“Did they show you any of the videos? It would be interesting to critique them.” Peter kicked open her door and dragged the cases in.
“Obviously not. Who knows what will survive the cutting room?” Amy stopped at the threshold of her bedroom. “What happened here? Don’t tell me you cleaned.”
“Not me. Your mother did.” Peter swept his hand to show her the pristine room, devoid of personality. Motivational posters with mottos on success, leadership, and teamwork were pasted on the walls, and the bed was made with a severe pinstriped bedspread with Spartan tucked corners.
“What happened to all my etchings, pinups and the folk art I collected?” Amy yanked the dresser drawer. “All my silk and lace underwear are gone.”
She opened the closet. Rows of sensible business suits replaced the party dresses and gowns she owned. Sterile pumps in wooden shoe stretchers hung in her shoe organizer.
“What the heck did she do with my clothes? I hope she didn’t give them away.” Amy’s voice shrieked to ear piercing levels.
“Ow, ow.” Peter covered his ears. “I dug them out of the bin. They’re in my room.”
“Why did you let her in?”
“I didn’t. I walked in as your brother was lugging out a garbage bag. She must have convinced the supervisor to open the door for her.”
What the hell was wrong with her parents? Her dad was all bark and no bite, but her mom? Sneak attack territory. Passive aggressive.
Her breath fuming, Amy tore past Peter to his room. “Where’s my stuff? Did you save everything?”
“Of course I did, but it’s going to cost you for storage.”
“Grrr … Don’t you do anything because you like me?” Amy dug through his mess and found her garbage bags. “Did you tell the supervisor to change the locks?”
Peter shrugged. “Your mother has enough money to get past him. I suggest you put everything in storage. Take what you need for the race trips and—”
“How much you want for storage?” Amy rummaged in her purse for her checkbook. “I’ll add it to your tab.”
“A hundred a month would do. I come cheaply.”
“Ugh, don’t let any woman hear you say that.” She poked him with a pen. “How’s your love life?”
“How’s yours?” His eyes narrowed into a squint. “Do I detect a chink in your armor?”
“None at all. Purely business. Everything’s business. When you see the videos, you’ll see what a great actress I am.”
“Wonderful. I’m glad,” Peter said. He picked up a tablet and swiped to the entertainment news. “Then this picture of Teo romping with the German fräuleins at a beer garden shouldn’t bother you at all.”
* * *
Teo’s exploits didn’t bother Amy as much as a dearth of acting roles, or so she’d convinced herself. Two weeks of readings, auditions, and tryouts brought nothing. What kind of agent was Peter anyway?
Amy reclined her seat on Teo’s private jet. She pulled a black eye mask over her face, stuffed foam earplugs in her ears, and tried to sleep despite the turbulence. She wasn’t in the mood to party with the camera crew and entertainment bloggers on this last leg of the flight to Teo’s race in Germany.
Not that she cared if he painted the town red. After all, that was the entire premise of the show. An ordinary girl tames an incorrigible player. Whatever spark she might have felt that last night in Amsterdam was simply a hormonal imbalance, or indigestion from the Dutch diet rich in beer, cheese, and chocolate—all of which she’d paid for by exercising triple time.
She’d already replaced her Facebook relationship status with “It’s Complicated,” and removed Ronaldo’s name. As long as Silver Studios kept the checks rolling and gave her a recommendation at the end, she was satisfied.
Her sleep was too soon disturbed by the customs officials and immigration agents who boarded as soon as the plane landed. Amy suffered their intrusions in silence, then allowed the limo driver to escort her to the car. Mia, of course, would be waiting.
“Hey, chicki!” Mia clasped her in arms bedecked with stacks of colorful bracelets as she boarded the limo. “Ready for the preliminary interviews? This time, we won’t be having a gala dinner before the time trials. Instead, you and Teo will dine privately and retire early. His trainer is worried about distractions, especially since Ronaldo crashed last time.”
“Fine by me.” Amy faked a yawn to portray disinterest. “I suppose all the gossip of Teo and the blondes are to amp up the drama for the show?”
“Not really.” Mia played with the multitude of rings on her fingers. “This show is taped in advance. We’ll only know at the end of taping whether he should clean up his act and pretend to be your fiancé.”
“Oh, got it. So, even the proposal will be scripted?”
“It’s still a reality show. He doesn’t have to propose. If Ronaldo’s not convinced you’ve captured Teo’s heart, he’ll stage a big blowup.”
“As long as I get my scheduled episodes, it’s fine by me. What was that switcheroo back in Amsterdam about? Was Ronaldo testing me?”
Mia swiveled in the limo and reached for the refrigerator. “I’m not supposed to give you any more hints. Have some wine?”
“Mineral water,” Amy replied. She needed to keep her wits about her. At home, she’d gone over the contract in detail. They could cut her from the show at any moment and she’d forfeit the rest of the payouts. However if she scored the proposal, she’d earn an additional fifty thousand dollars and get to keep the engagement ring. She’d also read everything she could about Teo. For starters, his father just about owned every industry in Greece. He’d had twenty wives, roughly one every two years, although Teo’s mother was not listed on Wikipedia. As for half-brothers and sisters? Teo wasn’t joking. Fourteen brothers and ten sisters officially.
“We’re here.” Mia chirped as the limo pulled up to an imposing stone castle. Bright banners fluttered under the cloudy gray skies fat with clouds threatening rain.
“You think it’ll be another wet race?” Amy shuddered at the thought of the miserable conditions.
She wasn’t looking forward to meeting Teo. He felt like even more of a stranger than before, since he hadn’t texted, called, or contacted her the entire two weeks. Not that he was obligated to. After all, she only existed to act in the reality show.
The interior of the castle was like a medieval museum, but Amy wasn’t in the mood to gawk. She barely noticed the flourishing tapestries, the arches of ancient weapons, and knight’s armor as she followed Mia through the passageway. The bellhops delivered her luggage to her suite, and all she could think about was a hot shower and what mood Teo would be in.
“How do you like your room?” Mia examined the gilded candlestick on an ornate, antique dresser.
A king-sized canopy bed reared above her, complete with richly woven curtains. Plush leather chairs were arranged on a rich burgundy and gold rug in front of a stone fireplace. The dim light came from candlesticks in sconces set at intervals on the cut stone walls. Fortunately, electric desk lamps were provided on the end tables on either side of the bed, and there was a swing arm reading lamp overlooking one of the wingback chairs.
“It’s awesome. Are we filming in here?” Amy stepped toward the bathroom door. Thankfully it had all the modern conveniences: a shower enclosure with double heads and a sitting ledge, two sinks and a toilet besides a bidet.
“There may be some intimate moments,” Mia said as she pulled the drapes back from the wardrobe. “Last session was easy. You got acquainted with our bachelor, learned about motorcycle races, and had a fabulous daytime date around town. This time, you’re supposed to take it to the next level.”
Amy gulped as Mia displayed a series of revealing dresses. One had a laddered midriff so low she’d better shave her pubic hair before wearing it. Mia strutted to the dresser and pulled out black fishnet stockings, blindfolds, and ties.
“Is he really into this stuff?” A chill gripped Amy’s
scalp while the lower parts of her body electrified. “There’s nothing in the contract about this.”
“Don’t worry. This is the tease. Of course you’re not going to actually have sex with him. What did you think?” Mia tossed the fishnet stockings at her. “You’re supposed to get him obsessed with the idea of having sex with you so he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend.”
“I thought I was already supposed to pretend to be his girlfriend in public.”
“You are, but he’s still playing around entertaining the paparazzi. If you succeed at getting him enthralled with the idea of having sex with you, and then you deny him …”
“Sure, sure, torture the bastard. Tell him no nookie unless he cleans up his image.”
“Exactly!” Mia’s finger sliced through the air as if she’d scored the knockout point in a political debate. “Make him kowtow to your pussy. Deny him something no woman on earth has ever done.”
“It’ll be easy.” Amy’s blood surged at the challenge. She might have used sex to get things before, but she could also turn it off and use not getting sex to get more.
Mia rubbed her hands. “Ronaldo’s throwing in a five thousand dollar bonus if you succeed, and if you fail, you’re out of the show.”
“How do we know Teo will tell the truth?” Amy put her hands on her hips. “After all, he’s a player. He’ll lie and say he did the deed.”
Mia’s grin widened like the Cheshire Cat’s, her white teeth gleaming. “We can tell. Us Teo watchers know him too well.”
“Teo watcher? You?”
“Stalkers, fan girls. We know everything.” Her smile was too wide to be sincere.
Amy glanced at the rich furnishings and tapestries. “You have hidden cameras? Listening devices?”
“Of course not! How can you be authentic if we did?” Mia huffed as if she were affronted. “Anyway, why don’t you take a shower and get dressed for dinner? Teo will be by in two hours.”
Chapter 10
Teo sat in the back of his limo, videoconferencing with his grandmother. Oba-chan scowled at him from the Skype window. She wasn’t happy. At. All.
“You had a perfectly nice girl at the last race. Why blow it with all the bimbos?”
“I’m not blowing anything. Amy doesn’t mind.”
“She doesn’t?” Oba-chan raised her eyebrows. “What kind of girl doesn’t mind?”
An actress who was paid for. Besides, he had to suppress any lingering feelings Amy might have had for him. That kiss in Amsterdam wasn’t easy to forget. Heck he’d even walked off the canal boat with visions of white gowns and flowers and waking up next to Amy in a honeymoon suite. Freaking scary. Running around with the party girls had been necessary therapy to keep his mind from Amy. Not that they helped. Much.
“Well?” Oba-chan demanded. “Answer me.”
“You worry too much,” Teo said. “She’ll come to your birthday party. I promise you.”
“I’m going to quiz her. I’ll know if she’s a fake date.” Oba-chan narrowed her eyes. Her nostrils flared the way they always did whenever she detected Teo slinging bullshit.
“Not a problem. I’ll win her over. Just you watch.” He hoped his voice was more confident than he felt.
“I better not see any more bimbo eruptions on social media. Even your father thinks you’re getting out of hand.”
“Ha, as if he’s any example. He’s on what, wife number twenty-one?”
“Something like that.” Oba-chan’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “But that’s not what I want from you. Of all my grandchildren, you’re the one who’s had it the roughest. The rest of them have their mothers. You only have me. What will happen to you after I depart?”
“You’re going to be around for a good long time, Oba-chan.” A lump rose in Teo’s throat. “You’re not sick or anything?”
“No, not at all,” she answered a little too quickly. The forced smile on her face had Teo’s pulse racing. She was hiding something. No wonder her eightieth birthday party was so important. Chills raced up and down Teo’s spine. What if this were her last one?
It would be impolite to challenge her. He pulled a smile onto his face. “I’ll do my best to make you happy.”
“That’s what I want to hear. All I wish for you is to have someone who loves you. Is that asking too much?”
“No, Oba-chan, not at all.”
Except it would cost him his freedom. Example being motorcycle racing. A woman would hold him back, demand too much, be worried about him. She wouldn’t understand why he held his life so casually. Live today, die tomorrow. No fear. No regrets.
“Good, I look forward to meeting Amy.” Oba-chan’s voice cut into his thoughts. “She reminds me of a younger me. I don’t suppose she fears much at all. Any woman who isn’t affected by your playing the field has my admiration. She must be highly confident.”
Either that, or she plain didn’t care.
Teo wiped his forehead. “I’m going to see her soon. Her plane landed a few hours ago. Don’t worry. I’ll charm her.”
“Wonderful. Don’t fail me.” Oba-chan grimaced, her face stern. “Sayonara.”
* * *
A hot shower was the right prescription to wash away all of Amy’s travel worries. So far, she’d made thirty-thousand dollars while enjoying the top flight luxury of being a billionaire’s girlfriend without having to put out favors.
She shaved her legs and bikini line carefully. That red laddered dress would tolerate no unsightly hair. The film crews would be back to interview her before the date, but this time, dressed and made up.
After shampooing and drying her hair, she shimmied into the not-there dress. Seriously, she looked like a porn star. What would her parents say if and when they viewed this segment of the show?
“Hey, girl, almost ready for your makeup?” Mia banged on the door. “The crew’s here.”
Amy wiped her hands over the thin strips of fabric. The red dress hid nothing. Every outline of her body, from the swell of her breasts to the puckering of her nipples was revealed. She turned and looked at her behind. Gasp. She didn’t have big butt cheeks, but the lines were clearly seen.
“Can you tell them to leave? I’m not ready.” Amy yelled through the door.
“They’re already setting up.”
“I can’t wear this dress. It’s too slutty.”
Mia slipped the door open and slid in. “Woo! You look fabulous. You are definitely going to do him in this dress.”
“Wait, I thought the aim was to resist.”
“Uh, uh, uh, not looking like that.” Mia’s bright red lips twisted into a smirk. “You’re like the red cape to a bull. Whoop! Let’s get that makeup on you, girl.”
Amy held still under Mia’s brush. Unbelievable. They were vamping her up. Seriously. The false eyelashes were so spikey she could catch flies with them, and the black eyeliner wings extended halfway to her temples.
Blood red lipstick dripped from her plump lips, and dark blush angled her cheekbones to new heights. The show was definitely going for major mixed messages. Poor Teo.
Mia’s appraising look grew more and more delighted as she laid the finishing touches. “Show time.”
She opened the door and pushed Amy into the bedroom. The cameramen had already set up their lighting umbrellas and movable tripods and turned on all the electric lights, changing the quaint castle bedroom into a miniature studio.
Ronaldo was giving last minute directions, but when Amy stepped out, his eyes popped, and he shot her a wolf whistle.
Even though his obvious appreciation pleased her, it didn’t cause her to flush or feel weak-kneed. Good thing, because she was going to need all her fortitude to resist Teo, the guy she’d blow up the chemistry lab with.
Amy graced Ronaldo with a slight nod and flashed a smile as if she were on a modeling catwalk. She sashayed to the chair in front of the lit fireplace.
“You know the routine,” Mia said. “We’ll ask the questions and you respond a
s naturally as you can. First one, Ronaldo?”
He propped a hand on his hip and looked her up and down, then blew her a kiss. “Sexy babe, there’s no way our bachelor can resist a hot chick like you. Okay, first question. After your last date with Teo and that scorching kiss, what are your expectations tonight?”
Amy placed her hands in her lap and portrayed looking thoughtful. Not an easy thing to do with the amount of makeup caked on her face.
“Teo’s such a gentleman. He made me feel valued. I enjoyed our outing in Amsterdam. It was really unique, and I’m looking forward to getting to know him better.”
“Oh, I can see that.” Ronaldo’s gaze lingered on the lower parts of her body. “Your dress leaves little to the imagination.”
“Actually I was hoping for a more intellectual connection.” Amy lowered her eyes to the patterned rug. “I’m sure Teo is a very intelligent man, and I’m excited to discover his dreams and goals.”
“Not dressed like that you won’t.” Ronaldo leered. “Are you looking forward to your intimate date? Just the two of you, candlelight, soft music, alone in this room?”
“Definitely. Tonight will be very special. I can’t wait for the date to start.”
As if on cue, someone opened the door with a thump. Teo crossed the threshold and the camera turned to him.
“What’s everyone doing in my room?” He shielded his eyes from the reflected light. He was dressed in regular street clothes, jeans, a tight polo shirt, and carrying an overnight bag.
Amy’s heart did a tap dance as Teo threw his bag on the bed. So, this was the big misunderstanding. Every episode of a reality show had to have a glitch.
“You must have the wrong room.” Amy flattened her hand on her chest. “This is where I’m staying.”
Teo marched toward her. “Room three. That’s what my keycard reads.”
“Mine too.” She held his gaze. “Looks like the hotel double booked us.”
His eyebrows rose as he raked her with his gaze. “You’re welcome to stay, and I’m not taking the couch.”
Roaring Hot! (Contemporary Romance): A Billionaire Biker Romance Page 7