“We both live in New York.”
“I won’t be there for months.”
“You’ll be back, and I’m not afraid of flying, not to mention you’ll have several weeks off when the filming moves to the contestants’ house.”
“Only for two weeks and not for two months. Which doesn’t matter anyway. This was supposed to be…” A one-night stand. She couldn’t say it out loud despite the wild hair that had made her bold a few moments before.
“I know what it was supposed to be, but it wasn’t and it’s not. It was never going to be, if we’re both honest with ourselves.”
She suddenly knew what he’d meant when he said he wanted to come to her room “too much.” She liked him too much. Too much for all kinds of reasons. Namely, that no matter how much she didn’t want him to be her competitor, or the wrong guy she made the right guy, she really had no control over either thing. No control was bad when she was headed to the first day of a big career move that not only terrified her as much as he did, but meant as much to her family as it did to her.
“No. No. This is bad. This—” she waved a finger between them “—is not smart.” She grabbed her bag and tried to move around him. It caught on something, her own foot probably. She stumbled and fell forward and, once again, smack into Blake, just as she had done on the red carpet. His strong hands went to her elbows, his long, hard body catching hers. The concern in his blue eyes stirred a tidal wave inside her. She wanted this man in a bad way, but it was so much more than that. There was this warm feeling in her chest that seemed to expand and do funny things to her stomach.
“It appears the universe is conspiring to throw you into my arms,” he suggested. “Maybe you should listen.”
The door across from them opened. “I guess I know what ‘truce with benefits’ means,” came a female voice.
Lana. The warm spot in Darla’s chest turned to ice. “It appears,” Darla said, replying to Blake, “that the universe has a wicked sense of humor.”
Darla pushed out of Blake’s arms, and with no plan, turned to face Lana. She wore a black sweatsuit, her red hair falling in contrasting silky waves around her shoulders. She wore no makeup and she looked fabulous. Darla wilted, unable to find her voice.
Blake came to the rescue, quickly explaining away their behavior. “The only ‘benefits’ being received this early in the morning are my personal baggage boy services.” He grabbed Darla’s suitcase and walked toward Lana, who had one as well, and motioned to her to hand it over. “I’ll take yours, too. You can both thank me by not giving me a hard time on camera later.”
Lana’s lips lifted, and Darla couldn’t help but envy how pink and perfect they were. “There’s nothing wrong with a scandal,” she said. “It’s good for ratings. In fact, it’s job security.”
“Meagan hates scandal,” Darla warned. “You have to know that.”
“And the studio likes ratings,” Lana assured her, making Darla’s argument irrelevant. She scooted her bag in Blake’s direction. “I do love a man with muscle and manners.”
Ratings. Darla heard that familiar bad word with shattering clarity. Lana was going to turn this into ratings, and say to hell with Meagan. Darla knew Meagan trusted her to help maintain a certain image for the show. She didn’t want to be the ratings boost—at least, not like this. She had to say something, do something. Fix this.
“My father,” Blake said, speaking up in what Darla hoped might be that “fix” because she really had nothing of her own, “raised a scandal-free gentleman. He taught me that a good man carries a lady’s bag, holds doors and generally uses good manners. Most importantly, he taught me that a gentleman keeps his private life private. Exactly why I keep my attention, and camera, keenly focused accordingly.”
In other words, Darla thought, reading between the lines, Blake wouldn’t be giving Lana any feature on his show if she burned him. Darla was thrilled. This was a perfect “fix.”
Blake turned to Darla, his eyes lighting on hers as he added, “And a gentleman always catches a lady when she falls.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re to blame for both of my falls,” Darla accused in jest, trying to play off his comment so that Lana wouldn’t pick up on the obvious deeper meaning. “The only two times I’ve stood close to this man, I’ve tripped over his big feet.”
“Oh, I see,” Blake said, motioning them all forward. “Is that how it is? It’s my big feet, not your clumsiness?”
Darla fell into step with him at the same time that Lana did. “I’m only clumsy when your big feet are in the way.” Her shoe caught on the carpet in that instant and she tripped, stumbling and barely catching her footing. She righted herself and ignored Lana, who most certainly was laughing. Her attention flashed to Blake and her gaze found his, they both burst into laughter at the same time.
“Okay fine,” she admitted. “I’m not the most graceful person on the planet, but that only makes standing next to those big feet of yours all the more dangerous.” There was a lot about him that was dangerous.
Lana punched the elevator button. “Big feet, big—”
“Lana!” Darla objected, appalled she was going there.
“I guess I do have big feet,” Blake agreed.
“Neither of you are funny,” Darla said, heading into the elevator. Blake joined her, standing beside her, the suitcases parked in front of him. When his arm pressed against hers, Darla felt that one small connection like an electric charge that spread through her entire body. Lana stepped to Blake’s other side. Darla turned to rest against the side wall, facing them both. Blake’s lips twitched and she knew he knew why she’d moved.
Lana settled against the wall across from Darla. Her gaze slid to Blake and then back to Darla and her lips twisted in an evil little smile. “You really are going to have to lighten up to be on this show. Actually. No. Maybe you don’t. I think you might amuse the viewers.”
“Amuse the viewers?” Darla asked, feeling like she’d just been insulted. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Your response defines what I mean,” Lana replied in an amused tone.
Darla never got the chance to respond. The elevator doors opened and Jimmy Davis, one of Meagan’s production assistants, stood waiting for them.
He flipped his cell phone shut and threw his arms in the air. “Thank goodness.” He hit the mic peeking from his mop of blond hair. “They’re here.” He focused on Darla, Blake and Lana as they exited the elevator. Tall and thin, he was dressed in jeans and a tee that looked like they’d been crumpled by his suitcase. “Damnable mountains in combination with the hotel tower is making cell service impossible. We’re doing makeup here. It’s just too much of a madhouse at the audition locale.” He motioned them forward and Darla and Lana scrambled toward him. Behind her, Darla heard him add, “Blake, stay. You’re going down to the garage. We’ll take the suitcases, which I assume are the ladies’. Meagan has a situation. She needs you over there with her, as in yesterday. We have a car waiting.”
Darla turned to find another crew member retrieving the bags from Blake. “What situation?” Darla asked. “What’s happening?”
Jimmy made a shooing motion. “What’s happening is you’re going that way to makeup. Go, go, go!” Another crew member appeared, a young girl Darla had never met. “Follow Allison.”
Darla drew in a breath. Lana shrugged and fell into step behind Allison. The elevator doors shut and Blake was gone with so much unsaid between them, so much unclear.
Jimmy grimaced at Darla. “Please, Darla. I need you out of the main lobby, where we might draw attention.”
Darla quickly tried to catch up with Lana and Allison. To say that she was frazzled was an understatement. She was pretty sure Lana believed that she and Blake had a thing going on. But even if she didn’t, Darla’s gut warned her that Lana would use the possibility as a publicity stunt. Maybe not now, but at some point. Darla had put herself in this spot, starting something with Blake, against her usual good se
nse. Worse, though, was the out-of-character fact that where Blake was concerned, Darla wasn’t sure she had any good sense left to draw on. If she had the chance to hop right back in his arms, regardless of outcome, she all but knew she’d do it. Which made the fact that he was leaving tonight very good. Right. It was a good thing. Her insurance that she would stay out of trouble—the sexy, tempting, really wonderful trouble also known as Blake Nelson.
* * *
THE DRIVE TO THE AUDITION location should have been short, but a road was shut off to accommodate the mixture of contestants waiting to perform and fans hoping to see the celebrity judges. The delay gave Blake time to replay that moment when Darla had stumbled in the hallway, then laughed at herself with him. She’d charmed him then—and ten times over. Charmed him, and taken her sex appeal up yet another notch. That every single thing she did was sexy to him told him this wasn’t about sex at all. He was pretty sure she could have the flu and be red-nosed and he’d think she was sexy.
The car rounded a corner and Blake couldn’t believe his eyes. He sat up, taking in the sight before him. “Holy smokes,” he murmured. There were people and cars everywhere. It was pure mayhem, just as Meagan had said it had been the prior day. He was about to be out there in that mess, interviewing people. Adrenaline pumped through him. He loved everything about the scene—the wild crowds, the energy. That’s why he enjoyed red carpet events. It wasn’t about the stars. It was about the people who came to see them. His studio audiences were important to him. They were what was real, what made him enjoy his work—not the cameras. Like Darla, he thought. She was real. No fluff and stuff. Ambitious, but determined to build a strong career with talent and hard work. Not some get-rich-and-famous publicity scheme. That was rare in this biz. Rare indeed.
A few minutes later, Blake stepped out of the car in the private garage to find Meagan waiting for him. “We have a problem. Or I have a problem. Rick broke his arm in the charity baseball game.”
“And?”
“As in broke it to the point of emergency surgery that didn’t go well.”
“That’s awful.”
“He’ll be all right, but in the meantime we want you to fill in for Rick on the next few shows, until we figure out what comes next. Do this for me, and I’ll make sure the job is yours, if you want it.”
Blake was stunned. “My agent—”
“Is waiting for your call. I faxed him the contract. I know this is short notice. We’ll accommodate footage for your show now and as needed, and we’ll get you a flight home in between this audition show and the one we film Wednesday to take care of whatever you need to take care of.”
Blake had always believed that things that fell in your lap were meant to be—just as he was beginning to believe that the lady who had fallen into his arms was meant to be, as well.
A slow smile slid onto Blake’s lips. “Count me in.”
9
ALL THREE OF THE FEMALE JUDGES, Darla included, sat in chairs lined up inside a small changing room. And all three female judges were receiving the same beautifying treatment. Jason leaned against the wall, one boot pressed to the wall, looking biker bad-boy hot in a way that assured him female audience approval. He’d proven that as a season one judge, but she doubted he cared. He was a famous director. This show wouldn’t make or break him. But it could her. Which only made Darla worry about her own audience approval. She forced the thought away and went back to thinking about Blake, which was better than thinking about how important her performance was today. She didn’t know where they stood. What if Blake left before she got a chance to say goodbye? Alone, that was. If that happened, would that mean that they were officially “off” or that they were still maybe “on”? She’d told him they were off, so surely that would mean they were off. The entire thing between them felt in limbo and incomplete. “Okay, folks,” Jimmy said, rushing into the room. “Let’s review our schedule.”
While Jimmy paced and talked, Darla’s nerves preyed on her. This was it. This was really happening. She was really about to be on one of the hottest shows on television.
“When we get to the hotel,” Jimmy said, pausing to look at the four of them, “you’ll be taking publicity shots as a group. We’ll have the first gang of auditions already inside the building, being prescreened. Once you finish pictures, you’ll head straight into the audition room. We’re beginning at exactly nine, with cameras rolling. We’ll end at precisely seven tonight.”
“What exactly was the crisis Meagan had that required Blake’s help?” Darla asked. “Is this something that we need to know about before we get there?”
“My job is to worry,” Jimmy said. “Your job is to be a star and pick stars.” He touched his headset. “Yes. Right. Coming now.” He glanced at Darla, then his watch, and then, already headed to the door, called over his shoulder, “We leave in fifteen minutes.”
“That man gets so hyper,” Ellie said from the chair where she sat next to Darla, whose pink hair now glistened with the same kind of tiny purple stones she wore on her jeans.
“That might be the only thing we agree on today,” Lana said, standing up to run her hand over her slim-fitting red dress that hit above the knee, her black boots accentuated her long legs. She looked every bit the acclaimed Broadway star. How would Darla live up to that?
“All done,” the stylist said, tearing away the cover over Darla’s own attire—black jeans with cool floral stitching down the sides and a turquoise V-neck tank. She’d loved this outfit days ago when she’d picked it, but not so much now. Now, she felt like the boring schoolteacher in the midst of rock stars. She felt comfortable on her show and her audience was warm and responsive, her staff, too. They all made her feel like she belonged. Now, though, she wondered how she’d ever gotten here. How she’d ever gotten her own show. She was nothing like these people. She was just Darla from Colorado. How was she ever going to impress viewers and keep her place on the show?
* * *
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they were loaded into a limo—Darla and Ellie on one side and Jason and Lana on the other—about to make a grand front-door entrance to the auditions for the crowd with cameras rolling.
“Isn’t it exciting?” Ellie asked, grabbing Darla’s arm, clearly thrilled about the lines of people they were passing. “We’ve come a long way, baby, from last year.”
“She’s excitable,” Lana said, rolling her eyes at Ellie. “Everything is ‘exciting.’ You’ll get use to it.”
“Lana’s a bitch,” Jason said drily. “You’ll get use to it.” He glanced at Darla. “She’ll eat you alive if you let her. Don’t.”
That statement had Darla stiffening her spine and questioning how she was coming off. “I’m nervous,” Darla admitted. “Extremely so. But I’m not a pushover—especially when it comes to making people’s dreams come true.”
“We can see you’re nervous,” Jason said. “You look a little like you might be sick.” He motioned toward Lana. “Aim to my right.”
“Yes, please,” Ellie agreed. “Right before we get out of the limo.” She grabbed her phone and seemed to be setting her camera. “I want personal pictures.”
“Oh, aren’t you funny, Ellie,” Lana said, wrapping her arm around Jason and peering up at him. “I guess I better stay nice and close to you so you’re in the target range, too.” She cut a look at Darla. “And we’ll see about that pushover comment. We’ll see today, in fact. This should be fun.”
Oh, great. Darla, aka the new fish in the pond, had just managed to taunt the resident shark. If things were different, if this job weren’t so important to her, she wouldn’t care. She’d focus on casting, which she knew she was good at. But things were different, and this was going to be an interesting day. One of many, it was beginning to seem.
“We’re here!” Ellie announced. “Lights, camera, action. The new season has arrived.”
The car stopped in front of the hotel entrance and Darla could indeed see flashing camera lights. Adrenaline rush
ed through her. She inhaled and closed her eyes, forcing herself into performance mode, into the place she didn’t let the rest of the world bleed into. Where she was a talk show host and no fears could touch her.
But everything happened so fast. The car stopped and then she was outside, the crowds shouting and calling to her. Darla waved and smiled, blinking against the camera flashes.
Almost the very instant that she and the other judges cleared the front door, they were herded into a room with a big Stepping Up panel set up as a backdrop for photos. Blake was there, speaking into the camera, doing an intro about the judges arriving.
Darla’s eyes met his for an unintentional instant that both made her heart flutter and made it clear that he was asking several silent questions. Did she want him to stop her, to interview her? She gave a discreet shake of her head. She didn’t want to create more speculation about the two of them or risk Lana getting jealous over the camera time.
Blake gave an equally discreet nod and stepped toward Ellie. “Ellie, can you give me a quick sixty-second remark for the camera?”
Darla took a spot in front of the panel that Lana and Jason were already standing in front of, thinking that only a day ago, she would never have thought Blake would be so considerate of her wishes.
“Ellie!” the photographer, a young, spiky-haired, punk-rocker-looking dude, shouted. “I need you in front of my camera, not his.” Clearly, the photographer either knew Ellie, or he was just plain cranky in general. Ellie ignored him and kept talking to Blake, which escalated the photographer’s demand. “Ellie! I only have a few minutes and I’m good, honey, but even I need everyone in front of the camera.”
Ellie grimaced and turned toward him. “Take a chill pill, Frankie, will ya? We’re filming and we’ll be here all day.”
Follow My Lead Page 7