She's The One

by Bronwyn Stuart

  She’s The One

  Bronwyn Stuart

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  She’s The One

  Bronwyn Stuart

  Millionaire Banjo Grahams originally signed up for reality show She’s The One drunk as a skunk and willing to do anything to bed Australia’s most beautiful women, but when he sobers up he realises he could lose his entire fortune and more if he goes through with it. Unable to back out of an ironclad contract, he makes a deal with the network boss to rig the show, picking the lucky bachelorette ahead of time and guiding the season to meet his own ends and keep the board happy.

  But Eliza Peterson has other plans for the spoilt playboy. When her father tells her she isn’t going to produce She’s The One but appear as one of the contestants, she is livid that he is still treating her like an intern. She wants his respect, or even his notice, and plans to go along with the show with her dignity intact to prove to her father that she is worth something, not only to the network, but to him.

  She begins by steering Banjo in the direction of the other hopeful women but soon finds herself drawn to a side of him she never knew he had…

  About the Author

  Bronwyn Stuart’s love of reading got her into trouble at a very young age, starting with Mills and Boon ‘borrowed’ from her mother and then progressing to meaty historicals and sweeping sagas. It’s only fair that romance pays her back with unique ideas for her own novels. She now writes gritty romance from her treehouse in the Adelaide Hills where she lives with her young children, two white fluffy cats, and a bad boy (now husband) of her very own.

  Bronwyn is a multiple contest winner in both Australia and North America and has three full-length Regencies published in English and Italian with Carina Press and Harlequin MIRA Australia. Her previous contemporary romance from Escape Publishing is titled Mixing Business with Pleasure and can be found anywhere great ebooks are sold.

  You can find out more about Bronwyn and her books at www.bronwynstuart.com or catch up with her on Facebook—Bronwyn Stuart Romance Author.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d really like to thank both Kates at Escape Publishing for putting my story out into the big wide world for you to read. I’d like to say a huge thank you to you as well, the reader, for buying my book and spending your valuable hours escaping into Banjo and Eliza’s world. A mention should also go to Harlequin as a whole, whose individual lines continue to ride the rollercoaster with me every time a new book goes from ‘accepted’ all the way to ‘live’.

  I have such an incredible support group in my hubby and kids, my family, Romance Writers of Australia and also South Australian Romance Authors. Sometimes you need a little help or a kick in the right direction and this book might not have happened without coaching from the sidelines or a read by my bestie, Kelly Ethan.

  I love to hear from readers so make sure you drop me a line and let me know how much you enjoyed the book. Authors survive in this digital world by reviews and word of mouth so if you have a minute please leave a few sentences at the platform where you made your purchase or share a link on Facebook or Twitter. Seeing those little gold stars pop up on Goodreads makes my day!

  Thanks again,

  Bronwyn.

  To the bachelorettes of the world,

  Never lose sight of your self-worth.

  Never underestimate your value.

  Never, ever, ever settle for any less than you deserve.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…

  Chapter 1

  ‘You want me to do what?’

  ‘Not want. I need you to glam yourself up and be ready to go live tomorrow with the other girls.’

  Eliza Peterson stared at her father thinking if he suddenly grew two heads, then she would know this was actually a nightmare and one really hard pinch would snap her out of it. ‘I thought that’s what you said. Are you drunk?’

  Malcolm Lynch shook his head and gave her the same fake and condescending smile he sometimes threw the sixteen-year-old work experience girl. ‘No. The proverbial hit the fan last night and Banjo was going to pull out.’

  ‘He can’t do that. We start taping in just over twenty-four hours.’

  The smile again. ‘We can’t make him go on. I could sue him for breach of contract but that still doesn’t solve the fact we need to air this show on time. I have backers who will want my head on a platter if we don’t.’

  ‘What does this all have to do with me?’

  She watched as her father leaned over and hit the intercom connecting his phone with his PA’s. ‘Miriam, tell Banjo we’re ready for him.’

  ‘He’s here? Malcolm, what’s going on?’ Eliza’s nerves kicked up a notch and her heart bumped uncomfortably against her ribs as she smoothed her skirt and made sure her blouse was still tucked in. She should have known something was off when her father called and asked her to come into the office first thing.

  The door opened and in strode Australia’s flavour of the month. Or what the station hoped would be the flavour of the month. If their new reality show She’s The One—modelled on The Bachelor—took off like they thought it could, then all the other reality shows airing (including The Bachelor) would be eating their pixel trail. Once the women of the world copped an eyeful of Banjo, there’d be enough drool to end droughts everywhere. They’d tune in week after week for sure.

  Banjo Grahams nodded vaguely to Eliza first, then to her dad, and sat in a chair. Or rather on the edge of it. ‘Did you sort it out?’ he asked, hands clenched on his denim-clad thighs.

  ‘Eliza here will do the job. I just have to fill her in on the finer details and then we can sign the agreements and get started.’

  ‘I haven’t agreed to anything,’ Eliza pointed out, trying not to give in to the urge to hold eye contact with Banjo for too long. God, he really did have the bluest eyes, just like his pictures. She’d always wondered if the colour was a product of Photoshop. But she had to focus. ‘Maybe someone needs to tell me what’s going on here.’

  Both men ignored her as Banjo fired off questions. ‘Are sure you can trust her? Do you really think we can get away with it? What are you going to do if it doesn’t work?’

  ‘She’s my daughter,’ Malcolm said. No pride. Just fact. ‘And I know we can get away with it.’

  ‘That doesn’t exactly fill me with hope,’ Banjo countered, finally leaning back in the chair, his fingers steepled in front of his impossibly wide chest, lips pressed together in a thin line. He looked so strong and capable. And pissed off.

  ‘Eliza will do just fine and she won’t breathe a word during the taping or after.’

  ‘Someone has to tell me what’s going on or I’m walking out the door right now.’

  Malcolm turned a hard stare on her but it didn’t cow her. Maybe if he’d been around to give her that fear-inspiring glare when she was a naughty five–year-old, it may have worked now. At twenty-seven, she just stared back, didn’t budge an inch. He’d made it very clear that here, at work, he was the boss. Nothing more, nor less.

  ‘I told you Banjo wanted out of the show.’

  Eliza nodded and gestured for
him to elaborate or continue.

  ‘We came up with a solution that we can all be happy with.’

  She’d bet her arse it meant she wouldn’t be happy with their solution.

  ‘You are going to take the place of one of the beauties and Banjo is going to choose you as the love of his life.’

  Eliza threw herself from her chair to put distance between her and the ridiculously good-looking millionaire. ‘What? Are you two insane?’

  Banjo swivelled on the soft black leather to face her. ‘Not quite insane. Desperate would be the word for it if I had to choose one.’

  ‘I don’t understand. You are a bachelor, are you not?’

  ‘I am, but it’s complicated.’

  ‘Did you already find love? Is that why you didn’t want to go ahead with it? Is your girlfriend going to be waiting in the wings while we tape?’

  He laughed. Or rather snorted. ‘Fat chance of that happening.’

  ‘Then why? You guys are going to have to give me more than this because right now, I’m thinking there’s some huge plot bomb about to go off with me the tragic victim.’

  ‘There’s no need for drama, Eliza,’ her father chided. ‘Banjo needs to appear on the show for Australia to see he isn’t the bad boy of his past, that he’s grown up, but he doesn’t want to take a girl home at the end of it.’

  ‘Then why did you agree to it in the first place?’ She speared him with a glare of her own, hands on her hips so she wouldn’t launch across the room and hit them both. If he was so allergic to commitment and the possibility of true love, why had he said yes? Probably because he could.

  Banjo opened his mouth. Closed it again. Shrugged. ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’

  That accompanying shrug made Eliza see red. This was one of the single most important assignments she had ever worked on in television and this guy was going to stuff it up for all of them. ‘Throw him to the curb, Malcolm. If he doesn’t want to be here, we’ll find another guy.’

  ‘We can’t do that,’ her father said with a shake of his balding head. ‘This is the way it’s going to be. Are you with us or not?’

  Could she say no? She’d been working for her father for three long years and this was meant to be the job that showed him she wasn’t useless. That she wasn’t a problem to be tucked away. That she deserved his time and his affection. If she told him to shove it right there and then, that would be the end of it and she would be alone.

  She’d had more than enough of being alone.

  But could she deceive the nation night after night, week after week? ‘What about the other girls? They want to find love too. It will crush them when you don’t show an interest.’

  ‘He’ll show an interest. He will go on dates, kiss a few girls, have an adventure or two, but at the end of the show, when you and one other girl are left standing, you will get the rose.’

  ‘And after that?’ she asked, finally making eye contact with Banjo in the hopes he would catch a hint of her turmoil and let her off the hook.

  ‘We leave the show together. We have a few dinners, catch a movie, be seen out and about for a week or so. Then we fight and go our separate ways. Your father gets the season and the fanfare, I get a few interviews to buzz my stores and my new and improved image, then we all go our separate ways. Six weeks, tops.’

  ‘And me? What do I get out of it?’

  Her father’s eyes narrowed. ‘What more do you want? I’m paying you a bloody good wage. I gave you the producer’s spot even though there were others in line before you. I agreed to air your little documentary.’

  Her blood boiled and her cheeks heated. Little documentary? The problem of Sydney’s out of control teenagers wasn’t little and neither was the time she’d put into the feature. But she wouldn’t remind him of that fact again. Not here. Nor would she remind him that a midnight time slot was not what she’d had in mind. ‘And now you’re taking most of that away from me. I can’t produce from the other side of the camera. You’re also both forgetting a few very important facts.’

  ‘Which are?’ Malcolm asked, his voice low as though he had to force it through clenched teeth.

  ‘One.’ She ticked off the number on her finger with more force than was probably necessary. ‘I’m no beauty nor am I a spring chicken. Two, too many people know I’m your daughter.’ They’d featured in the Australian Woman’s Weekly for God’s sake. Father reunited with his long lost daughter after more than twenty years, the headline had read. Another load of crap for the viewers. Her dad was all about the ratings. ‘And three, I don’t want to do it.’ Eliza wanted to be a serious producer of serious pieces. Documentaries about Africa and Gaza and the world. She wanted to be the next David Attenborough not the next reject bimbo. She needed this producer’s spot to kick-start her career. She needed the exposure so she could get backers of her own, investors to build a youth centre for the teens.

  Malcolm stood and came around his huge desk. ‘Banjo, would you give us a moment?’

  ‘Sure thing.’

  As soon as the door closed, Eliza crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the man who had only been her father for four years. ‘I can’t do this and we both know it. It isn’t ethical, it isn’t right and it isn’t how I want to be seen.’

  ‘How do you want to be seen, Eliza? By the staff at the welfare office when you pick up your unemployment cheque?’

  ‘You’d fire me? I’m your daughter.’ Did she still mean that little? Her chest ached.

  ‘You would leave me no choice. Here, you are my employee and I need go-getters. I need people who will get the job done, no matter the muck, moral or otherwise. Do you know how many girls around here would stick a knife in your back to get this opportunity? We interviewed four thousand women for this gig for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘Then why can’t one of them do it? Get them to sign the confidentiality agreement. Get them to babysit Banjo.’

  Her father sighed, drew a deep breath and turned his back on her to stare out over Sydney’s spectacular harbour, the choppy surface of the water glinting under the sun like sequins under a light. ‘Because I need you to do it.’

  He what? Her father didn’t need anything from anyone. He’d made that abundantly clear.

  He turned back to question her silence but she couldn’t find words. Should she laugh in his face or hear him out?

  ‘I need you to do this for me because I can’t trust anyone else. You and I both know how flimsy those agreements are. It’s my integrity and the reputation of my station on the line. If word of this were to get out, the damage would be instant and impossible to undo. I could sue from here to Timbuktu but I could never get the truth back.’

  ‘Then why do it in the first place?’ There was still something missing from the story.

  ‘We’re about to go under. If She’s The One doesn’t bring in some big ratings and rewards, then we’re out of a job. All of us.’

  The breath left her in a whoosh and Eliza tipped into the chair at her back, still warm from Banjo’s body heat. ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘No one does, honey. Just me and the board and if I, we, don’t nail this, we’re all out on our bums with nothing. If we score this one and hit it out of the park, then we’re back on the map and the world is our oyster.’

  Mixed metaphors aside, he really did need her. Eliza Peterson, who had never been needed for anything in her entire life, was finally being leaned on. Her chest filled with pride and she stood and threw her arms around her father’s neck. ‘I’ll do it but not for the station. If I’m going to do it, then I’m doing it for you.’

  ***

  Banjo leaned against the wall in the hall, his hands in the pockets of his designer jeans as responsibility called his name. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. He’d signed up for She’s The One at the end of last year as a lark. A few weeks of his downtime making out with beautiful women and not being called a jerk for it. It was supposed to be a bit of fun between ski seasons.
<
br />   Now it was all a monumental mess. On the one hand he hoped Eliza stood her ground and refused, but on the other hand, she already seemed the perfect fit to play his pretend girlfriend.

  But not beautiful?

  Had she never looked in a mirror? She may not be supermodel tall but she was so slim in that sexy, tight pencil skirt, it was a wonder the air conditioner didn’t blow her over. Her pale complexion was flawless, her thick brown curly hair shiny, every ringlet perfect as it sat on her shoulders. Intelligence shone from hazel eyes guaranteeing she wouldn’t be boring or ditzy. But life was never that easy. Not for Banjo.

  The murmur of voices came from behind the closed door. They were talking about him, the oh-so-slimy weasel, Malcolm, and his fuming blind-sided daughter. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get it all over and done with. Either they’d can the show or he’d have to switch to Plan B.

  First he’d have to come up with a Plan B.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked the screen with a groan before answering. ‘Uncle Pete, how are you?’

  ‘Banjo, what’s going on? Were you able to cancel the show?’

  ‘I tried, Uncle Pete, I really tried, but my hands are tied in this. I signed a contract.’

  The board of directors temporarily running his company were against him going on She’s The One and had told him to put a stop to it, but it was never so black and white where contracts were concerned.

  ‘This is not going to look good to the rest of the members. What do you want me to tell them?’ His main competitor, Luke Westwood, had starred on a similar television show on another network and he hadn’t come out smelling like roses. But then again, he had eventually found love, so there was that.

  An idea came to him, one he hadn’t wanted to admit was a good one. Mostly because the idea hadn’t entirely been his own. ‘I’m going to find myself a wife.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘I’m going to give the show a good go and see if I can’t find someone I could see myself settling down with. If the members see me happy, maybe they’ll back off and give their signatures?’ He needed the six men to unanimously agree he was ready to take on the whole company and his inheritance. His board of directors were dead keen to give him the boot and had to be appeased. It seemed the only option was to show them he’d change his bad boy ways and settle down, be responsible. God, he hated that word.