Royalty, American Style_King of Baseball

by Livia Grant

  "Colton, I'd like you to meet Sophia Steward. We found her through one of the contests we setup around the country. She was chosen by our producers out of the four-thousand women who sent in videos to compete to be here. She's from Iowa City ."

  "Hi, Sophia." He leaned in for a quick hug, noting how she felt as stiff as a board .

  Her simple, "Hello," was lovely. Unlike the first two women, Sophia felt more like the girl next door. Not exactly the kind of woman he spent a lot of time with these days, but honestly, she seemed to be a lower risk of blowing up in his face when things went bad .

  By the time the fourth woman stood at the top of the staircase, Colton had started to put together exactly how much trouble he was in. These women were all drop-dead gorgeous and seemed to be lovely on the inside as well. How the hell was he supposed to portray his playboy routine with all of them living under the same roof? He said a small prayer that the remaining women turned him off, in hopes of narrowing the field early on .

  It wasn't meant to be. Contestant number four was Aviana Perry, a high-powered tax-attorney from Manhattan. Her tailored business suit was cut short to showcase her long legs. She could have been a model, like Cleo, had she chosen that path, but when she opened her mouth, he knew she was as intelligent as she was beautiful. He looked to his left at his friend Van who was hanging out behind the cameraman. His agent gloated, knowing Colton's weakness for intelligent women .

  Sure the remaining women could not possibly surpass the first four, Colton was at first relieved to see contestant number five walking down the stairs. While there was nothing wrong with the young woman, there was equally nothing spectacular that stood out either. In fact, he glanced at Ryan, confused as the woman closed the final feet between them before launching herself into his arms, hugging him so hard that she actually lifted her feet off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist and squeezing as if they were about to do the down and dirty then and there had they not been fully dressed and surrounded by a dozen people .

  Colt chuckled as Ryan explained. "This is Lucy Scott. She won her spot on the show by competing against hundreds of other Colton King enthusiasts. She describes herself as your number one fan, heading up the Austin, Texas, chapter of your fan club." Ryan tried to help Colt peel her out of his arms, but it got harder when the men realized she was sobbing against his shoulder .

  "I can't believe I finally get to meet you," she cried. "I swore I wasn't going to make a fool of myself, but here I am crying like an idiot ."

  Colt would have pegged her as a Texan just from her accent. Like a gentleman, he pulled the handkerchief from his inside pocket, handing it to her to dab at her eyes and blow her nose .

  "It's nice to meet you, Lucy ."

  "Oh. My. God. You said my name !"

  Ryan looked alarmed. "Lucy, we talked about this. You're going to be spending six weeks here with Colton. You don't need to act like he's never going to speak to you ."

  "I know. I know. I'll pull it together. It's just so exciting. You can ask me anything. Go ahead. I have all of your stats memorized." When Colt didn't speak, she prodded him again. "Go ahead! Ask !"

  Well, okay then. "So, Lucy, what is the total number of double-base hits I've racked up in my major league career ?"

  "That's too easy! You ended the season at 699, in fifth place for the all-time record. You only have twenty-five to go to tie Ty Cobbs for fourth, and ninety-four to take over the number one slot. If you hit thirty-one each of the next three seasons, you'll take the record, which should be easy for you because you …"

  Ryan had to hold his hand up to get her to stop talking. The moderator tried to laugh it off, but Colt could see exasperation in his expression. "As you can see, you have a super-fan. There were few others in the competition who were as big of baseball fans as Lucy here ."

  "I don't doubt it ."

  He already knew he'd need to keep his distance from this one. She was too impressionable, and a little attention would go a long way .

  "And finally, last, but certainly not least, we have Maya Romanovski joining us all the way from Moscow. Maya is a dancer ."

  Something in the way Ryan said the word dancer made Colt glance his way. The men shared a knowing glare just before he looked up to see a woman who could easily be mistaken for a hooker in the outfit she was wearing. Skirt cut up to her ass, top cut down to her tits and the part in the middle poured into the skin-tight spandex strips that exposed her pierced bellybutton. She swayed her way down the steps slowly in her platform heels, rocking her hips to unheard music while undressing Colton with her eyes. Her makeup was heavy, and his twisted mind couldn't help but picturing her falling to her knees on the marble floor to suck him off as her salutation. The deep red of her lipstick would make a nice souvenir on his groin because sure as shit, he knew she could deep-throat any cock pointed her way .

  Speaking of cocks, his was currently doing a nice rendition of a salute, which was only made worse when Maya leaned into a full-body hug, daring to grab his package and squeeze it through his pressed trousers .

  "I see you are glad to see me too, sweetheart," she said slyly .

  Colt cleared his throat, trying to extricate himself from her wandering hands, knowing that the cameramen were setup at the perfect angle to capture every sordid detail of her greeting .

  "Nice to meet you, Maya," he added lamely, trying to focus on calming his erection down before she pulled away .

  That effort was made impossible when she leaned up to whisper in his ear loud enough for everyone within ten feet to hear her. "My room is the farthest down the hall. I requested it so we wouldn't keep the others awake all night when you visit me ."

  Colton couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. The whole scene was so ridiculous that it was funny. The smooth narrator, Ryan, was left speechless as Colton played it up, stealing his first kiss for the camera from the sexual animal in front of him. While she wasn't really his type, the one thing Maya had going for her was he knew he wouldn't be hurting her feelings when he ditched her at the end of the game. The other five women, he couldn't say the same .

  As she sashayed away to join the others, Colton whispered, "I'm guessing you guys stocked up on condoms ?"

  Ryan slapped him on the back, finally snapping out of his trance. "Oh, never fear. We've stocked up on lots of things ."

  Colton didn't know exactly what that meant, but he suspected he might have some fun finding out .

  Chapter Two

  H arper Gardener rushed around the kitchen island, rescuing the homemade Italian bread from the oven just in time to avoid it being burned. Not for the first time that day, she berated herself for not driving up from the city the day before so she could familiarize herself with the restaurant-style kitchen she'd call home for the next six weeks .

  She knew how lucky she was to land this job. If she hadn't, she'd probably be squatting on her best friend Vivian's couch on the lower-east side, or in her run-down Honda on her way home to Illinois with her tail between her legs. This job may be a temporary stay of execution, but she knew there was a very good possibility she'd be packing-in her dream of making it in NYC and heading home before Christmas .

  "Okay, introductions are finished. The participants have mingled over drinks for thirty minutes. Mr. Wallace gave the green light for me to start serving the first course as soon as they're seated," Cecelia, long time caretaker of the property, confirmed .

  "Sounds good. The salads are in the walk-in fridge on a tray to the right. I made a couple homemade dressings, too ."

  "Wow, such talent. You've only been here a few hours." The kind, older woman's smile was genuine, a rare commodity in Harper's life recently. "It's so nice to have the kitchen back in use again after all these years. The Ungers weren
't well the last few years they resided here, and well, the main house has been empty now going on a year ."

  "I can't believe this dream kitchen has been going to waste. And don't tell Mr. Wallace, but I cheated a bit. I made one of my signature dishes from my old job. I could make this ravioli dish in my sleep. I'll have to work my way up to harder entrees after I get the lay of the kitchen," Harper added .

  But it wasn't the kitchen she was worried about. It was the long list of special requests from the temperamental participants in the show that concerned her. Having dietary restrictions was one thing. The lists of things some of these women refused to eat read like a culinary final exam: what meal can you make from water and this stalk of celery ?

  Two identified as vegan, which in and of itself was difficult for a chef responsible for feeding a large group of people. Another refused to eat carbs or dairy. A fourth hated vegetables and seafood, while a fifth would only eat vegetables and seafood. Add in a gluten-free and sugar-free request, and she felt like the producers should call her part of the show Mission Impossible .

  This should be fun .

  The one thing she knew for sure was that they would all be hating tonight's dinner. She'd kept it simple, with soup, salad, pasta, and dessert, and based on the information sheets, each of the women would be equally disappointed by their first meal in their temporary home. She could only hope they'd be too distracted by the misogynistic asshole they were all trying to woo to notice .

  Harper had taken a few minutes of her break to do a Google search on Colton King and had immediately wished she hadn't. His clear baseball prowess aside, the guy was nothing short of a man-whore. Rarely photographed with the same woman more than once, he'd managed to live thirty-six years as a confirmed playboy. King of baseball, indeed. More like king of one-night stands. She could only hope the jerk stayed out of her kitchen, because she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep her opinion of his treatment of women to herself .

  Cecelia had returned, a frown on her face .

  "Is everything okay?" Harper asked .

  "Those are some sour women. We're only on day one, and already they're complaining about this or that. I don't envy your job trying to make all of them happy, Ms. Gardener ."

  "Please, call me Harper. I didn't have enough time to deal with their special requests tonight. I'll have to study the demands and go shopping tomorrow with a new plan ."

  Cecelia smiled. "You sure made Mr. King happy, though, when I told him we were having mushroom ravioli for the main course. He told me it was his favorite entree at this restaurant he likes to go to in the Italian Village. I told him that was a coincidence. Didn't you say you used to work at an Italian restaurant in the city? Wouldn't that be something if he was talking about your ravioli ?"

  "Yeah, something," she said, non-impressed. Every Italian chef worth their salt could make this dish .

  Members of the filming crew took turns flitting through the kitchen, introducing themselves and grabbing a bite to eat when they could. Everyone was very nice, other than the complaints she could hear through the swinging door separating the kitchen from the formal dining room. Comments like, "It's a good thing I brought a bag of my own food" and "I'm not going to gain ten pounds while I'm here," got Harper's blood simmering. She was relieved when the meal was over, and the participants all left to go get to know each other in some other area of the big house .

  "Excellent meal, Ms. Gardener ."

  Harper turned to find the producer of the show in the doorway. "Thanks, but I don't think your dinner companions agreed ."

  "You made Mr. King happy, and you gave him and the future audience a good chance to see how the contestants handle adversity ."

  She chuckled. "Adversity? I asked them to eat carbs ."

  "Precisely. Keep up the good work. I'm glad I took Georgio's recommendation to hire you ."

  Her heart stopped. "What do you mean his recommendation? I applied for the position on my own ."

  The producer looked like he'd said too much, but she pressed him until he added, "How do you think you got the notification of the opportunity ?"

  "That sonofabitch." She threw the hand towel down she'd been drying dishes with and started pacing, putting together the puzzle pieces. She'd known the asshole was cheating on her. She'd confronted him, and he'd lied. She'd threatened to leave, for Vivian's couch, but then this amazing opportunity had fallen into her lap at the last second. She'd thought it was divine fate, when in reality, it had been her no-good ex-boyfriend ensuring she'd move out, so he could carry on his affair with the maître d' of his restaurant .

  "I'm sorry. I thought you knew ."

  "Oh, I think I did. It helps to know the score ."

  "Well, regardless, keep up the good work. I'll see you at seven for breakfast ."

  * * *

  I t was late by the time Harper turned off the last light in the kitchen and left through the back door to make the short walk to the pool house. She'd been relieved to find they didn't have enough bedrooms in the main house for her. She preferred to stay hidden away from the residents when she wasn't working .

  She tried not to think about the contract she'd signed agreeing to be on camera 24/7. It wasn't like she'd ever have a camera crew assigned to her for the reality show, but just being in the big house, she was constantly aware of the cameras hidden away where it was too easy to forget they were there. She longed to be in her own room where she could finally relax, if only for a little bit .

  She'd arrived late and hadn't been able to unpack. She had two bags that she'd need from her trunk. Feeling tired, she almost let it wait until the next day, but knew she'd need her toiletry bag with her toothbrush and contact lens solution .

  As she began walking across the yard, the whinny of horses could be heard from the well-lit stable, drawing Harper in. She'd grown up on a farm. As a kid, horses had played an important role in her life, but choosing to go to culinary school in downtown Chicago had taken her away from home, and she'd only been back for short visits since .

  Cecelia's husband, Charlie, was brushing down a lathered horse when she approached the first stall .

  "He's beautiful," she observed .

  "Why, you scared me, Ms. Gardener. I'm afraid the Mrs. and I are not used to having folks around. It's gonna take some getting used to having you here ."

  "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I just saw the light on, and well… I love horses and wanted to check it out ."

  "Do you ride?" he inquired .

  "I used to. It's been a while ."

  "It's a bit like riding a bike. I'm sure you'll remember ."

  "Oh, I wouldn't impose ."

  "No imposition at all. In fact, over half of the horses we stable are for city folks too busy to get out here to ride very often. They pay us to not only feed and care for their animals, but to make sure they get regular exercise. If you'd like to ride, just say the word, and I'll hook you up with Dolly down at the end of the paddock. She's a good mare for you to get reacquainted with riding again ."

  His offer was most unexpected. "That would be amazing. I never dreamed I'd get to ride out here. I'll be a bit busy for a few days, but maybe over the weekend ."

  She patted the soft nose of the gelding he was brushing, drawing a whinny from the handsome sorrel .

  "Sounds good. Confirm with Cecilia, and I'll have a saddle and bridle waiting for you ."

  Harper reluctantly said goodnight, knowing she had a lot of work ahead of her before she could call it a night. Cecelia had told her they'd moved her car to the ten-car climate-controlled garage. Her Honda would be spoiled when it was time to return to city street parking in December .

  It was eerily quiet as she approached the garage. Gone w
ere the city cars and buses, honking cab drivers and crazy people talking to themselves. Out here, those sounds were replaced with frogs croaking and an occasional hoot owl in the distance .

  She stopped to admire the scenery, taking in a deep breath of clean air. The moon was half full, shining just enough light on the land to highlight the property's pond and a small lake in the distance .

  "Nice night for a walk." The masculine voice in the shadows scared the bejesus out of her .

  "Who's there? Mr. Wallace, is that you?" Harper swung in the direction of the voice, only able to make out the tall frame of a man in the darkness, leaning against the trunk of just one of the many mature oak trees on the grounds. Her heart leapt in her throat realizing how secluded the property was, not sure if Mr. Finnegan would hear her from the stables if she cried for help .

  Her pulse spiked up a notch when Colton King stepped out from the shadows, his hands raised above his head as if to surrender, a broad grin visible in the moonlight. The glow of the cigar in his left hand gave her the answer as to what he'd been doing sneaking around outside .

  "Oh for crap's sake, you scared me. Don't sneak up on a girl like that," she huffed, both relieved and aggravated at his presence. She'd never been afraid of the dark before, and it pissed her off that she was reassured to have company as she was about to go into the dark outbuilding. She made a mental note to grab the flashlight from her glove box to carry in her coat pocket for the future .

  Harper pushed past the baseball player, refusing to return the smile still playing at his lips in the dim lighting. She opened the side door to the garage and felt around the wall, looking for the light switch .