by Cora Seton
“Oh, yes,” Felicity countered, her grin growing wider. “I think it’s high time we really shook up your life.”
Chapter Two
‡
“I got the strangest call yesterday,” Renata announced, making Kai jump when she slipped into the kitchen behind him. How she’d managed to sneak up on him was anyone’s guess; her ridiculous high heels tippity-tapped everywhere she went. For a second he thought someone had tipped her off to the state of their food supply, but he quickly realized that wasn’t likely. As far as he knew, Angus had only told Boone so far. Kai was supposed to sneak away and meet up with them later to brainstorm ideas for how to guard the gardens and greenhouses. Then they’d tell the others.
“Oh yeah?” He turned back to the ingredients he’d laid out for a breakfast quiche.
“Yeah. Guess who it was?”
“I don’t know, Renata.” If he didn’t keep working, breakfast wouldn’t be served on time. She’d already thrown off his flow. In his head he’d been narrating the cooking process, as if he were already on a televised cooking show, talking about using local vegetables in season—
“David Linkley.”
Kai stopped. Turned around. “Why’d he call you?”
“Because we go way back, and when one of the stars of my show tries to make a deal with another network while still working for me, he figured I’d want to know about it.”
Hell. Not good, Kai thought as he searched for a way to answer Renata without incensing her any more. She was right; he’d approached Linkley recently, hoping to interest the man in his cooking show project.
“I’m just planning for the future. Base Camp will be done long before I start anything new.” He hadn’t done anything wrong putting out some feelers. Anyone working a television job had to be thinking about what came next.
David Linkley had reached out to Renata. That was interesting.
The man was a kingmaker among cooking shows. Had he liked Kai’s hook?
Or hated it?
“You don’t know that,” Renata pointed out. “Maybe there’ll be a sequel. Base Camp 2—Sustainable Babies.”
A sequel?
He’d never thought of that—and he’d bet no one else had, either. All the men and women at Base Camp were planning for their futures. Since none of them had wanted to be on a reality television show in the first place, he doubted any of them would miss it when it was over.
“A sequel won’t work. It won’t hold an audience—there wouldn’t be a bad guy to make things interesting.” During this “season” of the show, Base Camp’s very existence was in question. Fulsom wouldn’t be able to pull that off twice. “I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes, Renata,” he went on. “I’m new to the whole television thing, but I’m aiming for a future in it. I think I’ve got something to tell the world.”
“Why the hell didn’t you bring your idea to me?” she demanded.
“You’re busy. And you do reality TV. I need someone who focuses on cooking shows.” It would take an expert in the field to help raise him above all the other contenders.
“You’re looking to be a hit.” She nodded. “I can see that. You just might make it, the way you’re pursuing it.”
Her compliment caught him off guard. Usually Renata was looking for a way to stick the knife in your jugular.
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” she went on. “I’ll tell David he can work with you to film a pilot episode—on two conditions. One, you don’t even think about going into production on a series before this show ends.”
“Of course.” Kai’s pulse kicked up. Renata was going to help him? That could be the break he needed—
“And two, we document every step of the process as you try to get your show.”
“No. I’m not wearing a bikini. And I’m not getting a spray tan,” Addison said, her voice skidding up the scale to almost a shriek. She had a thing about bikinis. Her body didn’t fit in them right. Not like Felicity’s. Kai was going to look at this video. Even if she never found out what he thought about it, this was torture, because she could imagine a million reactions he might have to seeing her bathing-suit-clad body.
None of them good.
“Wait—was that a no I heard? Evan—get that listing up!” Felicity called.
“Evan isn’t even here,” Addison pointed out. They were still alone in Felicity’s enormous penthouse; Evan was out of town for the weekend. Addison had woken up cranky. This yes thing was getting out of hand.
Last night she’d tossed and turned thinking about Felicity’s latest campaign to drive her crazy. She could barely admit how much it hurt to have her secret attachment to Base Camp and Kai tampered with like this. She should tell her sister, but that meant admitting that she preferred a fantasy world to her reality. Felicity would jump all over that and tell her it was exactly why she needed to change her situation.
“Do you want the penthouse or not?”
“Yes. Yes, I want the damn penthouse. Fine, I’ll wear a bikini and humiliate myself. This is never going to work, you know.” She eyed the tiny swimsuit Felicity passed to her. Could it possibly contain her breasts, or would they spring free at the first jiggle and take out someone’s eye?
“It’s definitely going to work. Now, come on; we’ve got to get to the studio.”
Felicity grabbed her purse and keys, leaving Addison to trail behind her, asking, “What studio? Felicity? What studio?”
“Cam’s—my friend. The one I told you about.”
“The independent film producer? The one who won that award?” She struggled to keep up as Felicity strode toward the elevator.
“That’s right. He’s totally broke, so he’s going to produce this film for peanuts. Just go with the flow, okay? Act natural. You’ll be fine.”
“I can’t believe you’re getting him to help make this film,” Addison said. “I’m supposed to submit a little video—something I record on my phone. Isn’t this overkill?” Please let Felicity agree, she begged whatever deity was listening. It was one thing if Kai turned down a grainy homemade video she shot.
Another thing altogether to have a professional video tossed away.
What if they showed Kai’s reactions to her video on the show? What if she had to watch him watch her—?
“Sometimes overkill is what it takes,” Felicity said.
Addison was still in shock an hour and a half later as she stood in front of a green screen, dressed in a string bikini, holding a surf board and a pair of knitting needles.
“I love the sea, and I love knitting, too,” she read off the teleprompter Cam had placed several feet in front of her. “I combine my two hobbies by creating ocean-themed knit caps for surfers. Everyone knows you lose most of your heat through your head, so when you’ve been catching too many waves, and hypothermia’s setting in, reach for a—” she swallowed hard “—for an Addison Surf Cap and warm your vibe!”
Five bulked-up men in wetsuits peeled down to their waists to expose their muscular, wet chests and walked in front of the camera, each of them sporting a colorful knitted cap.
Addison choked. “Are you kidding me, Felicity? I can’t say, warm your vibe. And where’d these guys come from? Where’d you get the hats?”
“Cut! Cut!” Cam called. “This is amateur hour,” he accused Felicity. “You said one take and we’d be done.”
“Darling, relax. This is art we’re making,” Felicity soothed him and turned to Addison. “Sweetie, we’re trying to woo Kai Green—surf god. I did some research. Apparently, he likes his women to be creative, free thinkers. He wants them to care about others. We’re killing two birds with one stone.”
“This is—”
“A yes,” Felicity reminded her. “From the top. Remember, you’re not Addison Reynolds; you’re Addison Jones. I’ve got a friend working on your website and social media accounts. Kai will never know who you really are.”
With a groan, Addison took her place again and shrieked when Cam chucke
d a bucketful of water at her. “It’ll have more verisimilitude,” he told Felicity as Addison gasped and flicked water from her fingertips.
More something, Addison thought. It was cold in here. She was soaked. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and managed to jab her ear with a knitting needle.
Her fantasy man was going to see her nipples.
She was never going to watch Base Camp again.
“I’ve got three women for you to choose from,” Boone announced to Kai several days later. He leaned in the kitchen doorway, and Kai began to think he needed another job—one that hid him far out on the ranch where no one could easily find him. Boone wasn’t letting up about this bride thing, and Renata had a cameraman focused on him twenty-four seven. He had a feeling it was only going to get worse. It didn’t help he was short of sleep. He’d been one of the men patrolling last night after the film crew went home. He’d steal a catnap this afternoon, but he was far from sharp right now.
“Only three?” That was a blow to his ego. Kai went back to work churning milk into butter. He had a new respect for his forebears. This chore took way too much time every day.
“I narrowed them down for you. Time’s a ticking.” Boone tapped his watch. “You’ve already lost five of your forty days.”
“Narrowed them down?” He didn’t like the idea of Boone sorting through women for him. What did Boone know about his preferences—his real preferences, not the baloney he’d spouted when Boone had asked him to come up with characteristics for his future wife?
“Yep. See if you like any of them.” Boone set the laptop he was carrying on the kitchen counter, opened it up and showed him three links. “Each one has a video. If none of them suit, I’ll send you more. I just have a good feeling about these ladies.”
“Later, okay? I’m pretty busy here.” He indicated the churn. He couldn’t say what made him want to put this off. Maybe because every time he dated it was disaster—and it didn’t help that a cameraman was practically breathing down his neck, focusing on the laptop on the counter.
“Take your time, and let me know what you think when you get a chance to watch them. But watch them soon, okay?”
Kai managed to ignore the laptop for ten minutes after Boone left, frustrating the cameraman behind him, if his sighs and fidgeting sounds were anything to go on. Kai needed to finish the butter then get busy prepping a stir-fry for lunch. He felt it his duty to feed healthy meals to the men and women in his charge. He’d noticed Savannah was looking a little pale these days. She was about five and a half months pregnant, so he’d add lots of beet greens and chard to the mix. That would help her iron levels.
He glanced over at the laptop, still lifting the plunger of the churn up and down. He supposed watching the videos wouldn’t take long. He imagined a few seconds of each of them would tell him if there was any spark or not.
He reached out, preparing to click on the first video. The cameraman behind him moved closer.
Kai snatched his hand back. Knowing an audience would watch him watch these videos was creepy.
He’d look later, he decided. After the butter was done. After lunch. When he was alone.
If he was ever alone again.
Kai went back to churning.
He glanced over his shoulder a few minutes later. The cameraman was still hovering. He couldn’t help glance at the laptop again, too. What kind of women answered wife-wanted ads anyway? Desperate ones?
Weird ones?
Serial killers?
Kai lifted the plunger up and down, but his gaze kept straying to where the laptop perched on the counter. Finally, he slammed his plunger down. Better just watch the damn things before he overthought it. Audience or no audience.
He moved the laptop closer, tapped the keyboard to bring it back to life and clicked the top link. The cameraman inched even closer.
A woman in business attire with short cropped curly hair and a pleasant smile, standing in front of a full bookcase, said, “Hi, I’m Linda, and I’m a successful author of self-help books. I teach my clients and readers all about productivity. How to increase their output and the output of their employees, as well—”
Kai killed the video and clicked the next one, even as he acknowledged Linda was everything he’d said he wanted: creative, productive, sensible.
Sane.
But he felt absolutely no spark. And he couldn’t marry without that. Couldn’t spend a lifetime with a woman he had no passion for.
This time a woman appeared in jeans, work boots, a flannel shirt and a hard hat. She was cute in a healthy, strong, outdoorsy way.
“Hi, I’m Candice, and I work in the construction field. I’m a whiz with most tools and would love to join Base Camp and learn all about sustainable building—”
Hell, even better. A woman with skills that could be useful here at Base Camp. She was strong, sensible, creative and sane, too—
But Kai still didn’t feel even the inkling of a spark. Both the women in the videos were so… independent. What did they need a husband for?
Probably a messed-up way of thinking about marriage, Kai told himself. Men and women were supposed to be equals. Where did need come in? And why did he even want a woman who needed him?
Kai stood hunched over the laptop for a second, not wanting to follow that train of thought. Did he think a woman who needed him would be less likely to leave?
Hell.
A pressure in his chest pushed against his heart. Was he flawed in a way that couldn’t be fixed?
Was he going to ruin Base Camp for everyone?
Focus on the now, he told himself. Watch the video. No sense borrowing trouble.
He reluctantly clicked the last link, then bent closer to the screen as a woman appeared in a close-up shot. Her hair was a shimmering silver fading to dark brown. Her gray eyes stared out from an elfin face. This woman didn’t match his description at all. Why had Boone included her?
Had Boone seen right through him?
As the video panned out, Kai saw she wore a string bikini—a wet string bikini that left little to the imagination, he noted, his body immediately thrumming with interest—and had one arm looped around a vintage surf board his friends back in Long Beach would kill to try out. In her other hand she held a pair of knitting needles.
There was something about her that hooked him immediately. A glance she sent at someone off-camera, a mixture of humor, desperation and exasperated disbelief he found endearing. Whoever it was must have sent a message back to get going with her video, because she turned to face the lens head on and affected a bright, cheerful pose.
“Hi, I’m Addison. I love the sea, and I love knitting, too. I combine my two hobbies by creating ocean-themed knit caps for surfers. Everyone knows you lose most of your heat through your head, so when you’ve been catching too many waves, and hypothermia’s setting in, reach for an Addison Surf Cap and warm your vibe!”
Kai’s mouth tugged up at the corner, even as his gaze dipped to her breasts again.
Addison was sexy, funny, off-beat, loony as a loco-weed.
And Kai wanted her—
Bad.
“I’m at work. I’m not saying yes to anything,” Addison hissed into her phone. She’d been ignoring its buzz all morning, knowing it was Felicity. She’d taken a lot of crap about her hair when she came into work on Monday, although several of the women admitted they loved it when they met up with her in the break room. Management did not love it and had suggested, although not in so many words, she might want to dye it back to its normal shade.
Addison couldn’t do that because Felicity made her check in each night on a video chat to make sure she hadn’t. This whole thing was getting way out of hand. Currently her hair was tucked into a tight bun, and she sported a wide headband that covered most of the ombre parts. She wasn’t sure if she’d made things better or worse.
The week had dragged by so slowly she could have been working on a chain gang under a desert sun. Every da
y she agonized over the video they’d sent in. Would Kai see it? What would he think? Would they put it on the show so everyone else she knew could ridicule her?
“You won’t believe what I’m looking at,” Felicity said.
“A mocha latte?” She would kill for a mocha latte. A mocha latte spiked with vodka. Or something even stronger. Something that would knock her out long enough by the time she woke up this nightmare would be over.
“A marriage proposal.”
“You already have a husband.” Addison pulled out the Delaney file, wishing she could offload it on a newer hire, but her boss had—
“Wait. What did you just say?” Addison’s heart stopped.
“A marriage proposal. Well, okay—not quite. But it’s an invitation to come on Base Camp. From Kai Green. You did it! You’re going to be on the show! He thinks he wants to marry you!”
Addison sat back, letting the file slip from her fingers. “Felicity—” What had they done? She’d thought being turned down would be the worst thing that could happen to her.
But being asked onto the show? So that Kai could reject her in real time? “I don’t want to be on TV,” she cried. “Kai doesn’t want me; he’s looking for a wife.”
“A fake wife,” Felicity corrected her. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Reality TV shows are totally fake. No one really expects you to actually marry him.”
Addison couldn’t keep up. This was even worse. A moment before she’d been worried Kai would reject her. Now she was worried it wouldn’t be real if they did tie the knot.
But of course it wouldn’t be real. Kai Green wasn’t going to marry her—no matter what.
“But they have weddings all the time on the show,” she protested weakly. She had to make her sister see she couldn’t go near Base Camp. She was supposed to win a year in Felicity’s penthouse. That was the goal. Marrying Kai was—
A fantasy. Pure and simple. It would never happen, real or fake. And going on Base Camp had nothing to do with her real life—or her dreams. It took place on a ranch, for God’s sake. Where there were bison. And people slept in tents.
