by Tawna Fenske
“Yeah, perfect.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “You told her about me pouncing on you yesterday?”
He cocks his head. “Of course not. Why? What did she say?”
“She said you ordered snake-proofing for all the yards.”
“It’s a safety issue.” The smile he gives me shoots straight to my lady bits. “I don’t just mean my safety. Pretty sure you cracked one of my ribs.”
“God, I’m so s—”
“Nope.” He throws out a hand up to stop me, an easy smile gracing his handsome face. “I’m kidding. My ribs are fine. And I promise I didn’t tell Lana about being in your backseat. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thank you.” I take a few deep breaths to wash away any lingering humiliation. “You said you had some numbers to go over?”
“Right, that was just to get Lana out of here.” His smile dims just a little. “We heard from our troublemaker again.”
“Troublemaker?” I frown. “Oh, you mean the hacker? The guy who’s been sending flowers and weird notes and stuff.”
“That’s the one. Only there’s something different this time.”
“What?”
Dean’s jaw clenches. “This one’s about you.”
Chapter 5
CONFESSIONAL 141
Judson, Dean (CEO: Juniper Ridge)
Let’s see, biggest challenges so far…Well, we’re just getting things off the ground, so obviously there’s financing and negotiating with investors. Insurance and legal details, plus the logistics of building a whole damn town practically from scratch. Water, sewer, electricity—what? Personnel? I mean…yeah. Finding the right people is pretty fucking important. That’s one thing you don’t want to screw up. Nothing blows it all to hell like ending up with the wrong person.
I’m alone in my office with Vanessa Vincent, reminding myself that it’s no big deal. We’re going to be in this position thousands of times over the course of our working relationship.
That doesn’t stop me from thinking about other positions. The one in her backseat is top of mind.
“This came in today’s mail.” I hold out a postcard with the written side facing her. It’s typed, which is odd for a postcard, but that’s not the weirdest thing.
I watch her eyes as she scans the words.
“She’s trouble. This is not the person to hire if you know what’s good for you.”
She looks up at me, brown eyes curious. “You think it’s about me?”
I flip the card over, and she gasps. It’s a headshot of Vanessa as a teen. She’s wearing a fuzzy pink sweater and a fierce scowl that’s not even a little hidden by the dark curls falling over her face. I’ve never seen this picture before, but I’d know those brown eyes anywhere.
Seeing it has clearly knocked her off her stride. “Where did this—how did someone—”
“No idea. You’re familiar with the photo?”
She nods, looking slapped. “It’s from a bunch of headshots our mom made us do when we were sixteen. She wanted us to get back into showbiz, but I wasn’t interested.”
“That explains the pissed-off look.” Even pissed off, she’s stunning. I don’t say this out loud. I’ve gone through Mari’s damn sensitivity training.
“I look like a raging bitch,” Vanessa agrees. “Weirdly enough, it made some people want to work with me.”
“I thought you didn’t act again after Baby Spies.”
“If you can call that acting.” She snorts. “I refused to read for any of the roles. It’s one of the only times I stood up to my mom.”
I turn the photo back around for another look at it. The girl in the picture is young, but there are signs of the fire I’ve seen in this woman sitting in my office now. “I never came across this picture online.”
“Hardly anyone had access to it. Like I said, my re-entry into showbiz never got off the ground.”
“So how the hell did it end up here?”
She shakes her head, shock giving way to frustration. “I don’t have a clue. I can call my mom and ask if she’s given it out to anyone.” She starts to reach for it, then stops. “Wait. Do you need to have it dusted for fingerprints or anything?”
“This is a copy. I handed the real one off to our private investigator.”
Plucking the copy off the desk, she flips it and studies the words again. “Does he think he’ll be able to learn anything?”
“Not likely. Even if he could lift prints off a postcard, this was in our PO box. Probably dozens of postal workers touched it.”
Her brow furrows, and I watch her reach the same conclusion I already did. “I don’t understand.” She looks up at me, brown eyes bright and clear. “I interviewed days ago. You didn’t offer me the job until then. How would someone have time to mail a card like this?”
“Good question.” I steeple my hands on the desk, trying to decide how much to tell her. “We’ve been tight-lipped about who we’re interviewing for these positions. But if someone had the ability to hack into our email, they’d have learned you were our top candidate.”
“I see.” Her frown deepens, and I can’t help noticing how sexy she is when irritated. It’s no wonder directors wanted to cast her. “Are you thinking this whole vendetta thing is about me?”
I hesitate. “I don’t think so.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound very certain.”
“The initial threat came when we’d only just started advertising your job.”
“I applied the first day.”
I did consider that. “I still don’t think it’s about you.”
She doesn’t look convinced. As she flips over the card, I wonder if it’s so she doesn’t have to see her teenage scowl anymore. “Why would they pick that photo of all things? Where did they even get it?”
“Whoever this guy is, he’s showing off. Letting us know he can get to us from a lot of different angles.”
She looks me in the eye, unflinching. “Do you have any theories who’d do this?”
I shrug. “The Judsons have plenty of enemies. It could be any one of them.”
I watch her face as she processes this. “Or someone tied to the Benevolent Order of the New Kingdom.” She sets the card back on the desk and grips the armrest of my desk chair. “Weren’t they still trying to get the land back?”
That had crossed my mind. “There are a few outspoken kooks. The ones who didn’t end up in prison, I mean.”
I can see the wheels turning in her head. “I assume your PI is working on this?”
“Yeah. We also brought the local police into the loop last week. One of their Lieutenants is our top contender to be the police chief at Juniper Ridge, so she’s been looking things over.”
I should give her a copy of this card. Lieutenant Amy Lovelin is on my list to call today, along with a thousand other people. I could ask one of my siblings to help, but I don’t want to scare anyone unnecessarily. It’s best if I handle this myself.
Vanessa glances around the office. I follow her gaze with mine, trying to see the space through her eyes. The expensive leather sofa that looks like no one’s ever sat on it. Just yesterday, Lana tried to add a bunch of bright orange throw pillows, but I shooed her out. Above that is a framed family photo on a polished black shelf. Vanessa’s gaze lingers there a moment, then shifts to the corner of my desk.
I watch her survey my mug, my special edition red Swingline stapler, the remote control for my office television. They’re lined up in a perfect row, and my ex-fiancée’s voice whispers in the back of my head.
“You’re such a control-freak, Dean. Loosen up. You work too much.”
“This must be a special mug?” Vanessa picks it up, and I fight the urge to grab for it.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not sentimental or anything.” I watch her set it back down a good five inches from where it rested before, and it’s all I can do not to move it back to where it was. “I’ve had it a really long time. It holds the exact right amoun
t of coffee.”
“Huh.” Her gaze shifts to the remote control and her brows lift. “Your TV remote is attached to your desk?”
I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. “I hate when it wanders off.”
I hate even more when other people mess with my TV stations or the volume, but no way I’m admitting that. She already thinks I’m a creep after what happened in her backseat. I still can’t believe I got a hard-on. That I grabbed her ass and—
“Has the PI swept for bugs?”
I blink. “What?”
“Bugs. Listening devices. I was just wondering if someone might be listening in somehow.”
Well, shit. “It hasn’t come up.” Probably should have. “Maybe I should fire the PI and hire you to do all the investigating.”
She laughs and slips out of her chair, dropping onto the floor like she does this sort of thing all the time. “Don’t they usually stick them under tables and stuff?” Her voice echoes under my desk as she crawls beneath. “Or is that just in movies?”
Her hand brushes my foot, and I jump like someone hit me with a cattle prod. This should definitely not turn me on. “Do you even know what a bug looks like?” My voice croaks weirdly.
“No, but I keep a mini recorder in my purse. Maybe something like that?”
“Smaller.” I suck in a breath as her body heat seeps through my pantleg and radiates up, headed for parts growing less small by the moment. “They’re actually pretty tiny.”
“Well, I know what nails and screws and wood look like,” she calls. “If I see something other than that, I’ll consider it suspicious.”
And I’ll consider it a miracle if I don’t pass out before she’s back in her chair. “Vanessa, I think you should—”
“Whoa, I can come back later.” Cooper skids to a halt in my doorway, eyes boggling at Vanessa’s backside sticking out from under my desk.
Oh, God. “No, that’s not—It’s not what you—”
“Hey, I’m Vanessa.” She pops out from under the desk, spitting her hair out of her mouth. “You must be Cooper?”
Of course he’s Cooper. His face has graced the cover of every magazine on the planet, but I appreciate Vanessa pretending this is normal.
“Pleased to meet you.” My younger brother shakes her hand and does a lousy job wiping the smirk off his face. “You’re the new money geek?”
“That’s what it’ll say on my business cards.” She grins and turns to me. “Look what I found.”
She holds up something that looks a bit like a watch battery, only with weird wires poking out of it. “It was stuck to the underside of your desk. I’m assuming it’s not yours?”
I shake my head as she sets it down in front of me. Picking it up between my thumb and forefinger, I hold it up to the light. “Ever seen a bug before, Coop?”
“What, like a listening device?” The stupid grin vanishes as he steps into my office. “I did that spy film a few years back. I’m guessing the technology’s changed, but yeah—that does look like a bug.”
“Huh.” I should probably stop touching the damn thing. Setting it down on my desk, I pull out my phone and snap a few quick pics. “I’ll send these to the PI.”
Cooper’s brow furrows. “What, you think someone’s eavesdropping now?”
“No idea. But I won’t feel good about this until we have the whole place swept for bugs.”
“Good call.” He turns his attention back to Vanessa. “So you’ll be keeping this bastard in line, huh?”
She quirks an eyebrow at me. “I don’t recall seeing that in the job description, but I’m up to the task.”
Grinning, Cooper starts to back out of my office. “He’s an overbearing son-of-a-bitch but he’s good at his job. Also, we love him.”
Vanessa glances at me, assessing. “I was raised by an overbearing bitch. Does that trump the son of one?”
“Maybe so.” Cooper laughs. “I didn’t mean to insult Mom.”
I’m only half listening as I fire off a text to the PI. I attach the photos, then set down my phone and address Vanessa across the desk. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling great about analyzing sensitive data in here.”
“Agreed.” She settles back in her chair and crosses her legs. “How about one of the studios or something?”
“Two are occupied, and one’s being painted right now.” Cooper snaps his fingers. “Shit, that’s what I came here to ask you—Gabe and I want to bring out that beer guy for an interview. You have any issues with us showing him the brewing facility?”
I struggle not to flinch. Not to fret about my kid brother being tempted to drink again. “That’s fine. I want to be part of it. Can you add it to my calendar?”
“Aye-aye, Captain.” He gives me a mock salute as he retreats for real. Before he slips out of sight, he puts a hand over his heart and makes a swooning gesture toward Vanessa.
I’m not sure if Coop’s half in love with her or suggesting I might be, but either way, I want to throw something at him. Vanessa’s looking at me, so she misses my brother’s stupid gesture, but she doesn’t miss the glare I shoot him.
Her expression melts into something softer. “You’re making me miss my sister.”
For some reason, this charms the hell out of me. “You’re twins, right?”
“Yep. She’s traveling with her husband, doing this TV show where she makes wedding dresses all over the world. We talk every day, but I miss seeing her.”
I love that she’s close with her sister. It’s one of those things we’d never put in a job description, but that grasp of human connection is what Mari says is crucial to making this show work. “All right. The studios are off-limits, and I don’t trust the conference room until my PI gets in here with a bug sweeper. How do you feel about one of the picnic tables out in the meadow?”
Vanessa frowns. “Normally, I love the outdoors. But didn’t Lana say they’re doing snake-proofing today?”
Crap, she’s right. I open my mouth to suggest my cabin, then shut it again. That’s exactly what we don’t need. “I don’t suppose the bumper cars are a good spot to have a budget meeting?”
She laughs. “I like how you think, but maybe not ideal for spreadsheets. What about the waterpark?”
It’s my turn to shoot her a baffled look. “You’ve got a waterproof laptop or something?”
Rolling her eyes, she gets to her feet. “We don’t need to be in the water. But Lana showed it to me on the tour, and there’s that indoor area next to the big slide. I saw a bunch of tables there.”
“Right, yeah. That’ll work.” I get to my feet, appreciating Vanessa’s ability to think on hers. “Sounds like a plan.”
She falls into step beside me as I head down the hall and toward the lodge’s side exit. The high desert sun blazes warm and bright as we make our way along the crushed cinder pathway toward the building that houses the waterpark. Sunlight glints in her dark hair, and something warm sloshes in my belly. I’m not sure if I’m smelling desert wildflowers or Vanessa, but I’m enjoying it either way.
“I can’t get over the idea that I have a waterpark just a few hundred yards from my house.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Bumper cars, too.”
“There’s a lot of weird stuff the BONK members built out here,” I admit. “Even a bomb shelter under one of those big wheat fields to the north. It can hold several hundred people in a pinch.”
“Wow.” A thick wave of chlorine smacks into us as she pulls open the door, and I’m transported back to childhood summers at my family’s estate. “I had no idea most of this stuff was out here. I watched the news when BONK was getting shut down, but I’d written them off as just a crazy cult. I didn’t realize they were so….”
“Organized?”
“Resourceful.” She beelines it toward the tables at the far edge of the space. I follow her past the indoor wave pool and a smaller, shallower pool filled with play equipment for kids.
Vanessa picks her way around spoutin
g fountains toward the five-story enclosed waterslide that empties into a deep pool of turquoise. There’s a table close to the edge, and she sets down her bag and pulls out her laptop. “Thanks for sending over those advertiser profiles last night. It’s helpful to know what we’ve got to work with.”
I take a seat across from her and set down my own laptop. “Some of the advertisers have very specific requirements for the sort of content they’d like tied to their brands.”
“I can imagine.” She cocks her head. “Isn’t it tough to control that in reality television?”
“There are always ways to control things.”
Something flashes in her eyes, and I wish I could take back my words.
“Good to know,” she says simply, and goes back to powering up her laptop.
I clear my throat and toggle to my desktop files. “I’m AirDropping you some of the storyboard stuff that Gabe and Lauren put together. There aren’t any guarantees with unscripted reality TV, but this should give you an idea what sort of content we’re aiming for.”
“Got it.” She slips a pair of glasses out of her purse, then reaches in again and pulls out a full-sized bag of tortilla chips. “Want some?”
“Uh—thanks.” I glance at the purse, wondering what else she’s got in there. “I forgot lunch.”
“I’ve got salsa, too.” She extracts a sealed jar and pops the top, then reaches back into her bag. “Apple or pear?”
“Are you traveling with an entire grocery store?”
She laughs and sets both pieces of fruit on the table. “I like being prepared.”
I can’t imagine how heavy her purse must be, but I’m grateful for the snacks. I bite into the apple, savoring the crisp tartness as Vanessa gets to work opening the document. “Just give me a couple minutes to skim through this.”
“Take your time.” I should probably fire off another message to the PI or the police, but I catch myself watching Vanessa instead. I love how she’s hit the ground running. How she’s taking charge and fitting right in.
