on what that was about?”

  Her shoulders move as she lets out a long breath. “Good morning, Rhett.” Tori forces a smile. “Please take a seat.”

  “No games. I think we’re beyond that.”

  She nods. “Grant thinks you’re being too receptive to the contestants’ needs, and wants a little more ‘action.’ He wants some footage where the girls’ claws are out and he needs you to make some of the girls jealous, so they’ll react. He’s given a couple of names who he thinks will … well, not play nice in order to win.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “I thought this was about me, proving I’m a better man, and not about playing one lady against the other?”

  “Yes, it’s that too. But for ratings, we need a little something … more. I’m sorry. I’ll think of something that won’t reflect on you. Leave it with me for today. So … let’s run over yesterday’s show. In my opinion, you still need to pull back on your emotion. You’re expressing disapproval in your expression. Your eyes, and how your nose flares. And you struggle to contain the sarcasm in your tone. It’s what I’d like to work on today. Lucy mentioned how she can gauge your emotion through your eyes. Let’s take a
positive approach. It’s important we practice this before the formal dinner.”

  She walks to the front of the desk and leans her rear up against it. Her hands grip the edge, and I suspect it’s not only for balance but to release some frustration. “When you’re seated we won’t see anything below your chest, so we need to concentrate on your expression and non-verbal communication. Your shoulders can say a lot about you, so we’ll work on upper body language. Grant has arranged the six contestants you didn’t get to spend much time with yesterday to be seated close to you. It will give you a chance to interact with them. Tomorrow will be the first elimination. Are you ready?”

  “I can be.”

  “Good. Then we’ll start with a scenario. Imagine Monica has upset you by the way she’s coming on to you. This is how I want you to react.”

  Tori moves off the desk and sits in the chair beside me. Her knee rests against mine. I don’t react as my skin sparks where our legs touch. She places her hand on my thigh as though she’s flirting, and I damn like it. This bloody meeting is going to be harder than I thought.

  After an hour of extinguishing her “play” advances, I check the time and remind her about my wardrobe appointment. Before she responds I jump up and head toward the door. When I reach the doorway, I turn. “Thanks, Tori.” I pat the doorframe, wanting to say more, but I need to get the hell out of her office before my dick completely takes over my brain. Minutes ago her lips were so close to mine I could have kissed her. Instead, I held her gaze and spoke with a controlled, even voice, surprising myself. It was worth it to see her smile after each exercise. Her damn infectious smile had me playing her game like a puppy with a new toy, just to witness her face light up with delight like I was a good boy.

  RHETT

  After my hair and make-up is checked, Ingrid directs me back to the set. Compared to the contestants, my morning preparation was minimal. The ladies pampering started hours earlier with facials, manicures, make-up and hair styling. Their gowns were selected yesterday, so after receiving the royal treatment they are now perfectly groomed to look beautiful, no, irresistible to me.