Blue Collar Romeo

by Jenny Gardiner

  She laughed. “Just as well. But truly, Tomasso, this is unbelievable. And you kept this from me this whole time.”

  “Well, as much as I’d have loved it, it’s not like I could up and move a ten-foot wooden statue to the artist’s loft in your place. That made it much easier to keep it from you. Besides, I was worried you’d hate it.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Why would I ever hate something so beautiful, crafted with your masterful hands?”

  “Well, your mermaid doppelganger is getting herself off on a wooden mount while toying with her breasts.”

  Gisele laughed. “I should be so lucky to have the opportunity.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “But it is giving me ideas.” She shrugged off her coat and began pushing his down his arms. “You don’t mind if we have an audience do you?”

  They both turned to look at the mermaid, who seemed a bit preoccupied. “I’m pretty sure she’d approve,” he said as he lifted Gisele’s shirt. “Birds of a feather and all.”

  “Or mermaids.”

  “Let’s give her something to talk about.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Captain.”

  He smiled. “And as long as we can please each other, I think things will be just fine.”

  “Then shut up and start pleasing.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  Thank you so much for reading Blue Collar Romeo! I hope you enjoyed it! If so, please help others find this book:

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  Silver Spoon Romeo

  by Jenny Gardiner

  Chapter One

  Sophie Pellegrino had grown weary of famous people who did idiotic things. Which didn’t bode well for her professionally, considering she’d been producing a sort of soul-exposing (and not in a good way), mea culpa-type of reality show that featured celebrities who’d landed themselves in a pickle for all sorts of embarrassing reasons. Usually it was bad behavior induced by too much Cuervo, recreational drugs, arrogance, or a combination thereof, and sometimes it was out of sheer stupidity: just because you were a famous celebrity didn’t mean you had a brain that served you well.

  She’d produced stories about an actress found running naked down Rodeo Drive while shouting like a fishmonger that her actor-boyfriend was having sex with the Dalai Lama (she claimed a bad case of exhaustion). And the famous reality TV shrink who it turned out had three families in three different countries (he chalked it up to too many anxiety meds).

  Then there was the married actor and father of three who got caught on camera in a compromising position with a child star on the set of his latest film (he was a big fan of Ecstasy, both the drug and the state of). Sophie just shook her head on that one, wondering what the hell was wrong with the man that he couldn’t see that nothing good was going to come of that once he got busted. And they always got caught. Which boded well for her show: there was never a dearth of sordid stories with which to regale her audience. She sometimes wondered if celebrities did some of this stuff just to remain relevant, which would be sort of pathetic but not too surprising. Sometimes those who feasted at the banquet of fame starved to death without it, and were willing to settle for notoriety instead.

  She was beginning to feel like she needed a long, hot soak after work each night, not so much to relax, but rather to cleanse the figurative muck off of her after dealing with so many unseemly people who thought fame was a license to behave not just badly but abhorrently.

  So the timing could not have been better when her boss announced some big changes were looming.

  “Soph, I’ve got some great news for you.” Danny Slinger spoke like a human machine gun in a rapid-fire New York-accented banter as he slurped what was probably his eighth cup of high-octane coffee before noon. His mussed-up, salt-and-pepper hair hung over his eyes as if he couldn’t be bothered to get it trimmed, and he was missing a button in his shirt. Among her best friends, Sophie tended to refer to Danny as a bit of a schlub, since he never seemed to put a scintilla of effort into personal maintenance. Nevertheless, she respected him professionally in spades. “You’re getting your own show. Starting immediately—you’re going to produce and host a lifestyles program featuring fantasy destinations.”

  Sophie squinted and cocked her head. “Is this a joke? Cause seriously, I don’t think I can handle it if you tell me in five minutes you were just pulling my leg.”

  Danny took another swig of his coffee, his hyper-caffeinated brain causing the mug to tremble in his hands. “Would I lie to you?”

  He mouth spread into one of those annoying grins you see when your poker opponent tells you he has four Jacks to beat your full house. The kind of smug look you’d usually want to wipe off a guy’s face. Only for Danny it all worked.

  “Uh, yeah,” she said. “Remember that time you told me you’d landed that divorce-bound Brad Pitt interview and I was going to be in charge of it?”

  He rolled his eyes and slapped the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Are you that dense?” He fixed his gaze on her. “It was April Fool’s Day. You should’ve known that was a lie. Besides, don’t you think I’d have taken on someone of his magnitude if we’d actually gotten him?”

  “My first clue should have been that Brangelina—minus the ‘ngelina’—would never do an interview for one of your tawdry shows.”

  He clutched his hands to his heart. “You’re killing me, Pellegrino.” He half pushed her away and fake-staggered a few steps. “Here I do you a solid and what do I get but disrespect?”

  Sophie lifted her eyebrows in hope. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’re actually serious?”

  “As a heart attack. Which you’re going to give me if you turn this down.”

  “Are you kidding? I was beginning to think we needed to install a disinfectant room so that we could all cleanse ourselves after the show, the program’s gotten so icky. I would love nothing more than to get away from Gotcha with my soul intact.”

  “Trust me when I say we could never have become so icky without you. Consider this your reward for a job well done. You found the bottom of the barrel and you made it look like a Park Avenue penthouse. But I do recognize it’s time to let my baby bird fly from the nest.”

  “You mean that shit-encrusted nest to which I’d have become glued if I stayed much longer?”

  “One man’s bird crap is another man’s Emmy award-winning programming.”

  Sophie tipped her head in disbelief. “Daniel Slinger: you never earned an Emmy for that program.”

  “I’m just saying it’s possible. Just because you think my show is catering to the lowest common denominator doesn’t mean that those unwashed masses who inhale every episode and obsess about it on social media for days afterward don’t think the show is a class act.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “More like a class action lawsuit waiting to happen.” She waved her hands as if to erase the conversation. “But enough about that. I want to hear what you’ve got going for me. By the way, I feel the need to get it in writing that I no longer have to interview some pathetic attention-seeking D-level celebrity who’s just been sprung from his fourth stint in rehab after going on a joyride with a monkey at the wheel while under the influence of a controlled substance.”

  Danny rubbed his hands together with glee. “That was one of our best shows this year!”

  “Stop!” Sophie clasped at her head with her fingers.

  “Okay, okay.” He held his hands up in surrender. “So here’s the deal. The men in suits want to take things in a new direction. They like your style and they want to give you free rein to show us what you can do. It’s going to be an aspir
ational type of show—your viewers are going to want to be there in your shoes. Maybe even want to kill you to replace you in those shoes.”

  “So like a gladiator-style show? To the death and all that?”

  Danny curled his lip in annoyance. “So little faith, my dear. It’s like you don’t think I have your best interest at heart.” He petted her head. “Trust in the process, Grasshopper.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. It’s just hard to transition from sludge—I can’t fathom a world of purity and joy.”

  “Well, then, prepare yourself. Because this is your baby to do with as you please. Think about what you would love to do—put your passion behind it. And then make a show out of it. Sky’s the limit.”

  She looked skyward. “Seriously? Anything? Anywhere?”

  “Within reason and within budget. Like we’re not going to send you up in the Space Shuttle.”

  “Thank god.”

  “So give it some thought and get back to me. The executives are ready to move forward with this, so I’m giving you the weekend to decide. The important thing to know is that you’re in charge: it’s your baby, and you’re the host. And don’t fuck it up or my next show will be that gladiator-style one with me feeding you to the lions.” He slurped some more coffee as he pointed toward the door. “Now go.”

  ~*~

  “Oh, my god,” Gisele said as she took a sip of her wine. They’d gone to their favorite wine bar after work to discuss details of Sophie’s new assignment. “This is like your dream. Like your dream of dreams. Like if someone asked you what your impossible-to-attain fantasy job would be, this would be it.”

  “I know. I keep pinching myself to be sure I’m not just sleeping.”

  “So what’re you going to do?”

  “With the sky being the limit, it’s awfully hard to narrow it down to something more speicfic. I feel like I’ve been given a chance to eat the finest meal I’ve ever had but only get one stab at it—do I go for the sumptuous lobster thermidor or the potentially lethal Japanese pufferfish?”

  Gisele held up her finger. “I think I can solve your problem. See, I was about to ask for some time off to go visit Tomasso.” She’d recently fallen in love with Tomasso Romeo, a member of the Romeo family, which had run the world-famous Italian vineyard Cantine dei Marchesi Romeo for centuries. He’d been living in Manhattan under her roof while on a woodworking apprenticeship, but had recently returned home and she’d been pining for him badly. “Why don’t you take the show to Chianti? Do a big thing with the Romeo family. Everyone knows Romeo wines, but does everyone know about the opulent lifestyle that comes with being a Romeo? Not to mention don’t you think your audience—primarily women—would swoon madly for the Romeo men? One more handsome than the next?”

  Justin Magruder, Sophie’s long-time production assistant, piped in. “Now you’re speaking my language. Hot Italian men. Sign me up.”

  The women laughed, and Sophie crossed her arms and rested her hand in her chin in thought. “Italy...” she said. “I could combine this with a search for my Italian roots. And my love of wine, and, well, my love of men, Italian or otherwise.”

  Justin fist-bumped her. “I’m with you, sister.”

  “Plus, I mean, all the biggest celebs hang there. George Clooney. Didn’t Tom Cruise have one of his weddings there? Beyoncé, she’s always on a damned yacht somewhere in Italy.”

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Gisele said, her blue eyes sparkling. She lifted her brow and tucked her long, wavy, blond hair behind her ears.

  “Road trip to Tuscany?” Justin said as he flagged the waiter down and ordered a bottle of Prosecco.

  When the waiter brought back the bottle and uncorked it with a pop, Justin stood up.

  “This calls for a toast.” He lifted his glass and held it to Sophie and Gisele’s. “Here’s to the best damned team Gotcha ever had and is now going to lose to the big leagues.” He waved his fingers. “Sayonara Gotcha. And here’s hoping we are drowning in the best wine and the best men Italy has to offer.”

  “Sorry, dude, I’ve already found my guy,” Gisele said with a grin.

  “Fine then maybe share some of that football team of a family with us. Sophie and I are looking for some Romeo man-meat. Amiright, Soph?”

  She laughed. “One thing at a time. I want to do this right, so job first, and with any luck the wine and men will follow.”

  Silver Spoon Romeo

  coming June 13, 2017.

  Available now for pre-order!

  About the Author

  Jenny Gardiner is the author of #1 Kindle Bestseller Slim to None and the award-winning novel Sleeping with Ward Cleaver. Her latest works are the It’s Reigning Men series, featuring Something in the Heir; Heir Today Gone Tomorrow; Bad to the Throne; Love is in the Heir; Shame of Thrones; Throne for a Loop; It’s Getting Hot in Heir; A Court Gesture; and her new Royal Romeos series, featuring Red-Hot Romeo; Black Sheep Romeo, Red Carpet Romeo, Blue Collar Romeo, and the upcoming Silver Spoon Romeo. She also published the memoir Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me, now re-titled Bite Me: a Parrot, a Family and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds; the novels Anywhere but Here; Where the Heart Is; the essay collection Naked Man on Main Street, and Accidentally on Purpose and Compromising Positions (writing as Erin Delany); and is a contributor to the humorous dog anthology I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in This Relationship.

  Her work has been found in Ladies Home Journal, the Washington Post, Marie-Claire.com, and on NPR’s Day to Day. She was also a columnist for Charlottesville’s Daily Progress for over a decade, and is the Volunteer Coordinator for the Virginia Film Festival.

  She has worked as a professional photographer, an orthodontic assistant (learning quite readily that she was not cut out for a career in polyester), a waitress (probably her highest-paying job), a TV reporter, a pre-obituary writer, as well as a publicist to a United States Senator (where she first learned to write fiction). She's photographed Prince Charles (and her assistant husband got him to chuckle!), Elizabeth Taylor, and the president of Uganda. She and her family and menagerie of pets now live a less exotic life in Virginia.

  Visit Jenny at her website and sign up for her newsletter, her blog, or find her on Facebook and Twitter. And every blue moon she’ll post adorable pictures of her pets on Instagram as @thejennygardiner.

  Also by Jenny Gardiner

  Confessions of a Chick Magnet

  Skirt Chaser (Coming Soon)

  Falling for Mr. Wrong

  Falling for Mr. Wrong

  Falling for Mr. Maybe

  Falling for Mr. No Way In Hell

  Falling for Mr. Sometimes

  Falling for Mr. Right

  It's Reigning Men

  Something in the Heir

  Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow

  Bad to the Throne

  Love is in the Heir

  Shame of Thrones

  Throne for a Loop

  It's Getting Hot in Heir

  A Court Gesture

  It's Reigning Men - Books 1 - 3

  The Royal Romeos

  Red Hot Romeo

  Black Sheep Romeo

  Red Carpet Romeo

  Blue Collar Romeo

  Silver Spoon Romeo

  Blue-Blooded Romeo

  Big O Romeo

  Standalone

  Sleeping with Ward Cleaver

  Where the Heart Is

  Accidentally on Purpose

  Compromising Positions

  Naked Man on Main Street

  Bite Me - A Parrot, a Family, and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds

  Anywhere but Here

  Slim to None

  Watch for more at Jenny Gardiner’s site.

 

 

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