Stiffening, she clenched the dime store jewelry in her hand. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”
“Watch your tone with me. I can still have you fired.”
Oh, that bastard. Even if Derek hadn’t made her the sweet deal with all the perks, she probably would have done the show. Because she cared...about Danny, about the other crew members who could lose their jobs. “Too late, I’d already quit to play your bachelorette, remember? Besides, without me, you wouldn’t have a show. Or a job.”
“And if the show is cancelled, neither will you,” he countered, but that’s where he was wrong.
“Really? It’s easier for a Production Assistant with Pick Me on her resume to regroup and find another position, rather than a director who’d lost a show because of bad ratings.”
Nodding, he folded his arms across his chest. “You’re right about that, but trust me when I tell you that won’t happen. What you’re holding in your hand are cameras.”
She looked down at the ugly broaches and necklace, and frowned. She’d seen advertisements for spy cams in magazines supplied by airlines, but they were usually in the form of a pen. “What am I supposed to do with these?” she asked, while a trickle of dread cramped her stomach. She had a feeling she already knew, but hoped she was wrong.
With a roll of his eyes, Jonas shook his head. “Wear them.”
No kidding. “Why? The cameras are always around during the dates, and I’ve never seen, or heard of any other past bachelorettes wearing one of these.”
Sending her a smile, that bordered on demented, he approached her and invaded her space. “Because it was never necessary before.”
She leaned back in the chair, trying to put distance between him and his coffee breath. “So why now?”
“I saw the shitty footage from your date yesterday. If this show is going to stay on top, I need you to wear these things.” He nodded to the jewelry biting into her fisted palms. “And give me something to work with. I need ratings, Val. I know the deal Derek gave you, and while I was dead set against it, I had no choice. You’re right, it’s easier for you to find a job than me, but how many producers will be willing to hire you if they see this?”
He shoved away, then hit a switch on one of the editing panels. “Watch screen number two.”
Valentina focused on the screen. Watched it go from black, to gray, to snow before it segued into a still shot...of a near empty parking lot. The image changed to another snowy blur, then refocused, this time, on a man in a cowboy hat and a woman standing against a car. That trickling dread escalated as Jonas hit a few buttons and focused in on the couple.
“Look familiar?” he asked, and rested his rear on the edge of the panel.
Eyes wide, ears buzzing, she ignored Jonas’ taunt and stared at the screen. While the black and white image was grainy, and most people wouldn’t have recognized the embracing couple as her and Colt, she knew. Even now, she could practically feel his hands sliding over her hips, caressing her ass. His firm lips coaxing, teasing, tasting.
Oh God, here comes the bad part. She’d memorized that night, and knew damn well what was going to happen next. “Turn it off,” she demanded, heat burning her cheeks.
“Why? We’re just getting to the good stuff.” Jonas stared at the screen. “Yeah, this is my favorite part, and I have to say, you’d surprised me. I always thought you were a cold bitch, but with the way you wrapped your legs around that hillbilly cowboy I—”
Spurred by anger and outrage, Valentina dove for the control panel, smashing random buttons with her fists until the screen finally went blank. “You bastard. I...” She turned to the panel, searching for the eject button, found it, pounded the hell out it until the tape was in her hands. “Has anyone else seen this?” she asked, shaking the tape in his face.
“Just me and the security guard who’d been working that night.”
Her pounding heart began to slow to an almost normal rate.
“But I made a copy.”
Cold and clammy fear gripped her from the inside. If Jonas leaked this footage of her and Colt, she could be ruined. Professionally and personally.
While she’d formally resigned as Production Assistant in order to be Pick Me’s bachelorette, and was no longer an employee of the production company, her actions, as well as Derek’s and even Jonas’, had bordered on unorthodox. At the time, she’d figured even if Pick Me was cancelled, so long as she met her contractual obligations and finished the show, she’d still have a job as Derek’s Assistant Producer. If Derek lost his golden touch, and his other shows started to tank, she would have to find another job. Jonas was right, what production company would hire her if they saw this tape?
Then there was her family. Her father, an old school Italian, looked at her “TV stuff” as a passing fancy, that she’d eventually do the right thing. Settle down, find a husband, and push out a bunch of babies. Her brothers had always been supportive, a little over protective, but sympathetic during the many arguments she’d had with her parents over her career choice. But if they saw this, they’d probably send out an APB on her ass, then drag her back to Chicago. Her mom? Oh boy, she’d probably call in a priest for an exorcism. While she loved her mother, she hadn’t quite entered the twenty first century, and pretended the women’s movement had never happened.
Squaring her shoulders and ignoring her wobbly legs, she narrowed her eyes at Jonas. “And what do you plan to do with this so-called other tape?”
“Use it, unless...” He shoved off the panel and approached her. “Unless you wear the cameras I’ve given you.”
“I’ll wear them. Just give me the other tape.”
He held up his hands. “Not so fast. I need it as leverage.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I told you I’d wear your stupid spy cams.”
“Yeah, but I want to make sure you get more of that stuff on them,” he said and pointed the blank screen.
“That meaning what happened in the parking lot?” Was the man insane? There was no way in hell she’d allow herself to be filmed fooling around with Colt. What she shared with him was private, personal...special. “No way.”
“Well, if you don’t,” he said with a shrug, “I’ll use the tape on the show.”
Her anger toward Jonas intensified. While she wasn’t sure if Colt was truly a sports agent, it didn’t matter. Jonas’ blackmailing tactics—and she figured that’s where he was heading between the tape and the spy cams—would affect Colt as well. He had a big family, lived in a small community, and if he was in fact a sports agent, his career might take some heat for this as well.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” Not really, but she’d damn well be sure to tell Derek about his idiot director.
“And if you tell Derek or anyone else about this conversation, I’ll splash the copied tape all over the internet.”
Shit. “I knew you were an asshole, but I had no idea how much until now,” she said, slipping the tape into her purse.
“Well, I’m about to become a bigger asshole. You obviously like the way that redneck gets your rocks off, but I also want to see some interaction between you and the other bachelors. Hot interaction,” he finished with a wink.
That did it. She swung her purse and knocked Jonas upside the head. “Kiss my ass. I’m not going to play your frickin’ whore. Do you understand me?”
Jonas ran his hand over his bald head, then with a snarl, gripped her shoulders. “Like I said, you either wear the cameras and give me something I can use, or I’ll splash you and Colt all over the internet. Are we clear?”
“Fuck off,” she said, shrugging his hands off her, then moved passed him.
“Fucking is what I want to see. Don’t disappoint me.”
*
Colt let the truck idle at the stop sign on the darkened corner of Valentina’s street, and stared at the bright red tail lights of a white van parked in front of her building. Seconds passed, then the van drove off in the opposite direction. As it turned the ne
xt corner, a street light allowed him a brief glimpse of the Pick Me logo etched on the side. He released a deep breath. Lucky timing. The last thing he needed was for any of Pick Me’s people to see him. If they did, they might start asking questions, find out that he and Valentina had known each other prior to the show, then boot them both. While he wouldn’t mind being booted from the show, he knew how important it was to Valentina. He also knew once the show ended, she’d leave Dallas. He’d rather suffer through this ridiculous dating game for the next four weeks, and share her with the other bachelors, than see her leave earlier than planned.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled into the parking garage across from her apartment. He didn’t want to share, and knowing Valentina had a date with Trent tonight made him jealous. While she’d told him that the only man who would be touching her was him, he still didn’t like the idea of another man spending time with her. What a waste. If she hadn’t been so hell bent on doing the show, they could have gone out tonight. Spent some quality time together and maybe actually found a bed this time.
He parked the truck on the second level of the dimly lit parking garage, where he had a perfect view of her apartment. Last night, after Ruger had left, Colt had decided he needed to be in Dallas. He needed to be near Valentina if he was going to find a way to coax her into sticking around after the show ended. Now that he was here, the plan sounded plain dumb. She’d just wrapped up a date with another guy. She had no idea he planned to surprise her tonight. Would she be surprised? Happy? Pissed? Maybe he should have picked up some flowers or something. Hell, maybe he should have at least come up with a legitimate excuse to see her. A good excuse might soften her attitude—if she gave him one.
You could turn around and head home. Wait for your scheduled date with her.
That he could, but he didn’t want to. He had another two days before he was supposed to see her again. Besides, he liked Valentina, and not just for the sex. She had a cool inner strength he admired, a sense of humor he could relate to, and just being near her calmed him. When he’d first met her in Denver, he’d considered himself fortunate. He’d had a gorgeous woman to ease the loneliness he’d been feeling, and give him a hot night to remember. Only it wasn’t just another hot night to tuck away in his memory bank and recall when the loneliness set in again.
Since that night, he’d never been the same. Hell, he couldn’t look at a woman without comparing her to Valentina. He didn’t know why. Just knew whatever had happened in Denver had changed him. He only wished she wouldn’t have left him in the Mile High city, high and dry with nothing but those memories.
Yesterday, after they’d had sex in the woods, he’d wanted to ask her why she’d snuck away in the middle of the night six months ago. The blissful satisfaction on her face had kept his mouth shut. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Then again, maybe coming here tonight and putting up with the show were both lame attempts at bolstering his bruised ego. No woman had ever walked away from him. All the others had clung to him, searching, seeking more, something, anything. Now he was the one searching, seeking more, and while Valentina had made it clear she wanted him, it was only for the sex. Why? Why was she denying them the chance at something good, something real?
He leaned against his truck. Stared hard at her apartment’s darkened windows, trying to come up with one valid excuse for being here tonight, and contemplating whether or not he should leave. Then she flipped on a light. From where he stood he watched her wave a hand in the air as she spoke into her cell phone, then she ripped something off her dress, tossed it against a wall and slammed the phone on an end table. She eyed the phone, and slumped onto the sofa, resting her face in her hands.
With his heart and mind racing, he decided he didn’t need any excuses. Valentina was angry and hurting, and he was determined to find out why.
*
Releasing a deep sigh, Valentina didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw her cell phone against the wall like she’d done with Jonas’ broach.
Jonas was such a prick, and after the call she’d received from him tonight, she worried he’d only become worse. When she’d told him how her evening with Trent had gone, he’d threatened her again. Not good enough, he’d told her. But what did he expect? For her to jump Trent’s bones right there in the street with the camera crew hovering around them?
God she wished she had someone to talk to. She couldn’t call her family. All she’d hear from her mom and dad were a bunch of “I told you so’s,” and her brothers would handle the situation with the Bonasera family motto: If you can’t laugh or cry about it, then get pissed. Charming.
She shoved off the sofa, then rummaged through the kitchen cupboards for a wine glass. If only she could tell Danny. He’d know what to do. But if she told him, and the knowledge of the spy cams and her and Colt’s soft-core sex tape were released, his job could be in jeopardy. While she had resigned from her position, he was still Pick Me’s Production Manger. He needed his job. He had a fiancé waiting for him in Arizona, and bills for their upcoming wedding that needed to be paid. No, she wouldn’t tell Danny about any of this.
She poured wine into the glass while trying to think of someone she could confide in, but came up empty. “Pathetic,” she said. The only other person she trusted was her friend Chloe. They’d gone from grade school through high school together, and while Chloe went the route Valentina’s parents wished she had—found herself a husband and already had two baby boys—they’d managed to keep in touch.
Taking a sip of the wine, Valentina calculated when the last time she’d spoken to Chloe, and with regret, realized it had been over ten months. Jeez, with the way Chloe and her husband were producing, they could have had another child she didn’t even know about. No, she couldn’t call Chloe. Besides, what would she say? Hey, long time no talk, how are the kids and by the way, I’m the bachelorette on a reality show and the director is blackmailing me with a sex tape. Yeah, right. That would go over well.
If only she could be the ruthless vixen Jonas wanted her to be. Wear those stupid spy cams, flirt, kiss, and give him something for his ratings. Unfortunately it wasn’t as simple as that. She actually liked Trent, and she realized tonight that he wasn’t on the show to gain any sort of fame, but to find his soul mate. She still thought finding ones soul mate would be easier if it were done through an online dating service, but who was she to judge. She might have found hers on a one-night-stand.
“Don’t even go there,” she muttered before taking another sip of wine. Colt was not her soul mate. Sure, he was fun and sexy, but fun and sexy only lasted for so long. At least that’s what she’d keep telling herself. If she didn’t, she’d end up right back where she was six months ago—pining over a man she could never have. They came from two different worlds, she was a city girl. He was a country boy. That kind of crap might work in a cheesy romance novel, but not in the real world. On that note, she raised her glass in a mock toast, then brought it to her lips.
A rap at the door made her jump and spill wine down her chin. Dabbing her face with a kitchen towel, she looked at the clock. Who would be dropping by at this hour? Had to be Danny. Then she froze. Could be Jonas. She didn’t trust that sick bastard, and if it was him, no way would she let him inside her apartment.
Her heart rate accelerated as she approached the door with caution, then jumped another level when she looked through the peep hole. Colt.
Without hesitation, she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.” He sauntered into the living room, his gaze moving over the furnishings. “I didn’t have a chance to say this yesterday, you know with all the cameras on us, but this place is...nice,” he finished, and fingered a hideous black sculpture that resembled a woman’s vagina.
After she’d moved in, she’d learned from Derek that the couple he’d leased the apartment from were lesbians. Not that she cared, but when one had a hot guy in her apartment... “None of this is mine,” she blurted, awar
e of how all the paintings, sculptures and knick knacks resembled or symbolized some form of the female anatomy. “I rented it fully furnished...” She bit the inside of her cheek. “From a couple of women.”
He turned, and burst out laughing. “Well that explains a lot,” he said, then closed her drapes before he moved toward a painting on the wall. “The décor definitely screams... female.”
“That’s putting it mildly. You should see the bedroom.” Her cheeks burned when she caught his heated gaze. “I meant...I didn’t mean...oh just forget it.” With brisk steps, she moved toward the kitchen. Colt snagged her arm and spun her to face him.
“I know what you meant,” he said, and ran a finger along her jaw, then tucked it under her chin. “Why so skittish tonight? Bad day?”
That’s putting it mildly. “I’m not, it’s just...you really shouldn’t be here. The—”
“Show,” he finished. “I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I told you, I was in the neighborhood.”
“Try again,” she said, and cocked a brow. While she knew having Colt in her apartment was wrong, especially since she’d just finished a date with another man no more than ten minutes ago, she was glad he’d come tonight. After Jonas’ call, she could use a friend.
Tell him. The thought came from nowhere, but she quickly squashed it. She couldn’t tell Colt anything about the arrangement she’d m ade with Derek, or about Jonas’ blackmailing. If she did, he might lose complete respect for her, and she wanted his respect. Wanted him to continue to want her for as long it lasted. Four weeks.
“Do you practice that look in the mirror?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, the look, the one school teachers seem to be born with.” He smoothed her creased forehead. “The one that says you’re busted so you might as well fess up.”
Guilt piled up on more guilt. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was giving you the look,” she countered trying hard not to let her conscience rear its ugly head. Tell him. “So, you were in the neighborhood...”
Pick Me (Reality TV Romance) Page 7