Catching Mr. Right--A Clean Romance
Page 11
“Because that is my designated time with my daughter, and not yet, but I will tell her.”
“Okay, Austin, stop. Why do you keep referring to your designated time in that robot-like attorney voice? And why are you suddenly so interested in spending all this time with her?”
“I am always interested in spending time with my daughter.”
“Let’s not go over this again.”
“Look, Victoria, I know I may have been a bit lax about adhering to our father-daughter time in the past, but you know that’s because Amber isn’t comfortable having Scarlett by herself. She’s always been such an active child. And with the hours I’ve worked these last few years, it’s been a challenge to balance that. But that’s all changing now.”
Like it wasn’t a challenge for her to balance everything? Precisely why she’d chosen to put her dreams on hold while Scarlett was little. His logic was infuriating.
“Austin, I am literally standing in the men’s room with a mop and a bucket of bleach. I do not need another lecture from you about how hard you work.”
“Of course, you’re right. I know what an albatross that place is for you.”
“I have never once said that,” she countered sharply. Just because she’d wanted to go to college, longed to explore her options, did not mean she didn’t appreciate her family’s legacy, or enjoy it, or that she wouldn’t have come back here anyway. All she’d ever wanted was to know that she could achieve something on her own.
“Not in so many words, but you sure as heck wanted something better for yourself.”
“Different,” she amended. “I wanted something different.” And I’m about to get it, she almost blurted. A fresh wave of longing hit her. How desperately she wanted it to be true. And yes, a bit of that was because she wanted to rub it in his face that she could make something of herself all by herself.
“Regardless,” Austin said, his tone dropping low and deep in the way it did when he was trying to convey sincerity. “I want you to know that I’m sorry you didn’t get your different. You deserve more, Victoria.”
Inhaling deeply, she managed to hold her tongue. A miracle, she thought, considering he was responsible for the absence of her different. And he knew it. “Austin, can you get to the point? I need to get back to work, and you said Wednesday was part of why you called.”
“Oh. Right, yes, um... Consider this your notice, okay?”
“Notice for what?”
“From now on, I will pick up Scarlett at 4 p.m. every other Friday and 4 p.m. every other Wednesday as per the parenting plan. No exceptions. No excuses. Okay?”
“Um, yeah, okay, I guess.” As if there was anything she could do about it.
“Great. You asked for a heads-up, so this is me giving it to you.”
CHAPTER TEN
FLORIDA. FINALLY.
Seth had never experienced time stretching by as slowly as it had since leaving Louisiana. Anticipating and preparing for the show while counting down the days until he and Victoria were in the same time zone again. Soon, they would be in the same room. Soon after that, she would be in his arms.
Seth stepped inside the designated conference room, one of the Florida Maritown Hotel & Conference Center’s many options. The place was enormous, and it had taken him longer to travel from the hotel tower to the adjoining conference center than he’d anticipated, which was good to know going forward. Being a few minutes late for this welcome reception didn’t seem as critical as tardiness to other events might be.
His gaze skimmed over the banner hanging on the wall, “Greetings, Anglers! The Pro Plus Fishing & Outdoor Expo Welcomes You!” He barely registered the tuxedoed waitstaff smoothly conveying large trays of drinks and appetizers. The clever fish-themed decor was way too subtle for his notice.
There would be time to soak it all in later. He hadn’t even taken a moment to look at the final schedule yet. Right now, he just wanted to find Vic. They’d hoped to have a few hours alone together before the show started, but that was not to be. While her plane had gotten in on time this morning, Seth’s was delayed. He’d arrived with barely enough time to register, shower away the travel grime and dress for the evening’s semiformal reception.
Marissa had added a note specific to this event, advising them to wear what they would to a wedding. But obviously, she hadn’t attended many of those in Rankins where khakis or freshly laundered blue jeans were generally suitable. Hazel had advised him, insisting he wear a suit. Via text, Iris concurred. Outnumbered, he’d agreed, and now, scanning the fancy-dressed crowd for Victoria, he was extremely grateful for his bossy sisters.
This preshow party, sponsored by Romeo Reels, consisted of fishing expo personnel, professional anglers, Romeo Reels executives, pro staff, other assorted employees, including all the members of the selection committee, and a smattering of other industry mavens. Many more people than he’d been expecting, he realized, as he continued to search the crowd.
The evening’s itinerary included social time with drinks and then dinner, along with the requisite welcome speeches. This would also mark the first time all three contestants were together, so Marissa warned them to be prepared for tons of photos.
“Seth James?” An unfamiliar young woman approached him.
“Yes,” he said, smiling a greeting.
“Hi, my name is Molly.”
“Hi, Molly, nice to meet you.”
“Can I have your autograph?” she asked, producing a glossy booklet, which he recognized as the show’s program of events. Flipping it open, she landed on a page that consisted entirely of photos of him. Like the posters of the Romeo Reels finalists hanging in the lobby, these photos had been taken in both Louisiana and Alaska.
His first autograph. Romeo’s promotion department had been hard at work. Marissa and Gerard would be pleased. “I’d be honored,” he said, and she passed him the program and a felt-tipped pen.
“Molly with a y?” he asked.
“That’s right,” she said and giggled.
He scrawled his name along the bottom of the photo collage. Before he passed it back to her, he couldn’t help but notice the opposite page featured Victoria. He quickly added photogenic to her list of strengths.
Molly asked him about Alaska, then salmon fishing, and they were still chatting when another woman joined them. “Nancie with an ie” asked for an autograph, too. After he consented, Molly said, “We’re pulling for you.” Nancie agreed and included an enthusiastic “Good luck!” The women departed, whispering and giggling as they went.
“Seth!”
The voice belonged to Henry, who approached him along with Marissa and Gerard. Happy to see familiar faces, Seth warmly greeted them all. Marissa flagged down a waitperson and ordered a round of drinks. Last week’s venture of hosting Henry in Alaska had been smooth sailing. Fishing with Henry had been like fishing with a cousin or one of his friends. In fact, Henry already felt like a friend. Not surprisingly, he was also a serious contender for the job.
Equal in skill to both himself and Victoria, Henry had traveled more than Seth, but wasn’t quite a match for Victoria’s natural charm, but then again who was? Although Seth thought Henry possessed a broader knowledge base and a sophisticated polish that he and Victoria both lacked. Seth predicted he would kill it in interviews.
This final round was shaping up to be so much different than he’d anticipated. Funny how he’d initially imagined the experience as some sort of cutthroat, contentious battle for fishing dominance.
Drinks arrived, and they spent a few minutes catching up. Seth tried not to be too obvious in his continuing search for Victoria.
“You guys have an unscheduled photo op in a few minutes,” Gerard informed them, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “We weren’t sure if Seth would get here in time, so this is great because it’s for the feature on The Angle. Has anyone see
n Victoria?”
“The Angle,” Seth repeated. “As in my favorite fly fishing show?”
“Yep,” Gerard answered. “You guys have a group interview with them in the morning, but the photographer wanted to get some photos first.”
Marissa pointed. “Victoria is over by the champagne fountain next to Wyatt. He’s sort of been monopolizing her time.”
Gerard chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Wyatt Romeo?” Henry asked, frowning a little.
Seth’s curiosity must have been evident because Marissa explained, “Wyatt is Miles Romeo’s son. Miles Romeo, as you probably know, is the owner of the company.”
That much Seth did know.
“Isn’t he married?” Henry commented, his focus now off in the distance.
“Divorced. And I think he might have a little crush on our Victoria,” Marissa said.
* * *
ALTHOUGH VICTORIA HAD been in Florida for only half a day, it hadn’t taken her long to learn that even though the show was about much, much more than who would be crowned the new Romeo Reels spokesperson, their competition was still a big deal. So much bigger than she’d anticipated. Overwhelmingly big.
How could she have been so utterly unprepared for this part of the experience? She’d studied and practiced and planned for all the individual components but had overlooked the...reality of the show itself. Which was rapidly developing into a sensory overload of epic proportions.
Holding tight to her smile, she looked around the vast space crowded with people and wondered if Seth had arrived yet. Knowing they were in this together somehow made her feel better. Now if he would just get here...
Clearly, the company had done an excellent job with the “media blitz” Marissa had mentioned. Her first clue had been the giant, life-sized cutouts of herself, Seth and Henry in the lobby. Photos and posters of the three of them were hanging all over the place. The show’s official program contained full-page photo collages and bios. She’d already lost count of how many people had approached her; journalists and bloggers asking questions, members of the public wishing her luck—even a few people wanting her autograph.
Professional anglers, many of whom she admired, were coming up and congratulating her. Tito Benz, one of the most successful tournament bass anglers in the sport’s history, told her he was looking forward to her workshop. As if she, Victoria Thibodeaux from Perche, Louisiana, could teach Tito Benz anything useful about bass fishing! Her lungs began to seize up whenever she thought about it.
Not to mention that the grand hall, where the bulk of the show was being held, would each day pack in more attendees than the population of her entire town. Earlier, she’d gotten lost and been late to a coffee date with Marissa and some bigwig executive from a sportswear manufacturing company. Turned out, the woman wanted to discuss the possibility of Victoria promoting their clothing line. When it was over, Marissa suggested she might need an agent. She’d been smiling when she said it, but Victoria had the distinct impression that she wasn’t joking.
But what currently had her in knots was a tearful voicemail from Scarlett. Austin planned to take her to some sort of fancy fundraising dinner on Friday for which she’d need a formal dress, which she did not have, and did she have to go? Because the real problem was that the event was the same night as “the play.” Vic was instantly annoyed for two reasons. Why would Austin think that taking his eleven-year-old to a formal fundraising event was a good idea? The second was that with her own mind preoccupied with Florida, and to be honest, Seth, she’d forgotten about the play to which Scarlett had been invited months ago.
When she’d called Scarlett back, she hadn’t picked up. She’d then called her mom, who’d told her that Scarlett was with Quinn and his family. She’d tried Austin three times now without success and couldn’t help but wonder if he was ignoring her calls as some sort of passive-aggressive payback.
“What do you think, Victoria?” Wyatt Romeo asked, nudging his chin toward the glass she held in her hand. Wyatt Romeo, the son of Miles Romeo, the owner of the company, wanted to know her opinion about the wine. And didn’t this illustrate her predicament so perfectly? How could she ever have anticipated that she’d end up discussing wine at a fishing show? Why couldn’t he have asked her about monofilament line or roll casting or turtle blades? Or even the weather for that matter? Anything about which she could intelligently speak.
For half a second, she considered trying to wing it. But even if she could pull it off, she hadn’t gotten here by pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Putting her best foot forward yes, being a fake, no.
Mustering her best apologetic smile, she tipped the glass and gave it a little swirl. “Sorry, but I don’t know anything about wine. So, I’ll just say what I do like is how it’s not too sweet.”
“Thank the stars above!” Archie, a friend of Wyatt’s, exclaimed, tipping his face toward the ceiling. Wyatt had introduced the man, a former professional basketball player who she’d never heard of, only moments ago. “That means we don’t have to talk about wine, right?” Grinning at her, he explained. “Wyatt and my wife can go on about wine for hours.” He lifted his glass, which, Victoria noted enviably, contained a beer.
“I don’t drink much myself,” Victoria confessed. “I’m a single mom, and between my daughter and my family’s business, I’m used to being on call 24/7. But when I do, I’ll admit I prefer a nice cold beer.”
That’s when Archie stepped aside, giving her a long view across the room. Right at Seth. Finally.
* * *
SETH SPOTTED THE champagne fountain just as the tall guy who’d been blocking the view moved. to reveal Victoria. He wondered how he’d missed her earlier because she appeared to him like the only light in the room. So stunningly beautiful that his heart nearly stopped. He made a noise, he realized, and hoped no one else heard the short, sharp intake of his breath.
She was wearing a shimmering dark gray dress. It was sleeveless and hit her at the knees. Snug but not tight. Simple. Elegant. She looked like a movie star instead of a professional angler, or maybe a movie star playing the role of a professional angler. How could Romeo Reels not want to hire her? He’d buy anything she was selling, and he suspected most everyone else in the room would, too.
He wondered if anyone else saw it, the way her eyes locked onto his. It was quick but long enough for him to revel in their connection. But there was a flicker of something else. Something...not happy. And then it was gone. Her face erupted with a radiant smile as her gaze swept over their little group. One hand went up to signal that she’d be right over. Turning her head, she spoke to the man at her side, Wyatt, he presumed. The man nodded, and then they both headed toward them.
Seth tried not to watch her as she crossed the room, but seriously, not an easy task. And it seemed to take forever. He joked with Henry about the monster salmon he’d nearly lost in Alaska and asked Marissa about her dogs. In his periphery, he saw Vic laugh at something Wyatt said, but they were close enough now that Seth could tell that it wasn’t her real laugh, the one that made her shoulders shake and her eyes scrunch at the corners. Too bad for you, Wyatt.
When they stopped, the first thing Seth noticed was that she wasn’t wearing the necklace. The one that just yesterday she’d told him she’d worn every single day since receiving it. Too bad for you, Seth, he told himself, trying not to read too much into its absence. Probably, it didn’t match her dress, or maybe it wasn’t stylish enough?
He was grateful when Henry stepped forward first, allaying his own temptation to sweep her into his arms. They’d agreed it would be best to keep their relationship private for now. Especially when they hadn’t even had a chance to define it themselves. They didn’t want anything clouding the decision-making process of the selection committee.
“Hey, you,” Henry said, releasing her from a friendly hug. “You look lovely.”
Marissa stood on her other side, and Vic started there, doling out hugs around the circle.
Wyatt introduced himself, first to Henry and then to Seth, and engaged them in conversation about the show. Personable in a slick, practiced manner, he immediately rubbed Seth the wrong way. He didn’t care for the guy’s smirk, either, mainly because it kept snapping back to Victoria as if his eyeballs were magnetized to her dress.
“Well, hello there, Alaska,” Vic teased when she made it around to him. “Glad you finally decided to grace us all with your presence.” The hug she gave him was irritating in almost every way: platonic, short, and topped off with an added exaggerated clap to his shoulder and no accompanying eye contact. Exactly the opposite of what he wanted. And perfect for the circumstances, he silently admitted, watching her joke around and charm everyone. Including Wyatt, who now stood way too close to her. But he already knew she was a better actor than he was, didn’t he?
Why was he all ruffled and unsettled? Because he wanted to take her hand, lead her from this crowded hotel ballroom, and be alone with her. And possibly knock Wyatt out cold on the way out the door because why was he rubbing her shoulder like that?
Smiling instead, he quipped, “I wanted to give you and Henry both a chance to make a good impression before I stole the spotlight.”
“Photo time,” Gerard said, pointing toward the door.
Seth hung back, waiting for the others to proceed so he could bring up the rear. Wyatt, apparently with the same inclination, turned his smirk on Seth and commented, “I’m afraid it’s going to be difficult for anyone else to get a slice of the spotlight with Victoria in the room, isn’t it?”