by Tawna Fenske
Stop staring at her, you fucking creep.
I drag my gaze off her and take another bite of apple as I survey the space. There’s a faux rock grotto in the corner, complete with waterfall. It reminds me of the resort in Jamaica where Andrea and I vacationed together. This was a month or two before the split, and the sight of those mossy rocks fills me with—
“Longing and lust.”
Vanessa’s voice yanks me back to reality with a thud, and I respond without thinking. “Definitely not.”
She blinks. “What?”
I’m such a dumbass. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
Her expression is bemused as she nods at her laptop. “That’s a common theme for a lot of these story setups. Try to find community members who seem compatible, then arrange for them to be together in close proximity.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’s part of the social experiment, I guess. Watching people fall for each other. Filming the fallout when they split up.”
Vanessa’s brow lifts as she dips a chip into the salsa jar. “That’s a very cynical view.”
“We spell it out pretty clearly in the contract,” I point out. “Not that we’re going full-on matchmaker with this, but the romance drama will be a cornerstone of our programming.”
“I meant the assumption that they’ll split up.”
I shrug, dragging a thumb over my laptop’s trackpad. “You disagree?”
“Not at all. But what about the rest of your family? I’ve gotta think at least a couple of them are hoping for happily ever afters.”
I consider that. “The social experiment component was all Mari’s idea, so yeah—I guess scientifically speaking, it’s expected maybe some of the couples will make it.”
But most won’t. I’m smart enough to know that.
“Probably a good thing you and I aren’t in charge of programming, huh?” She picks up the pear but doesn’t bite into it. “It’d just be episode after episode of ‘tune in this week to see who’s breaking up.’”
I laugh, grateful she’s found the humor in it. My sisters just call me an unsentimental ass. “As long as you and I keep the lights on and the production crews paid, it’ll all work out.”
Vanessa seems to hesitate. There’s something she wants to ask me, I can tell. “What is it?”
She doesn’t beat around the bush. “We both spent time cyber-stalking each other,” she says. “So I couldn’t help reading about you and Andrea Knight.”
Hearing that name turns the apple into lava in my stomach. I fight to keep my expression neutral. “That was a long time ago.”
Not that long. Eight months since we split, though more than a year since I heard rumors she’d been screwing around. I tried to ignore it, burying my head in the sand and the rest of me in huge heaps of work. Andrea denied it, I believed her, and we went along like that for months before I found out the truth.
I won’t make that mistake again.
Vanessa glances down at her laptop. “It sounded like a messy split, so I don’t blame you for being cynical about love and romance and all that.”
“Yeah.” This is my opening. My chance to ask about her responses on that questionnaire, the reasons she’s so adamant about avoiding relationships. “I take it you’ve had some ugly breakups?”
She shrugs and keeps her gaze on the laptop screen. “There’s this guy I dated—Raleigh—and I was so sure he was going to propose. Instead, he traveled all the way to Oregon with me for my cousin’s wedding, then dumped me after getting a free vacation.”
“Ouch.”
Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s barely the tip of the iceberg. My last boyfriend forgot to mention he had a wife. The guy before that was a co-worker who took credit for my ideas and got promoted over me.”
Holy shit. “I’m sorry. They sound like assholes.”
“Sure, that’s true.” She waves a hand like that’s inconsequential. “But I’m the one picking them, so what does that make me?”
Kindhearted. Trusting. Optimistic.
I know those aren’t the answers she wants, so I don’t bother saying any of that. For some reason, I find myself wanting to share my own stupid story. “You’re right, my breakup was ugly. With Andrea?”
“I’m sorry.” She swirls another chip in the salsa. “I only know what I saw in the headlines, but it sounded rough.”
“Yeah.” I don’t know why I’m telling her this as sordid details spill from my mouth. “I worked too much. That’s the main thing. I kinda can’t blame her for what happened.”
What happened.
I make it sound like she tripped and fell on some guy’s dick. In reality, there was probably more than one guy. More than one instance of cheating. I’ll probably never know, and it doesn’t matter anyway.
Vanessa folds her hands on the table. I can tell she wants to ask, so I spare her the trouble.
“Yeah, it’s true.”
She blinks. “What’s true?”
“I ended the relationship over text.” It was a dick move; I know that now. “It was a long time coming, and I didn’t expect her to go on all the talk shows and discuss it, but yeah. I handled things poorly.”
Vanessa’s eyes fill with sympathy, and I brace for her to defend my ex. Andrea Knight is Hollywood royalty, and everyone loves her films. “It must have been painful for everyone,” she says. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
I watch her face for signs of sarcasm, but there isn’t any. Just openness and kindness and an eagerness to move forward.
With work.
That’s what we’re here for. I shake myself out of my sharing-time funk and reach for the chip bag. “Let’s take a look at the figures in column two on the third page of the spreadsheet.”
Vanessa looks at me a moment, then nods. “Absolutely. Let’s stay focused on the job.”
It’s the reminder I need. Maybe we both need it. We’re here for one reason, and that’s to get Juniper Ridge off the ground.
I scoop a mountain of salsa onto a chip and shove it in my mouth, savoring the sting. I feel it burn all the way down my throat, along with the reminder of what I risk by getting distracted.
If I forget for one moment that the whole family is counting on me to keep my eye on the ball.
Chapter 6
CONFESSIONAL 189.5
Vincent, Vanessa (CFO: Juniper Ridge)
No, that’s not what I’m saying. I do believe in love. For other people, I mean. Take my sister. She’s completely bonkers for her husband, and he’s nuts about her. It’s awesome, totally amazing. I’m thrilled for them. And I’m glad I’ve reached this point where I don’t need a relationship to be happy. I’m one hundred percent satisfied without—what? Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize I was yanking it. No, go ahead. I’ll leave the cord alone. Let’s just plug it back in and start over. Yes, totally fine. I’m great!
I know I shouldn’t interrogate my new colleague about his love life, but curiosity got the best of me. Besides, I wanted some reassurance we’ve got zero risk of falling for each other. I’ve sworn off men, he’s sworn off women, and we’re both committed to making Fresh Start at Juniper Ridge a kickass show. Easy, right?
So why do I keep catching myself ogling him?
“…If ad revenue comes in the way we’re hoping in Q2, that’ll give us some major purchasing power for media buys in Q3, you think?”
“Absolutely.” I nod to underscore the fact that I’m paying attention, even though my brain got stuck wondering what Dean Judson looks like with his shirt off. I blame the smell of chlorine, which is giving me crazy urges to strip off my clothes. For swimming, not for anything else.
I clear my throat and order myself to focus on the spreadsheet in front of me. “What do you think about the estimates I’ve plugged into column six?” I ask. “Too high or too low?”
“They seem spot-on to me. If we need to shuffle things around, there’s some extra padding in the line item for social media marketing.”
See? We can do this. We’re totally doing this. Look at me being professional and no-nonsense and not at all ogling Dean’s massive hands on the laptop keyboard.
Dammit to hell.
I’m about to suggest we break for the day when the door swings open. Gabe, who just married my cousin’s half-sister, strides in with one of the biggest cameras I’ve ever seen. Beside him, lugging an armload of studio lights, is a fierce-looking brunette with sun-streaked hair and a no-nonsense scowl.
“We can at least get some shots in,” she’s saying. “Even without bodies, we’ll get a sense of what pops.”
Gabe’s grumbling something as he heads toward the towering waterslide in the corner. “Is there a reason you make everything sound like the setup for a horror film?”
“Maybe because I’m thinking about murdering my brother?” the brunette fires back.
“We should definitely ask Mari to head-shrink you.”
“Or to be my accomplice. She’s got a mean streak, and besides—shrinks know the best ways to get rid of bodies.”
Across from me, Dean sticks two fingers in his mouth and gives a sharp whistle. His two siblings jump, then scowl at him.
“You’re such an asshole, Dean.” The brunette heads for our table, then spots me and seems to soften. “Sorry. I don’t usually swear in front of strangers.”
“Vanessa Vincent.” I stick out my hand, which she shakes with a firm grip. “We’re not strangers now, so swear all you want.”
She laughs and drops into the seat beside Dean. “You’re the new CFO. I’m Lauren.”
I try to recall the birth order, pretty sure she’s the oldest girl. “Glad to meet you.”
Gabe slides into the seat next to me. “For the record, she swears at everyone.” He looks from me to Dean, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “Is there a reason you’re working in the pool house instead of your absurdly huge office?”
Lauren snorts. “Probably because they want to be left alone.” She gives me a pointed look. “Judsons aren’t great at respecting personal boundaries.”
“Not all Judsons suck at it.” Dean leans back in his chair, fixing them with a frown I can tell is just an act. “We’re trying to work here.”
Interesting that he dodged the question about why we’re in the waterpark instead of his office. His posture is relaxed and easy, but I’m picking up an odd, coiled energy about him.
“We’re working, too.” Lauren jerks her thumb toward the waterslide. “We need some shots for the opening sequence.”
Gabe’s got the camera on his lap, fiddling with buttons and switches. “I’m telling you it’s pointless. It’ll be a lame shot without people.”
Lauren fires off a look of intense exasperation. “We’ll get people in it eventually. We just need to get the lighting figured out.”
“Hey!” Gabe looks up and points a finger at Dean. “How about you do it?”
Dean frowns. “How about I do what?”
“Ride the waterslide.” Gabe laughs so hard he nearly knocks the camera off his lap. “Come on, we won’t use the footage. We just need a sense of composition and setup.”
Lauren cracks the first smile I’ve seen from her. “Excellent idea. Make yourself useful, big brother.”
Dean gives her a withering look. “I’m in the middle of making myself very useful. Maybe you’re familiar with the need for funds to get this show up and running?”
Lauren turns her steely-eyed gaze on me. “It’s after five. Doesn’t seem very nice to keep the new CFO working late.”
I open my mouth to insist I don’t mind, but she keeps going. “How about it, Vanessa? Come on, you’ve gotta be dying to try the waterslide, right?”
She does have a point. My inner kid has been squealing and bouncing from the moment Lana showed it to me.
I flick my gaze to Dean, expecting him to answer for me. I can’t read his expression at all, but my brain grabs hold of a memory I’d forgotten. I was eight years old, and my sister and I were at a waterpark outside LA with our mom. Val and I desperately wanted to ride the waterslides, so I stepped up to make the plea.
“Absolutely not,” our mother said, tossing her perfect hair. “These places are breeding grounds for germs, and besides, you might get hurt.”
“But—why are we here then?” I tried not to let my lower lip quiver, but I couldn’t help it. “You brought us to a waterpark and we can’t play in the water?”
“It’s a place to be seen.” She stretched out on a lounge chair, adjusting her wide-brimmed hat as I tried to figure out what on earth she meant by that. Be seen?
“Go play.” She waved me away before I could ask. “Just stay away from the water. Go work on your tan or something.”
I blink myself back to the present, looking from Lauren to Gabe to Dean. “I’d love to try the waterslide.”
Lauren blinks. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” I glance up at the swirling spiral, my insides churning with excitement. “It looks like fun, and I brought a bathing suit.”
It’s Dean’s turn to look surprised. “You have a bathing suit?”
“Yep. Right here.” I pat my bag, grinning.
He shakes his head slowly. “I’m seriously impressed by that purse. Should I worry what else is in there?”
I ignore the question, but yeah, there’s a lot of crap in my bag. I’m big on being prepared. “I was hoping I’d have a chance to swim laps at the end of the workday.”
“Which it totally is.” Lauren makes an exaggerated show of pointing to the clock on the wall. It’s definitely after five. “Let’s get to it, girlfriend.”
Gabe’s full-on smirking, staring down his older brother. “You’re not going to make her do this alone, are you?”
Dean glares at him. “Let me just pull that Speedo out of my back pocket.”
“Ha!” Gabe smacks the table. “I’ve got trunks in my car right outside. Next excuse?”
Dean looks over, and I can see him trying to read me. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Lauren can be kind of a bully sometimes—”
“Hey,” she protests.
“But she does know how to take no for an answer,” Dean adds firmly. “So if you don’t want to do this, it’s definitely not a job requirement.”
“No, I want to.” I hop to my feet and rummage through my bag. “It looks like fun, and we were wrapping up anyway.”
I can’t tell from Dean’s expression if he’s horrified or amused. This is the downside of working with someone from a big acting family. They’re impossible to read. He’s watching me with those eerie hazel eyes, his big hands spread on either side of his laptop.
I hate how much I notice his hands.
Lauren’s on her feet again, lugging the lights toward an open patch of concrete near the waterslide’s exit. “This is going to be great. Gabe, how about we try for the low angle shot first?”
As the two of them get lost in a chatter of lights and camera settings, Dean shoots me an apologetic look. “I’m guessing this isn’t how you envisioned your first day of work.”
I shrug and drag my simple red tank suit out of my bag. “Nothing about this job is really normal, is it? Come on, boss man—get changed.”
I can’t believe I’m being this bold with the CEO. I can’t believe he’s going along with it, lumbering to his feet with another glare at his brother. “Is your car unlocked?”
“Yeah, of course. Gym bag’s in back.”
With a resigned sigh, Dean ambles toward the door. The second he disappears, Lauren calls my name.
I shuffle toward her, red maillot tank suit gripped in my hand. “What’s up?”
She’s adjusting one of the lights but turns to look at me. “Just wanted to congratulate you. I can’t believe you got him to do this.”
“Me? Gabe was the one badgering him.”
Gabe looks up from adjusting his tripod. “He’d have turne
d me down in a heartbeat. That was all you, my friend.”
Lauren nods her agreement. “He knew he’d look like a big pansy letting you do it by yourself.”
I’m strangely pleased by this. Not just that I have the power to influence the stoic, no-nonsense CEO, but that I’m getting to have a little fun.
In all my adult relationships, I’ve taken my cue from the men. Bosses, boyfriends, all of them have called the shots. Not that I was this withering little damsel in distress, but I always felt content to let someone else drive the ship.
Not anymore. And seeing Dean Judson take cues from me is a powerful thing.
“I just hope you get your shot,” I tell Lauren, hoping she can’t read my mind.
Her steely eyes hold mine for a few beats. “I always get my shot.” She points toward a turquoise door in the corner. “Ladies’ dressing room is over there. There’s a shelf by the door with robes and towels and stuff. The showers should be all stocked with supplies.”
“Thanks.” I turn and head for the locker room, fighting against the niggle of self-doubt creeping up on me. Is it weird to strip on my first day of work? It’s not in the employee handbook, and this seems like a gray area.
I push the worries out of my head, reminding myself this job is like none I’ve ever had before. It’s new and different and a completely fresh start. Exactly what I wanted.
Peeling off my clothes in the locker room, I thank my lucky stars I had a bikini wax last week. My toes could use a pedicure, and I could stand to lose five or ten pounds, but to hell with all that. I’m here to be respected for my brain, not the way I fill out a swimsuit.
Still, I can’t help glancing at myself in the mirror as I adjust the straps of my suit. Not bad. My sister tells me I look good in red, and she might have a point. I pull my hair up into a messy topknot, then grab one of the fluffy white robes by the door.
By the time I get back to the base of the waterslide, Lauren and Gabe have everything set up. Lauren smiles as I wander over to join them. “Way to be a team player, Vincent,” she says. “First round of post-work cocktails is on me.”
“As soon as we have a bar,” Gabe points out. “Why wasn’t that the first thing we hired for?”
