Interference (Prescott Family Book 1)

by Mignon Mykel

  “You could probably tuck her in your pocket. How that voice on the phone came from that pixie of a girl… Damn, Cael, you better tap that, show be damned.”

  I shook my head with a grin before scratching my jawline with my middle finger in a subtle jab. We turned the corner from the locker room to head out when Jonny added, “If I wasn’t in a committed relationship with Jenna…” His pause was more tell-tale than I think he realized. “I’d look twice.”

  The name ‘Jenna’ was like nails on a chalkboard, so I just shook my head again at my brother. That girl sunk her nails into Jonny when he was drafted for the National Junior team and hasn’t let up. The entire family could see what Jonny simply couldn’t—she didn’t want him for him.

  “I mean, never mind the fact the girl is hot, this idea she’s pulling you in for? Dating twenty chicks for a month? Damn, son…”

  Jonny could talk…

  Which was funny, because of my two brothers and me, Jonny definitely was the more ‘tenderhearted old soul’, as our mom often said. He wasn’t generally one to run his mouth, but lately all he did was talk chicks and tits and pussy; I had a feeling Jenna was going to be out the door sooner than later.

  God, I hoped so.

  I glanced up just as I pushed Jonny away from me, hand to cheek, and saw a well-dressed redhead standing a few feet off. Jonny peeled off to the ice, not before smacking me in the back, and I neared the woman who had to be Sydney.

  “Caleb? I’m Sydney,” she said as she offered her hand.

  “Yeah, Jon Jon said.” I wanted to be skeptical of this chick, but I had manners. I took her much smaller hand in mine and squeezed gently once, rather than shake it. Goddamn, she really was a pixie.

  She was even shorter than my sisters and they were easily five-four. Myke, my oldest sister, was maybe five-six. Still, this Sydney stood damn near a foot and half lower than me; sure, yeah, I was wearing skates, but on a quick look down, I saw she was wearing heels. Barefoot, the difference wouldn’t be much different than now.

  I took my hand back and crossed my arms over my chest. I watched as her pretty amber eyes flashed down to my chest then back up to my eyes. Well, I was pretty sure she was actually looking at my nose.

  I reached up and ran a hand over my jaw shadow before scrubbing over my goatee, continuing a quick appraisal of the tiny redhead in front of me. I was pretty sure green and brown shouldn’t go together as a rule, but the colors worked well with her skin tone. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show what minimal cleavage she had.

  Yes, I looked at her chest. I was an ass and tits guy. Didn’t know many guys who weren’t.

  Her neck was unadorned and with quick realization, I saw that the only jewelry she wore was in her ears. Even there, though, she wore simple, tiny diamond studs. Two in each ear.

  Further down, though, I got at least half of what I liked to see. She didn’t have huge hips, but her ass…

  I almost was expecting her backend to be as flat as her top but nope. She had a nice ass in those tailored pants of hers.

  Afraid I was lingering too long to be considered acceptable, I moved my eyes back up to her face, where I now noted more than her eyes. The lighting wasn’t the greatest down here, but I thought I saw a light splash of freckles over her nose.

  It made her a little sweeter.

  As pretty as she was, I had to put a stop to this reality TV nonsense.

  “Look. I know I said I’d meet with you, but can we make it quick? We have a post-skate with some kids and I really need to get out there.”

  “Ok, yeah. I mean, yes, of course,” Sydney said with a nod.

  As she and I stood near each other in the cinder block hall, Sydney went over the show with me, much as she had that morning, adding a few more details. She explained that the show would be filmed during a 30-day Hawaiian cruise, with excursions being used as individual and group dates. It was like Love Boat meets The Bachelor.

  Film crews would start filming me in my natural element, being here in San Diego, as soon as the end of the week if I agreed. Then, at the end of the season, the true filming of the show would begin.

  As she was about to rush into explain when I would board the cruise-liner, as if I had agreed to it, I held up my hand. “Miss Meadows.” God that sounded too formal for a woman like her. “Sydney,” I tried again, definitely preferring the taste of it on my tongue. “How about we meet over coffee or something tomorrow? Ten?”

  Her eyes widened slightly, just briefly, before she nodded with a fixed smile in place. “Of course. Yes, that will give you more time to let it sink in. So long as you agree to—”

  I cut her off with a grin. While yes, this show was against everything I had ever thought for myself, I had a feeling that sitting with Sydney and talking to her about the show, as if I were agreeing to it, would be the only time I’d see this gorgeous redhead again. I didn’t quite know what was drawing me to this short pixie of a woman, but I definitely wanted to see her again. Tomorrow I’d have no time constraints and she could talk all she wanted.

  But before I realized the words were out of my mouth though, I said, “I’ll do it,” agreeing to her pitch.

  Shit. Fuck.

  The smile filling her face wasn’t one I was about to take away, and her amber eyes danced, lightening just slightly to bring out fiery red specks. “We can discuss contestants tomorrow then. Wonderful. Oh, great!”

  I had to swallow a chuckle at her obvious excitement. We agreed on a place to meet and I watched her leave out of the corner of my eye while heading toward the ice.

  Like I said, I liked her ass.

  “So,” Sydney said, sitting across from me the next morning at one of the many non-chain coffee houses near Jonny and my condo. Today she was wearing a flowy black skirt with a white fitted tee that hugged her slight chest, and one of those chunky belts. The belt was that orangey cognac brown—the only brown, my sisters had informed me once, that could be paired with black. Her red hair was down around her shoulders today, showing off blonds and browns in the wavy, long tresses. If I thought she was pretty yesterday…

  Damn, I wasn’t prepared for today.

  Unlike most women I met, she appeared to wear minimal makeup, something I couldn’t fully tell in the dim light last night. Her complexion was that peaches and creamlike color people typically attributed to redheads, but only her nose and cheekbones were dusted with light freckles. I could see a few others along her collar bone sprinkling near her covered shoulders, too.

  While she was dressed to the nines, I had shown up in a comfortable choice of jeans that I’d had for probably the better part of three years, and a hooded sweatshirt, sleeves pushed up to my elbows.

  “My job is to find you your potential…dates, girlfriend, wife, whatever it is you’re trying to get out of this show,” Sydney continued. “Rather than going about this in a completely random fashion, I thought I’d start off by hearing your preferences.”

  “My preferences?” I slid back to slouch a bit in my hair, reaching both hands out to wrap around my coffee cup.

  “Yes. Height, build, hair, et cetera, et cetera,” she answered, picking up her legal pad only to put it back down, slightly angled this time. She slid her pen off the top of the pad and flipped it once in her left hand before clicking the end, extracting the tip.

  So she was a lefty. Different.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” she prompted.

  I sighed heavily, a grin tugging my lips. “My preferences…” I reiterated before truly beginning. I kept my gaze on Sydney while spewing off my ideal woman—or what had been my ideal before a short, sexy redhead walked into my life the day prior because at this moment, I’d do anything for a date with her.

  “Tall. Nothing more than a foot difference. Did that once.” Though, truth be told, in some ways it made sex more exciting. It was easier to work against a wall or in a shower with a shorter chick.

  I watched for any change of expression on her face, but she wr
ote what I said with nilch, nada, nothing showing. Ok, then, I thought.

  “Never really had a thing for redheads,” I said, forcing a fake grimace of apology but she never looked. Again, no reaction.

  And now for the big guns. I supposed it wasn’t a nice spot to play, on account of some women being self-conscious about it, but, “Definitely have to have more than a handful to work with.”

  This time she did look up, a quizzical look on her face. “A handful?”

  “You know...” My voice trailed off as I raised my hands slightly out in front of my chest. I threw in a hand squeeze with both balls of air.

  Sydney’s eyes flicked from my hands down to her own chest, then back to her legal pad so quickly I thought it may not have happened.

  But there it was, that pink in her cheeks.

  Got her.

  It almost killed me to not grin in victory.

  “You seem to have rather large hands, Mr. Prescott,” she muttered, “but I’ll try my best.”

  This time, I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, but she didn’t seem to notice or mind. Yet again, she was in business mode.

  “Kids? I understand you’re only in your mid-twenties and at the height of your career, but some women will definitely have that on their radar.” She glanced up at me, waiting for my answer.

  Honestly, I hadn’t really thought of them. With hockey season taking up damn-near three-quarters of the year, and the rest being filled with camps and giving back and not a lot of downtime, I hadn’t given a lot of thought to any sort of settling down, which is partly why this show idea was such a joke.

  I told her as much.

  Well, the schedule part. Not the joke one.

  She nodded and wrote on her pad before tapping the backend of her pen twice against her chin, then gave me a small smile. “Do you have any questions?”

  “What is your role in all of,” I waved my hand near her notepad, pausing a moment before finishing, “this?”

  She put her pen down only to reach for her coffee cup, taking a sip and returning the cup to the table. She then sat up a little straighter and tucked her hands down…under her ass? I wasn’t about to lean and look, but I definitely thought she was sitting on her hands. “I just completed my senior year of marketing. I officially graduate in a couple of weeks. I did a summer internship with a wedding planner out of Salt Lake City—“

  I interrupted her. “Utah?”

  She raised an auburn brow. “Do you know of another?”

  I couldn’t stop my grin at her spunk. “Continue. Sorry.”

  “As I was saying, I did a summer internship with a wedding planner, and then a classmate was talking about an internship he was doing with Sorenson. I’ve always been interested in the behind-the-scenes stuff with television and movies, so I figured I’d give it a shot, too. I don’t need the internship, having completed the one in summer, but I wanted the experience. So I’m like an intern-slash-casting assistant for my boss, David, who really is a casting assistant. The director of the show gave David the spiel and he gave me your name. My other assignments have been typical assistant duties like scoping out places. I guess with movies and scripted things, the assistant helps with readings but,” she shrugged a shoulder. “So here I am. Trying to pitch a show to you.”

  “Well, you pitched the show to me. Pretty sure I agreed to it too.” I grinned over at her.

  “Anything for a bunch of ladies, right?” Her smile widened. “I have brothers, I know how you boys work.”

  Not so sure about the ‘anything for a bunch of ladies’ crack, as it was truly all about the one sitting in front of me, but I’d leave that alone. It looked like we were done talking about the show, but I wasn’t ready to leave yet. “Brothers? How many?”

  “Three. I’m the youngest of four. Smith is twenty-eight, Sean twenty-seven and Sawyer is twenty-four.”

  “And you are… Twenty…?”

  “Two.”

  I nodded. “I’m twenty-four, but you knew that. I have an older sister and four younger siblings.”

  After an almost awkward silence where I didn’t expand and she didn’t ask, Sydney smiled again and picked up her pen. “Well, I’ll let you go. The paperwork will be sent to your agent and filming crews will likely be with you starting the end of the week. They’ll do shots like playing, practice, hanging out at home. Couple monologues. I’ll work on your cast, and I believe the cruise is set to start mid-June…” She pursed her lips as she flipped through the end of her notepad. “Or beginning of July, rather. I think they wanted to give you enough time to rest in the event you went to the championship game.”

  I had to hold back a chuckle at the phrase. “You don’t know hockey, do you?”

  Her eyes widened slightly before her cheeks flushed to a pretty pink. “No, not really, but that’s neither here nor there. The temporary itinerary will be emailed to you upon your signing the agreement, but you and the filming crew will board one week prior to the women. At that point, the thirty-day Hawaiian cruise will begin. The last week, your family is invited to join.

  “The end game of the show isn’t necessarily a proposal, but the idea is more than just ‘a date with Caleb Prescott’. It’s more like the idea you’ll meet someone you wouldn’t get to meet otherwise. The running title of the show is Beauty. I think they need to work on it, personally but—“

  “Do you know what a beauty is?” With her ‘championship game’ lingo, I was willing to bet the hockey slang went over her head too.

  She spoke slowly, unsurely, her eyes going from left to right before settling on mine. “A beautiful girl?”

  I shook my head, my grin tight but I could feel that shit in my cheeks. “No. A beauty is a player who’s good with his hands, loves the game, gives back to the team… The guy the team loves. But also the guy on the team who’s…” I tried to think of a decent way to word it, “good with the ladies.”

  She smirked a little and nodded a few times. “Makes more sense now. I get it.” She shook her head in amusement. “You hockey players.”

  As she started to put her pad and pen back in her folio, I asked the question that had been lingering in my mind since the night prior. “Are you going to be there?”

  “Where, the show?” I nodded. “Oh, no. I imagine this will be the last time we see each other.” Sydney smiled again. Damn, I could probably drown on the pull of her lips on her face. “Unless of course, you made a side trip to Utah someday. I could return the coffee gesture.”

  “Yeah, I’ll let you know.” I smiled to hide my disappointment before standing. “It was nice to meet you, Sydney Meadows.” I extended my hand. “Even if you talked me into something I didn’t really want to do.”

  She stood too, and took my hand in hers. “Let’s be honest, you changed your mind pretty quickly.”

  “Pretty persuaders can do that,” I said, knowing that it came off as a line but meaning the words. “Can I walk you to your car?” She’d gotten here before I did and I had to park what felt like a mile away.

  Sydney just tilted her head down, motioning out the windows. “I’m just right there. But you can walk me out, I guess.”

  So I did.

  And on my way to my own car, I tried to figure out a way to see her again.

  Sydney

  I sat back in my desk chair, rubbing at my eyes.

  I just spent hours, literally hours, going through audition videos and written submissions from hundreds of girls who wanted to be on this show.

  They didn’t even know who the guy was they were fighting for and they didn’t seem to care. None of them said it outright, but they all wanted a chance to win the heart of an athlete.

  Or take one to bed.

  One of those two things.

  I wasn’t given names, but I didn’t think names were really all that important. Just knowing that Auditioner One-Fifteen was five foot six, gorgeous, and well-versed, was enough for me to consider her for the show.

  After going throu
gh easily two-hundred auditions, I had it narrowed down to fifty. Each of the fifty hopefuls had a two-by-two picture placed on what I called my board of hopefuls.

  This was not a job for the self-conscious, insecure woman. I was a pretty confident girl and these women made me feel about two feet tall. They were all my age, yet made me look much younger. They all had pretty made-up faces, which almost had me opening up YouTube to find a makeup tutorial, because obviously I was doing something wrong when you could still see my freckles and the slight laugh lines near my eyes.

  Sighing, I got up to grab a cup of coffee. I hated coffee but it was a needed jolt of caffeine. That, and I felt that it was needed to fully feel like an adult. Adults drank coffee.

  When I reached my kitchen, my phone rang just as I was reaching for a mug. I pulled it from the back pocket of my denim shorts and single handedly swiped open the call, all while putting the mug down and pouring a cup of the nasty java.

  “Hey, Soy,” I answered after seeing his goofy face on my screen. I didn’t put pictures to my contacts, but my brother, Sawyer, took over my phone during one of our family dinners. Each of my brothers now sported one of Sawyer’s many faces.

  Sean had Sawyer with crossed eyes. Smith had Sawyer with an exaggerated holier than thou, superior face with his brows drawn in and his lips pinched tight. Sawyer’s face for himself?

  A nice smile.

  “How’s my favorite sister?”

  I laughed lightly. “Pretty sure I’m your only sister.” I replaced the carafe and brought my black coffee back to my desk. “But I’m good. You?”

  “Good. You coming to dinner tonight?”

  “Yeah, Soy, haven’t missed one.” I shook my head, grinning. I could go weeks without actually talking to my other brothers, instead just shooting a quick text now and then, but Sawyer refused to go a day without talking to me. Usually he’d just call, but I have been on the receiving end of his random appearances.

  “What are you up to today? Want to grab lunch?”

  I looked at the clock and saw it was nearing noon. My goodness, I started this project at six this morning.