by Tawna Fenske
“Sorry,” I murmur.
“S’okay,” he croaks out. “Just don’t move any lower.”
“Right, no, of course.”
There’s a faint glow up ahead, and the sound changes just a bit. A rhythmic sputter instead of the gentle swoosh and splash. “Is that the end?”
“I think so.”
A wave of disappointment washes through me, and I struggle to put some space between us. To peel my thigh off his and release my death-grip on his arm.
“Here we go,” he shouts.
And then we’re launched into the light, laughing and coughing as our legs twine together and we go airborne.
Dean gives a shout and then we hit the water, splashing down into a pool of swirling blue. His hand finds mine underwater, and he pulls me to the surface, moving us toward the edge.
“You okay?”
I’m laughing as I come up, shaking the water from my hair. “I’m great. You?”
“That was amazing.”
The brightness in his eyes, the slickness of his fingers gripping mine, all of it is overpowering. Our forgotten tube bumps me in the back, knocking me into him. Dean releases my fingers and dips his hand into my low back. His eyes lock with mine, and I can feel our bodies moving closer, our lips drawn like magnets as we—
“Got it!” Lauren’s voice is followed by applause, and I jerk my attention to the side of the pool.
She’s clapping and flashing a knowing look while Gabe drives the camera.
“That was amazing.” Lauren steps to the edge of the pool. “I can’t wait to see the footage.”
Footage? That’s right, they’re filming, and holy crap on a cracker, I almost kissed Dean Judson. What the hell was I thinking?
But it wasn’t just me thinking it. I can tell by the way he’s watching me, by the way he touched his lip like he’s convincing himself it didn’t really happen.
It didn’t. Thank God it didn’t.
But holy inner tubes, we came close.
And that thought alone is enough to send me scampering out of the pool. “That was fun, really great, it was awesome.”
I’m chattering like a drunk teenager trying to pass herself as sober at a frat party. I’m tugging my swimsuit top and wringing water from my hair and doing anything to keep from turning to look at Dean.
Lauren catches my eye and smiles. “Was it like you expected?”
Not even a little. Not one a tiny bit like what I thought I was signing on for when I agreed to be the new CFO for this crazy community-slash-reality show. I’m trying to play cool, but I feel Dean’s eyes burning through the back of my head.
“It was great,” I tell Lauren, forcing a smile that I pray doesn’t reveal how I’m tingling all over. “Totally amazing.”
I turn and dash for the locker room, fingertips brushing my lips to be sure they haven’t burst into flame.
Chapter 7
CONFESSIONAL 231
Judson, Dean (CEO: Juniper Ridge)
Yeah, I like to be in control. You say that like it’s a character flaw or something. I’m the oldest of six kids, for Christ’s sake. Someone had to be in charge. Our parents…I mean, they’re great and all, but—[mumbling]. Look, it was just a weird upbringing, that’s all. I don’t regret anything.
Not from my childhood, anyway.
“Are we almost done with this business plan, or should I order more coffee?” Lana spins her enameled tin mug on the table, the words “sex kitten” twirling above the photo of a vicious feline with fangs dripping blood.
Mari flips a page in the document and begins polishing her glasses on the hem of her T-shirt. Until six months ago, I’m not sure she’d ever owned a T-shirt.
“Does it look like we’re almost done?” She turns a page in Lana’s packet, catching her up to the rest of us. “We’re on page 68 out of 171.”
Lana rolls her eyes. “Duh,” she retorts, leaning on her favorite baby-of-the-family comeback. “I meant are we taking a break or something.”
Lauren peers over the top of her packet. “There is no break. Only numbers and pie charts and words like ‘market penetration’ and ‘ROI’ and ‘monetize’ until we shrivel up and die a lonely, miserable death.”
Cooper breaks into applause. “Very nice performance. Maybe work up a faint sheen of perspiration on the next take.”
Lauren picks up a pencil to throw at him, but Lana beats him to it, flinging her empty tin mug at his head. It’s a good shot, but Coop ducks, and the mug clangs off the corkboard behind him.
Mari sighs. “Is there any chance we can make it through one of these meetings without assaulting each other?”
“Nope.” Gabe swoops in from the coffee bar across the room, angling himself between Lauren and Mari with a fresh pot in one hand. “Refills for all. Except Lana, who’s minus a mug.”
Lauren elbows our baby sister. “Open up and he can pour it down your throat.”
Mari winces. “Can we please curtail the sexual innuendo?”
“Dude.” Gabe shakes his head. “You’re the one who went there, Mar. I’m just pouring coffee.”
“Tsk-tsk.” Lauren gives her sternest finger wag. “Now who’s the perv, Mari?”
Hearing my siblings bicker floods me with a bewildering surge of affection. I know I need to step in and bring us back on track, but I’m enjoying this pleasant, nostalgic buzz.
“Dean, where’s your mug?” Gabe holds up the pot as Lana scurries across the boardroom to reclaim hers.
Lauren rolls her eyes. “He probably shoved it up his ass to keep us from taking it.”
“Ha ha.” I pull it out of my briefcase and set it on the table. “Thanks, man.”
“No prob.”
Across the room, Colleen looks up from her laptop. I’m not sure if she’s working on coffee shop business, wildlife research, or hacking the dark web. Maybe all three. She catches my eye and gestures to the state-of-the-art espresso machine behind the bar. “Need more?” she mouths.
I shake my head and turn to the next page in the business plan. “Can we please get back on track? I have a meeting with Tia Nelson at Sun Daisy Organic Ranch.”
Cooper perks up. “Is she signing on to be part of the show?”
“Possibly.”
I don’t want to get his hopes up. He’s been nuts about organic farming since he got sober and committed to clean living. I should probably hand the whole thing off to him, but I hate to see him disappointed if Tia keeps declining. Sobriety’s a fragile thing, and I’d do anything to safeguard it for my brother.
“Let me know if you want help,” Cooper says.
“Thanks. We’re making progress.” The truth is it’s still a firm “hell no” from the testy rancher whose property adjoins ours. I glance at my watch, surprised to see it’s almost four. “Vanessa’s meeting me in the parking lot so we can drive over together.”
Coop takes a swig from his coffee mug. “Good luck.”
Gabe flips a few pages ahead in his packet. “Can we talk about this section on competing networks?”
“What about it?” I turn to the page, stifling my frustration at going out of order. “You still worried about the Voltan Network?”
Lauren sits up straighter. “I’m hearing more grapevine gossip. Their programming director isn’t thrilled we’re planning to go up against their top-rated show.”
Cooper kicks back in his chair holding a pen shaped like a hot dog. A vegan one, I presume. “Voltan’s ratings have been in a nosedive for months,” he says. “If it tanks, it won’t be our fault.”
“Tell that to the Voltan execs,” Gabe mutters, glancing at Lana. “You worked with Bob Voltan on that campaign a few years back, right?”
She makes a face and creases the corner of a page in her packet. “Spiteful asshole. He wanted me to help him figure out how to game the ratings. He didn’t give a damn about making good television.”
“But we do.” Lauren folds her arms over her chest. “And that’s why we’ll kick his
ass.”
A niggle of worry moves through me. I’ve only met Bob Voltan a handful of times, but his network is unquestionably our biggest competitor. Lana’s right, he’s an asshole. Is he the kind of asshole who’d sabotage a competitor’s show?
Something dings across the room, and I glance up to see Colleen pushing her laptop aside and striding into the small kitchen off the coffee bar. Moments later, she emerges holding a plate piled high with muffins.
“Oh my God, you’re an angel.” Lana stands to take the stack of paper plates from her hand, divvying them up between us. “Are these the marionberry ones you made the other day?”
“Nah, this is huckleberry lemon,” she says. “Patti and I were out this morning checking the wildlife cams. We found a whole mess of ‘em right below the ridgeline.”
“Mmmph, this is amazing.” Mari bites right into one, while Lauren carefully cuts hers into perfect quarters. “So good.”
Cooper nods his approval around a mouthful of muffin. “You’re the most badass baker slash biologist slash internet hacker I’ve ever known.”
Colleen laughs and dusts crumbs off her hands. “Yeah, speaking of that, I’ve been battening down the hatches on your website. Whoever managed to hack their way in, they’ll have to work a lot harder next time.”
I try not to hang up on the idea that there might be a “next time,” or the fear that our prankster might have more on the agenda than making us look incompetent.
“Please make sure you bill us for your hours,” I remind Colleen as I grab the muffin Cooper’s handing me. “I know this is a big drain on your time while we’re waiting to hire a tech guru.”
“Nah, it’s just fun.” Colleen shrugs. “Of course, it’d be more fun to catch the son of a bitch. Whoever’s messing with you is damn good at covering his tracks.”
Lauren finishes chewing a mouthful of muffin. “Is there a reason we keep assuming it’s a guy? Women can be nasty, too.”
“True dat.” Cooper shoves half a muffin in his mouth and points at me. “Anything new on that bug in your office?”
I wait for Mari to ask him not to chew with his mouth full, but she’s focused on choosing another muffin. I shrug at Coop.
“Turns out it’s been there a while,” I tell him. “That’s what the PI says. The battery’s long dead, and it’s a model they haven’t made for years, so—”
“So the cult people were bugging each other?” Lana asks.
“Or the Feds were bugging them,” Lauren suggests.
“You’re all kinda bugging me.” Cooper helps himself to another muffin.
Mari ignores him and sips her tea. “Or the cult leader’s scorned mistress was gathering intel for his wife. There are about a million possibilities for how people might mistrust each other, and most of them are probably justified.”
We all take a moment to process that. All except Gabe, the lone Judson who’s happily married. He’s smiling and tapping something on his phone. Probably sexting his wife.
“How’s Vanessa settling in?”
Mari’s question jolts me from my X-rated thoughts and onto…okay, more like R-rated thoughts. Is it wrong that I haven’t stopped thinking about her slick, soft body pressed against mine? It’s been a few days since the waterslide, and we’ve been nothing but professional since then. Still, my brain won’t stop flickering with images of her in that red swimsuit.
“She picked the cabin right down from me,” Lana supplies, since I’m too lost in thought to answer. “The one with the red door and the nice back deck and those cute little flower boxes.”
“Oh, that’s a nice one.” Lauren nibbles the edge of her muffin. “I like her, too. She’s got spunk.”
Mari folds her hands on the table. “Unless it’s connected to someone’s job, we should refrain from personal descriptions of employees in a public setting.”
Gabe surveys the room. “Is this public? I mean, we own the place.”
“I only said she had spunk,” Lauren points out. “Personal would be if I said I’d kill to have an ass like hers.”
“Right?” Lana picks up her mug. “She must do a zillion lunges a day.”
Lauren looks thoughtful. “I wonder who does her hair. We should see about having them open a salon here.”
Cooper shakes his head and turns back to me. “Anything to report on the postcard?”
That gets Mari’s attention. “What postcard?”
Shit. I meant to tell the others, but…okay, maybe I didn’t. “It showed up a few days ago. One side had this weird glamour shot of Vanessa as a teenager, and the other warned us against hiring her.”
Lauren’s brow furrows. “You think maybe it’s a former boss or something? Someone pissed that we hired her away?”
The thought had crossed my mind, but I shake my head. “I don’t know what to think. I’ve asked Lieutenant Lovelin to come in and brief us sometime this week. It might help to have someone laying out all the pieces and going over them with us.”
Cooper grins. “I approve of this plan.”
Lauren rolls her eyes. “Because Lieutenant Lovelin is smart and badass and freakin’ gorgeous.”
Mari looks pained. “Can we please not discuss prospective employees like pieces of meat?”
“Okay, but real quick.” Lauren holds up her hand. “Anyone else have a massive girl crush on Vanessa?”
“Yo.” Across the room, Colleen holds up her hand and grins. “Don’t tell my wife.”
Lana laughs and flicks a muffin crumb off the table. “Your wife adores her, too. We ran into Patti when I was giving Vanessa the tour.”
Lauren ignores them to give me a look I can only describe as “calculating.” She drums her fingers on the edge of her plate and stares me down. “Our girl crushes will remain unrequited, since she’s clearly straight.” She holds her hand up to Mari. “I know, I know—we’re not discussing employees’ sexual orientation. I’m just pointing out that you could power a generator on the electricity zapping around between Dean and Vanessa.”
“Really?” Lana bounces a little in her chair. “Think she’s got the magic touch to yank the stick out of his butt?”
“Hello, I’m right here.” I glare at them all before turning to Mari. “Anyway, isn’t it against company policy for co-workers to fraternize or something?”
Mari stares at me like I’ve got earthworms coming out my ears. “Of course not. That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it? For people to pair up in mutually-satisfying yet highly-entertaining demonstrations of personal connection.”
“Mmm, that’ll sound good in teaser reels.” Lauren pops a bite of muffin in her mouth.
Mari gives her a withering look. “How are those interviews coming along for building contractors?”
A little fire flickers out of Lauren’s eyes. “Fine. I’m working on it.”
No one says anything, since we all know Lauren’s history. She used to be in a hot and heavy relationship with Nick Armbrust, one of the top building contractors in the country. There’s no way she wants to hire him to build our new cabins, and no way we’re not hiring him, since he’s the best. It’s driving her nuts, and the urge to jump in and save my sister is overwhelming.
But I’ve got bigger issues on my plate. “Look, maybe we should call it a day.” I push back in my chair and glance at my watch. “We can come back to this tomorrow, okay?”
“Tell Vanessa hi for me,” Lana says, flipping blond hair out of her eyes. “Give her a great big ol’ kiss.”
Lauren smirks. “Oh, he almost did. We got it on video and everything.”
I make a beeline for the door with Lana’s delighted shriek echoing in my ears. Even Cooper holds up his hand for a high-five as I pass by on my way to the door. I ignore him because (a) I am definitely not hooking up with Vanessa Vincent, and (b) even if I were—which I’m not—it would hardly be something to celebrate. For crying out loud, could things get more complicated?
She did feel amazing in my arms, though. The
way her body molded against mine on the waterslide or in the backseat of her car or—
“Hey!” Vanessa steps out from behind a pillar next to the lodge and slips on her sunglasses. “Beautiful day, huh?”
“Yeah, not bad.” I pull out my own sunglasses, aware that things might go better if we’re not making eye contact. Maybe that’s our problem. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late.” She glances at her watch. “Okay, you’re two minutes late.” She folds her arms over her chest and glares. “Goddammit, Dean.”
I laugh and fall into step beside her as we head for the parking lot. “How about I drive? That way you can flip through the prospectus for Sun Daisy Organics on our way over.”
“She sent us a prospectus? That’s a good sign.”
“Maybe.” I pull the printed packet out of my briefcase and hand it to her. “She’s still not budging on being part of the show.”
“Did she share her objections?”
I shrug. “Reality TV is the devil. Wealthy developers are worse than the devil. We’re raping the land and not using it for its intended purposes. Take your pick.”
“She sounds like a peach.”
“She’s actually really cool.” It’s the main reason we’d love to have her on Fresh Start at Juniper Ridge. That, and her farm generates gobs of amazing meats and produce.
Vanessa walks around to the other side of my truck and gets in. She’s flipping through pages before I start the engine. “Everything’s organic, huh? Even the meats she raises.”
“Yep. For a farm that size, they’ve got amazing yield.”
She turns a page, looking thoughtful. “Maybe there’s more to her animosity than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs and keeps scanning the page. “Maybe she wanted to buy the BONK compound before you swooped in.”
“The thought crossed my mind.” I’m not sure who we bid against when the property came up for sale, but it’s possible Tia wanted to expand her farm. “Sorry, I’ll shut up and let you read.”
