Queen of Hearts
Page 1
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Table of Contents
Cover
Synopsis
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by Sheryl Wright
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Bella Books
Synopsis
Can love found on television become true love?
When the producers of the new TV reality show, Queen of Hearts, receive a last minute cancellation by one of the show’s contestants, they know their show is in jeopardy of never airing at all. Desperate for a solution, they set out to convince helicopter pilot Ally Parker to join her cousin Pam on the program. Ally reluctantly agrees, but only after being assured that she’ll be eliminated in the first round.
Erin Bogner isn’t looking for love either. Convinced by her employer to be a secret plant on the show, Erin’s job is to weed out the contestants only looking for money and help Pam find true love. Erin has no interest in anything beyond making her employer happy.
But things seem to change for everyone once the game begins. Ally finds herself meeting a contestant that stirs something deep inside. And Erin discovers it may be difficult to fulfill her mission of helping her employer at any cost.
What happens when the game they’re all playing becomes real? The world is tuning in to find out…
Copyright © 2018 by Sheryl Wright
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
First Bella Books Edition 2018
eBook released 2018
Editor: Katherine V. Forrest
Cover Designer: Judith Fellows
ISBN: 978-1-64247-019-2
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Other Bella Books by Sheryl Wright
Don’t Let Go
Stay with Me
Acknowledgments
While writing is a solo pursuit, turning a manuscript into a reader-worthy book takes a team. I have to tell you, I’m extremely fortunate to have an exceptional team on my side. The women at Bella Books are professionals and more. I’m lucky to consider them mentors and friends.
To Katherine V. Forrest, author and editor extraordinaire, who I make work way too hard, but has shockingly decided I might be worth it; publisher Linda Hill, a patient and caring friend; Jessica Hill, who answers all my foolish questions with kindness and insight; and Laina Villeneuve, fellow Bella author, who comprehends the weird compulsion to write and cheers me on. Let me wish you each, in my language, the only gratitude suitable: Nia:wen’ kó:wa.
About the Author
I didn’t start out wanting to be a writer. I wanted to be an astronaut. Being born in 1961, a girl, and not American, convinced my parents I had lost my little mind. So, to keep the peace, I set my sights slightly lower, deciding on the earthlier altitude of a pilot. (If we ever meet in person, ask me to tell you the cosmonaut story.)
Flying was my joy. It was my air. I needed it to breathe. On the eve of the millennium, I suffered a Surgical Misfortune. I learned that phrase from reading a lesbian medical-themed romance, not from anyone responsible for the situation. Emotionally, it was like falling from the sky and waking up lost in the wilderness. Like Edgar Allen Poe’s epic poem Evangeline, I was forced to make my way from my beloved home through the inhospitable boreal forest. I did so, not on horseback, but by words. One word at a time. I was teaching myself how to breathe again. It was slow going, but word by word I began to find my way and come to terms with my new reality. In time the words I’d written for myself become ideas to build on—stories to share. Without realizing it, I was learning to breathe again, not with jet fuel, but by using paper and ink.
In the early days of my writing, I was like a potter up to her elbows in clay, experimenting and discovering my craft. It took time before I reached a place where I understood not just my strengths and weaknesses but what I loved. Authors sculpt their works like potters, turning out everything from cheap earthenware to fine Wedgewood. While I would love to boast of skills needed to turn out a literary masterpiece, I find I’m better suited applying my skills to the craft in a more approachable way. Think of a potter at a craft fair. Someone with unique and colorful creations you can surprisingly afford to buy. That’s the author I strive to be. I live to create stories which are fresh, sometimes quirky, sometimes challenging, but always from the heart. You can reach me at: info@sherylwright.com.
Dedication
For Dawn
Chapter One
“What? No! No way! Have you lost your mind?”
“Allyson, really?” Pamela Parker questioned with an insincere grin. “It’s not like you’ll last long, so what’s the problem?”
Connie, eighteen years younger than her brilliant and successful sister, gave her the look of death before turning her attention and her doe-like eyes back on their cousin, pleading, “Allyson, please! We can’t proceed without four queens. It’s the premise of the whole show. Come on Ally, I need you, and I promise to make up for this. Please,” she begged again.
“Think about our investment,” Pam offered, more kindly than her insult that Ally would fall at the first elimination.
Pam and Ally had been born only weeks apart but how different could two cousins be? Growing up, Pamela Parker was pretty, smart, outgoing—The Everything Girl. And still was. Her cousin Allyson Parker was—well, her mother had spent most of the girl’s childhood making excuses for her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t any achievements of her own. Pam might be some highfalutin’ attorney in Chicago, but Allyson was successful too, just on her own terms. She was a pilot and ran a helicopter charter company out of Toronto. No, she wasn’t a conventional beauty like Pam. No, she wasn’t a partner in the biggest law firm in Chicago. No, she would never rake in the big bucks like her cousin. But she managed her trust fund with brilliance and had invested so wisely she could claim the same income as Pam if she were the type to
compare tit for tat. But that wasn’t Ally.
“It’s not being eliminated first that worries me. It’s the opposite. What if I’m not eliminated first? I have a company to run, and we just acquired a commuter airline. KC and I already have our hands full. I can’t dump everything on her.”
Pam started to laugh. It was that arrogant laugh that made Ally angry and had since they were kids. Before she could think of some stinging retort, young Connie intervened. “Look, I know this is a lot to consider, but we’re screwed if you don’t. And Pam is right about one thing. You each invested a hundred grand in this project. If we start production without four Primaries, the network will pull its contract. I’ll end up on the TV and film convention circuit trying to flog this and with everyone knowing we bailed on our network agreement. I’ll never sell another show. And as for directing, well, I’ll be the example they use in every film school of what not to do.”
Allyson groaned, but Connie was right. If they didn’t find and vet a new Primary for this ridiculous reality TV production Connie had created, her money was gone and the kid’s career was over. She slumped back in her chair, defeated. “What do I have to do?”
* * *
Connie stood on the broad, grand entry to Glendennon Castle Academy for Young Women, the Toronto location for most of The Queen of Hearts shoot and the backdrop for the show’s opening scene. Beside her, Tommy Proulx, Fashionista and Toronto International Film Festival goddess, had been tapped to act as narrator and on-camera personality. “Everyone’s ready, Tommy. Are you?”
“Oh sweetie, I was born ready. Are you?”
Connie just smiled.
“Don’t be nervous, honey,” he offered with a side hug. You’ve blocked everything out perfectly and the women, oh the women! My goodness, they’re raring to go. So, let’s get to it, baby girl. The day’s a-wastin’.”
Connie smiled again, returning to her place beside the camera operator and the sound tech. She set the bullhorn down; she didn’t need it for this unless she had to call cut and that would piss her off. They had rehearsed this opening most of the previous day. The only thing different this time was instead of a stand-in for the four queens walking over to be introduced to the contestants vying for their hearts, the true Primaries, the actual four queens, would each make a spectacular entrance and be introduced to the women for the first time. She wanted this shot to work without retakes. She needed her audience to see the look on the women’s faces. See their interest and be able to speculate on just which Primaries would be selected to compete for the heart of each contestant.
This was the big reveal and the detail that had sold her show to the network. They loved how she had turned the whole bachelorette thing on its head by creating a show where the women had some choices and power. Four Primaries or queens would be introduced and given time to get to know the contestants before the women began whittling down the pool. From that point, the show would run pretty much along the same format as any of the reality TV bachelor-style competitions, with contestants focused on their favorite bachelorette or queen. And she had incorporated one more hitch: contestants could switch allegiances at any time. Again, putting the pressure on the bachelorettes, or queens as she had named them, to up their game too.
Taking one more look across the wide grand lawn of Glendennon Castle, she sucked in a deep breath. This was it. Beside her, the assistant director called, “Quiet on the set! Roll sound.”
“Speed.”
“Frame.”
“Action!”
“Welcome to historic Glendennon Castle and the Queen of Hearts!” Tommy began his intro, explaining in simple terms and with great enthusiasm how the game was played. Then he turned to the two uniformed valets standing as side-boys and waved grandly for the doors to open. The contestants exited the grand foyer one at a time, allowing Tommy to capture each woman and introduce her in a few words.
Connie knew she’d have to edit this section with an eye for time, but that wouldn’t happen until they were down to the final six and knew on whom to focus. For now, it was Tommy’s show, and she let him have fun and take the time he needed. Once all the women vying to earn the affection of the Queen of Hearts had been introduced, she called “Cut!” before moving to the group and helping Tommy get them lined up. Now they looked more like a group of alumni lining up for a class shoot. Not happy with that, she took some time, moving women from spot to spot until she and Tommy were pleased with the on-camera look.
Back beside the camera operator, she called “Action!” again, then waved to the wrangler responsible for getting the Primaries, the four women bachelorettes competing for the love of one of these stunning women, on the move. Thirty seconds later a super car, a Mosler MT900S, ripped past the ornate entry gates, racing up the drive, skidding around the oval to the grand entry, and squealing to a stop. Some of the women in the line of contestants jumped back, but the driver, obviously skilled and confident, had never placed them in danger. A hush fell as they waited expectantly for the first of the Primaries vying to be the Queen of Hearts to step from the extravagant supercar.
Rene Santos-Dumont, a tech millionaire and Queen of Hearts Primary number one, opened the low-slung door, easing her lithe, six-foot frame from the vehicle, dressed in racing leathers that fit like a second skin. Her short-cropped black hair and designer shades added to her adrenaline-fueled grin as she strode with purpose to where Tommy was standing and boldly offered her hand. There was no question this woman liked to be in charge, and she was hot if you liked the lean, fearless-butch type. Judging by the reaction of the thirty contestants in line, some very much did.
Tommy was aghast. “What an entrance! Heavens me, I can hardly breathe!”
“It’s exciting to be here and wow, what a group of women,” Rene offered, with a slightly wolfish grin as she tipped her head in admiration of the contestants. Tommy spent a few minutes interviewing Rene for the audience and the contestants. Then he moved her to her mark as the camera panned back to the big entry gates and Connie signaled for the next queen to make her entrance.
Instead of some high-performance supercar ripping up the grand drive, a timeless Rolls Royce ambled up, looking very much at home against the classic design of the Castle’s grand lawn. Reaching its mark it stopped majestically, and they waited breathlessly as a uniformed driver circled behind the classic ride and opened the rear door for its passenger.
Virginia Hazelton-Jackson, the young and infamous lesbian debutante, emerged with feline grace. She wouldn’t need an introduction to anyone who read the gossip rags. She offered her hand to Tommy in that classic manner of ladies expecting it to be kissed. Tommy, always the perfect gentleman, bowed before taking her hand and doing exactly that.
Connie, curious to see the reaction of the contestants, noted that a few looked to almost swoon over the blond beauty. Perfect. While Tommy began his mini-interview she signaled for the next entry. This one would require a longer lead time. Connie had staged the cars just outside the gates and out of sight of the women, but this one had needed to be miles away to keep the noise from interfering with the sound.
Right on time, Tommy moved Virginia to her mark just to the left of Rene and smiled while the cameras turned toward the entry gate. As the women and cameras panned back and forth, waiting in excitement for the next queen to arrive, the sound of a helicopter grew louder and louder until it passed just over the ornate gates, hovered over the lawn, and finally set down a few hundred feet from the grand entry. Some of the women wrestled with their hair or dress to keep them from being disheveled, but it wasn’t really necessary. The sleek executive helicopter was just far enough away to prevent any real upsets. Two women dressed as side-boys made their way to the chopper, ducking as they moved under the spinning blades. Opening the rear door, a tall, statuesque brunette stepped down from the helo, accepting the arm of the castle guard. Once clear of the rotor arch, the helicopter lifted off and quickly sped away, taking its noise and whirlwind with it. By the tim
e this next queen was at Tommy’s side, all noise had vanished, and they could chat on-camera normally. “Let’s welcome Pamela Parker to the Queen of Hearts,” Tommy gushed. “Pamela, what an entrance! Tell us, is that how you normally travel?”
Poised and confident, the tall beauty was a natural on-camera. “Not always, Tommy, but when it makes sense why not skip the traffic altogether?”
Tommy practically snorted in delight. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to have you here. Now, I know all about you, but let’s share a few tidbits for these ladies and our audience at home. Tell us about your practice. I understand you’re a criminal defense attorney and partner with a prestigious firm in Chicago. What inspired you to take up the law?”
“Oh Tommy, since I was a little girl I’ve wanted to help those less fortunate than myself. I can’t tell you what a privilege it is to save the wrongly convicted from a life in prison. Every day I meet young men and women who are victims of circumstance. The small part I play in helping them regain their freedom gives me the inspiration to work harder and help as much as I can.”
“You say it’s a small part you play, but if I were in the shoes of some of your clients, I would thank my lucky stars to have you on my side.”
“I was raised to understand that those born to privilege have a responsibility to society. Some of my clients are accused of heinous crimes they didn’t commit. If saving their lives and ensuring they get the chance they deserve takes everything I have, then it’s well worth it.”
“Said like a true champion of the downtrodden. Brava!”
While they chatted on, Connie signaled for the last queen. Secretly she worried that her cousin’s arrival would be a bit of a letdown after the building excitement, but she also knew she could cut the digital recordings any way she wanted and, if she kept Ally in the last slot, it would give the network something to cut if they decided to increase the commercial break.