Cole leaned forward, not even trying to disguise his eavesdropping. There wasn’t much to hear on Tyler’s end before his friend cut off the call with a hasty, “Okay, yeah, we’ll talk later.” When he punched the button to end the call, Tyler finally met his prying gaze.
“Looks like we’re headed to Upstate New York,” he said. “Some small town called Friar Hollow.”
Cole frowned. “What’s with the look? Are they tightening the budget again?” Cole had never felt the need to beat around the bush with Tyler, and now was hardly the time to start.
Tyler shook his head, but his brows were still furrowed together in concern. “No, nothing like that. It’s just…” He trailed off with a muttered curse before making eye contact again with a weary sigh. “Reeves is going with the lady who just split from her fiancé.”
Cole stared at him for a moment. “What? But why? The whole point of the show—”
Tyler waved away the rest of the comment, because no one knew the point of the show as well as Tyler. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But apparently—” He stopped to scrub a hand over his face. “Apparently the ratings have been sliding and he thinks this will be a good opportunity to do something new. Something…”
“Fresh,” Cole finished for him because he too knew Langston Reeves. Much as he tried to avoid the big boss, Cole had been in enough meetings with Langston to know exactly what he would have said. He loved to talk about ways they could make the six-series-old show “fresh.” He was forever looking for gimmicks and angles to make it newsworthy and relevant.
“Exactly,” Tyler said, reaching for his coffee with an air of resignation.
“So, what’s the plan?” Cole asked, not even bothering to mask his irritation. “We go and surprise some lady who’s going through a breakup? We splash her heartbreak on national television because it’s good TV?”
‘Good TV’ was another one of Langston Reeves’ favorite terms. He was forever on the hunt for their next “special episode.” Cole’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, but Tyler just nodded. “That about sums it up.”
Now it was Cole’s turn to mutter a curse and Tyler gave him a rueful smile. “Yup. That about sums it up,” he repeated.
Cole squirmed in his seat.
"She'll never agree to it." But even as he said it, Cole realized that he was likely wrong. The type of people who wanted to be on these shows? Well, there was no telling how low they'd stoop for a whiff of fame. He'd met some people who seemed willing to sell their very souls for the opportunity to be a star, if for only one night.
"You know she won't have a choice," Tyler said. He had a point. The lawyers from the network had filled the release forms with ironclad clauses. People who signed them basically signed their rights away.
"So, what...?" Cole shifted in his seat, that uncomfortable sensation was back, and it felt a whole heck of a lot like guilt. He wanted no part of something like this. "We're going to make this a very special break-up episode?"
Tyler scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the table. Cole got the feeling his friend couldn't have made eye contact if he’d tried.
“This isn't right," Cole said. Somebody needed to say it.
Tyler didn't disagree. He held his hands out palms up. "We don't have a choice."
Cole’s jaw clenched. His friend was right. For as much as he might've been the face of the show, he never called the shots. Well, not on any of the major decisions, like which house or what couple, or how it would be filmed. His role was solely to make sure that the house turned out great, and for the most part he was happy with his part. He'd never once wished for Tyler's position, or any of the responsibility that came with it.
But at this particular moment, he hated knowing that he had no say in the matter. “It doesn’t seem right.”
Tyler gave him a forced smile. “Maybe this lady will be happy about it.”
Cole arched a brow. “Happy to have her personal pain covered in detail for the sake of riveting television?”
“Haven’t you heard? There’s no such thing as bad publicity,” Tyler said.
Again with the inside jokes. Tyler had been saying that to him since day one of working together. It made Cole’s lip curl up in disgust today just like it had six years ago.
“Just because you hate the spotlight doesn’t mean that anyone else shares your opinions,” Tyler continued, clearly warming to the topic, most likely because it let him and his conscience off the hook. “The people who want to be on this show are seeking the limelight, my friend. This woman included. She’ll probably thank us.”
Cole eyed his friend, and for the first time since they met he wondered if Tyler had ever actually had a life outside of the TV show. He doubted it. Anyone who’d ever had his heart broken would know how ridiculous that sounded. And as someone who’d had his heartbreak occur in the media while his whole life fell apart? Cole knew exactly how torturous that could be.
Tyler leaned forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, man. And stop glaring at me like that. Trust me, this woman will thank her lucky stars that that engagement is off once she learns that she’ll be the only star of One Step at a Time’s most hyped episode.”
Cole let out a huff of cynical amusement at Tyler’s certainty. He probably had a point. Anyone who signed their life away to this show likely wanted the fame, right? They were actively seeking it out.
Just then a loud screech brought their attention to the goings on outside the trailer and Cole spotted the happy couple going at it again in the driveway.
If this newly single woman was anything like the last few couples he’d had the dubious pleasure of working with, she’d probably be all too happy for the attention.
“Come on,” Tyler said, already getting to his feet and heading to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
Cole followed, but as he stepped out into the morning sun, he couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in his gut. Shame. Shame that he was part of a show that could so heartlessly share another person’s pain for profit.
He hoped Tyler was right and this lady would be grateful for the attention, otherwise…
Otherwise, what? Tyler was right—his hands would be tied just as much as hers.
The couple before him turned to face them with matching fake smiles because the director had called “action.”
Okay, yeah, Tyler was probably totally right, and maybe getting the prime episode would help ease whatever pain came with her broken engagement. But even so, the reminder of how hard it had been to be heartbroken in the limelight almost had him feeling sorry for her.
Chapter Three
Angela had been right. Callie and Leah really had hit it off right away.
That next Monday when Callie had gone to her new school to work on her room and prepare for the first day of school, she’d heard her name being shouted from down the hall. She’d turned to find a pretty blonde racing toward her with a giant grin. The other woman had been decked out in a sundress, with full makeup, and manicured nails that had Callie hiding her own fingers after returning the woman’s impulsive hug.
“Angela told me to keep an eye out for the new girl, and here you are!” Leah’s smile was friendly and genuine, and Callie instantly forgot to feel self-conscious about her unpainted nails and grubby appearance.
She never had been much for dresses, and since school hadn’t started yet she’d shown up to work on her classroom in cutoff jean shorts and a bright blue tank top.
Leah had taken charge of the conversation, filling her in on all the teacher gossip while asking her questions about her new house, the new job—mercifully leaving out any questions about her love life, which led Callie to believe that Angela had not only told Leah to look out for the new teacher, but to avoid asking any awkward questions to boot.
Her newfound friend dropped off her own supplies but then came back to keep Callie company, which was how the tedious chore ended up being a quick, fun morning filled with laughs. Leah even offered t
o give her a ride home, since she’d walked to the elementary school earlier that day.
“Do you have company?” Leah asked as they turned onto Callie’s street.
Callie glanced ahead to see a van parked in the driveway and she straightened for a better view. Her first thought was as stupid as it was irritating. Brent’s back!
She blinked and shoved the idea right out of her head. Why would Brent be driving a strange van? A rental, maybe?
She squelched that little voice of hope. A rental van with out of state plates? Really? That made no sense.
Besides, now that they’d drawn closer, she noticed a few other vans parked farther down the road. Maybe those other cars were visiting her neighbors?
Leah pulled to a stop across the street. “Are you all right? Do you want me to come with you?”
It wasn’t until Leah spoke that Callie realized she’d been sitting there too long, staring with a furrowed brow at the van in her driveway. “What? Oh…uh, no.” She forced a smile in the direction of this new friend, overwhelmed with a surge of gratitude that she was finally starting to form some connections in this community. “Thanks, though.”
Whoever was here, they’d probably gotten the wrong address or something. With that thought, she climbed out of the car and waved Leah off before heading up to her front door. She’d only made it halfway up the drive when the back door to the van opened and out clambered a blond man and another fellow who had a camera on his shoulder.
She blinked in surprise.
But then her lips parted in shock as she watched a third man exit the vehicle with the sort of panther-like grace that had always seemed to come so naturally to the former college-football-star-turned-TV-heartthrob.
Cole Harding.
She would have known him anywhere, but seeing him there in her driveway was more than her brain could manage. She fumbled for sanity but it was too late. Her mind was shutting down in the face of this man. Adrenaline raced through her making her shake.
She was star-struck. That must be what this sensation was. She’d never been star-struck before.
That was all she could think as the three men approached her with varying degrees of friendliness. The blond man was wearing a giant, ingratiating grin, while Cole Harding—Cole Harding!!!—wore a stern expression that she recognized well. His eyes were slightly narrowed and his gaze was locked on her, making it impossible to breathe as he slowly moved toward her, all sexy manliness in his jeans, heavy boots, and faded green T-shirt.
She tore her eyes away to the third man, the one whose expression was easy and confident. But his smile wasn’t nearly as diverting as the camera on his shoulder. The one that was aimed in her direction.
Wait, was that on?
And more importantly, what on earth were they doing here?
“Tyler Arnold,” the first man said as he stuck a hand out in her direction.
“Callie Wright,” she said automatically. Apparently good manners managed to exist without higher reasoning. She let Tyler ensnare her hand in his but it sat limp in his grip. She could barely feel her limbs right now, let alone manage a firm handshake.
All three of them had reached her now, and while she didn’t see a light on the camera, she was still absurdly aware of its presence. That did nothing to help her stunned state.
Excellent. Now she wasn’t just star-struck, she was also suffering from stage fright.
The thought brought with it a wave of hysterical giggles that she swallowed down before they could escape.
She’d look like a lunatic if she laughed right now. Besides, there was nothing to laugh about. She knew who these guys were—Cole Harding’s presence here confirmed it even if the cameraman hadn’t given it away. But it didn’t make any sense. She’d talked to the people at the network. She’d explained that her situation had changed. Hadn’t they gotten the memo?
She made the mistake of moving her gaze back to Cole. Her mouth went dry and her body grew way too hot as she struggled to find words. “W-what are you…” She had to stop to swallow. “What are you doing here?”
“Congratulations, Ms. Wright,” Tyler said. “You’ve been chosen to be our next project.”
She blinked so rapidly her contacts nearly fell out. “I’m your project?”
“Your house.” Those were the first words uttered by the great Cole Harding and his voice was just as deep and rough in real life as it was on TV.
She found herself gawking up at him, but he either didn’t notice or was so used to it, he didn’t care. His gaze was firmly fixed on the house in question. The house they expected him to renovate…
Her gasp was so loud it had all three men staring at her in alarm, and she could feel her cheeks going lava hot. Was it her imagination or could she actually feel Cole Harding’s eyes on her?
It’s your imagination, dummy.
When she glanced back at him to confirm that he was in fact staring at her, she noticed that he had a wary look to him. So did this Tyler guy.
The cameraman was the only one who seemed unfazed by her loud gasp as he tilted his head to look through the lens.
Oh no. It was on.
Her lips turned to sandpaper, but she forced herself to speak. “There’s been a mistake.”
Tyler’s smooth grin flickered a bit before he seemed to catch himself. “No mistake, ma’am.”
“Callie,” she corrected. Yet again, some instincts seemed to be so deeply ingrained that they’d survive all kinds of shock. She had the sudden and deep-seated knowledge that her aversion to being called ma’am would survive a nuclear holocaust.
Callie gave her head a little shake. What was she doing just standing here like a moron? She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “No, you don’t understand,” she said, hoping that her panic wasn’t as obvious to them as it was to her.
They couldn’t actually see her heart racing through her tank top, right?
“Um, you see, I called your office. I mean, I talked to…someone.” She winced as she mentally cursed herself for not asking for a name. The nice lady on the phone had been so understanding, so sweet, so…anonymous.
Tyler’s smile didn’t fade—if anything, it turned knowing. Sympathetic, but smug. “Yes, Ms. Wright—”
“Callie.”
“Callie,” he repeated. “We understand that there has been a change in your circumstances, but—”
“Change in my circumstances?” It just sort of slipped out through her numb lips. He made it sound like she’d filed an address change or maybe switched jobs. “I don’t have a fiancé.”
“Yes, we understand that,” Tyler said.
Maybe it was the ‘we,’ but Callie found herself looking to Cole Harding. Surely he had to understand the significance of what she was saying.
Those dark gray eyes were focused on her with an intensity that was even more unnerving than being called ma’am. But he said nothing.
She turned back to Tyler. “So you see, there’s no way I can be on the show.” She couldn’t help the fact that she’d slipped into her teacher tone. That was how she tended to talk when faced with small children or large adults who couldn’t seem to understand what was right in front of their faces.
“They don’t care.” There was that low rumble again. It could have been mistaken for a truck coming down the road if it wasn’t for the fact that the sexy baritone formed words.
Words that were only now sinking in as she stared at the face she knew so well.
Well, not knew, but recognized.
They don’t care. They don’t care? “What…what does that even mean?” she asked.
Tyler made a hand gesture to the camera guy and the man did something—pressed a button or something—all she knew was that he lowered the device and moved his head so he was facing her head-on with that same, immoveable, easygoing smile.
They’d stopped filming.
Oh thank goodness.
She took a deep breath, slightly more at ease now that there was no lo
nger a camera in her face. She cast a quick sidelong look at Cole Harding.
Slightly more at ease. ‘Slightly’ was the key word there. Most of her was still a jumble of nerves in the face of her favorite college football player-turned-favorite TV celebrity.
The man had been a phenom on the field, but working on a house? He was a maestro. A genius. Depending on the need, he used brute force or grace and patience that would have made a bonsai master weep. The man was a superhero, and...
And the man was glaring at her.
She blinked and licked her lips. Oh boy, how long had she been staring? Too long, judging by his stern look and the way the other two men were shifting awkwardly, almost like they were trying to get her attention.
Earth to Callie, these men were here for a reason, and it was a bad one. A terrible one.
“That’s impossible.” She surprised herself with the force of her answer.
She’d shocked these men, too, if their resounding silence was anything to go by.
“I don’t think you understand,” Tyler said slowly, a small smile still fixed on his face. “This is what you wanted—”
“What I wanted was my beautiful home to be repaired in the way it deserves.” She glanced over at Cole and saw that he was once again eyeing her home, that disconcerting intensity now focused on her house rather than her.
The thought didn’t help to ease her tension. If anything, she felt even more anxious. Powerless even. This house was her baby…her incredibly large, three-story baby. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to swoop the whole thing up into her arms and keep it safe from harm.
“Beautiful,” Cole muttered.
She blinked at him. He was talking about the house. Of course he was talking about the house.
And it was beautiful. The Victorian might have been run down but it was a gorgeous structure—made with the sort of craftsmanship and quality that was so hard to find these days. The paint had weathered, and the porch sagged, but beneath all the superficial shabbiness, the home had the skeleton of an angel. Not everyone appreciated just how beautiful it was…
The (Not So) Perfect Fiancé Page 3
