If You Can't Take the Heat

by Melissa Brown

  “I would.”

  He licked his lips and pursed them gently. “Let’s just say there’s been some interest in the television industry.”

  “Well, you must know by now that you messed with the wrong casting director.”

  “Right.” He rolled his eyes.

  “I mean it, Charlie. As of this moment, you’re a pariah at this network. No production team will touch you. I’ll see to that.”

  “There are other networks.”

  Whitney sighed, knowing he was right. She had a handful of contacts at other networks, but if they were interested in Charlie Hutchins, it was unlikely she’d sway them from pursuing him. She had to make peace with the fact that Charlie might fit the bill for another show, based on his villainous antics. That was his future, not hers. She’d said her piece and it was time to move on.

  “Well”—she walked to the door and paused with her hand on the knob—“good luck with that. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Same to you.”

  Whitney smiled. “I have. Good-bye, Charlie.”

  Feeling like a weight had been lifted from her tired shoulders, Whitney found Chris in the conference room. After closing the door behind her, she placed one hand on her hip.

  “God, he’s a tool.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “Exactly as I should have expected. He’s an entitled ass with a massive chip on his shoulder.” Whitney huffed, plopping herself into a seat with a scowl on her face.

  Chris patted her on the shoulder. “Good riddance, right? Coffee?” He poured two cups of steaming java and handed one to Whitney.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking a quick sip. “So enough about him. He’s no longer worth our time.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Everything’s set for the final round, right?”

  “Yes. The judges know Wes isn’t interested, so don’t worry. Saul is already mapping out ideas for Joe’s show on daytime.”

  “Oh, good. He’ll be great, don’t you think?”

  “For sure. I think he has a successful career in front of him,” Chris said. “Hey, you familiar with The Pioneer Woman on Food Network?”

  “Of course, why?”

  “Saul and I have been talking. You know, she films most of those episodes at her home.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “She films in Oklahoma, Whitney.” Chris shrugged. “Not everyone has to uproot their lives to make it big. And we both know L.A. isn’t for everyone.”

  “True.” She knew her time with Wes in Los Angeles was limited. They’d yet to discuss their future plans, but that didn’t worry her. Deep in her gut, she knew they’d figure it out. Neither of them was afraid to compromise. They’d find a way. When you found the right person, sentiments changed, priorities shifted, and possibilities expanded.

  Whitney couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She and Wes had thought of his opportunities in absolutes. She hadn’t considered an alternative such as this. “Are you saying Saul wants to film a show in Montana?”

  “I’m saying it’s been discussed.”

  “O-kaaay.” Whitney narrowed her eyes. “How many discussions?”

  A knowing smile crept onto Chris’s face. “Several.”

  “I see.” Whitney beamed. “He has star quality, doesn’t he?”

  “Yep. Saul wants to capitalize on that, but we want to see the audience reaction first, of course. If there’s a demand, Wes will be approached. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  “Thanks. Should I say something to him?”

  “I’ll leave that up to you. You know him much better than I do.” He chuckled, looking uncomfortable. “Obviously.”

  Bursting with excitement, Whitney filled Wes in over dinner at a local pizza place.

  “I have to admit,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “that would be incredible.”

  “I know. Where do you think they’d film? At Wesson’s? At your place?”

  “I don’t know. I guess the possibilities are cool to consider.”

  “Hey.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “I just realized, I haven’t seen your place yet. You could be a total slob, for all I know. Or one of those hoarders. Hell, you could have piles of garbage taller than me!”

  Wes leaned in close, taking Whitney’s hand in his own. “I think we both know that’s not the case. But you’re right. We need to fix that, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I mean before this relationship goes any further, I should probably see your bedroom.” She raised her eyebrows seductively, stroking his hand with the tips of her fingers. “You could be one of those creepy guys with a waterbed and black satin sheets.”

  “You know me so well.” He chuckled, squeezing her hand. “In all seriousness, though, I’d like you to come with me to Montana, when you’re ready. If you think that’s something you’d want.” He shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable.

  “Of course it is.” Whitney placed her other hand over his. “I want nothing more than to be with you, Wesson, and I know L.A. isn’t for you. I get it.”

  “That’s true. I stick out like a sore thumb here. But that doesn’t mean I won’t bend for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I’d do just about anything for you, Ms. Bartolina.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  “So let’s figure it out. Take things as they come, make decisions together.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Whitney raised one wicked eyebrow. “Unless, of course, that satin-sheet-covered waterbed actually exists. That’s a deal breaker, Cowboy.”

  “As it should be.” He laughed and took a sip of his beer. “When the competition’s over, let’s take a long weekend. You can see my place, spend more time with my parents.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “But before that happens, maybe we could spend a weekend in Oakland. I want to see where you grew up. And I’d like to meet your mother.”

  “Mama?” she asked, surprised.

  “I’ve been dying to meet her.” He reached across the table, wiping a tiny drop of sauce from the corner of her mouth. “I want to meet the woman who raised you. She deserves some recognition.”

  “Hell, she deserves a medal for raising such a pain in the ass,” Whitney said playfully, but her eyes began to water just thinking of her mama and all that she had done for her. And knowing that her advice was spot-on. Whitney figured out the right path for her, and she was confident Mama would agree.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, shaking his head. “And I’d like to meet your sister, too. Although she sounds like trouble.”

  “Oh, she is. But the good kind. They’ll love you, I know it.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love them too.”

  Wes stood and kissed her on the forehead before taking his seat and finishing his slice of pizza. Together, they sat and enjoyed their meal, knowing this was only the beginning of their adventures taken together, not apart.

  FIVE YEARS LATER . . .

  Do I look like a princess, Uncle Wes?” Lina asked, her blond hair pulled into a high bun, adorned with a silver crown. Her little voice was effervescent with energy and unbridled enthusiasm after stepping out of the boutique. Her pink dress shimmered as she curtsied before him. Whitney held back tears, but Elle, complete with pregnancy hormones, couldn’t contain them.

  “You certainly do, darlin’,” Wes said, bowing before her and kissing the top of her hand. “The most beautiful princess I’ve ever seen.”

  “My baby,” Elle whispered, squeezing Whitney’s hand. “She’s growing up too fast.”

  “Yes, she is. How do we get her to slow down?” Luke wrapped an arm around Elle and rubbed her protruding belly.

  Whitney laughed, thinking the same thing as she studied Wyatt, who was enjoying a food coma in his stroller after breakfast with the characters. They were celebrating his third birthday at Disneyland and her little munchkin was in awe of
the sights and sounds. Wes was worried he might cry when approached by the larger-than-life characters, but instead Wyatt pulled at their noses and smiled for dozens of pictures, his hazel eyes bright with excitement and his floppy chocolate-brown tresses hanging over his tiny forehead. He’d passed out just as they arrived for Lina’s appointment at the Bibbity Bobbity Boutique for her princess transformation, and Whitney was grateful. Her rambunctious three-year-old would have been a holy terror in the boutique. If the staff had only known what they’d avoided, they would have thanked her for the dozing, sweet boy, quiet in his stroller.

  She couldn’t blame Wyatt for being full of energy and curiosity. After all, he was a little boy who spent most of his time in the mountains of Montana, surrounded by horses, cattle, and farm dogs. He was used to playing rough and exploring nature with his daddy. Their time in California was limited, as Whitney was expected to fly in for auditions only once per quarter.

  The Great American Cook-Off had been a major hit with audiences across the country and reached number one in its time slot for three straight weeks. Whitney happily accepted her bonus check, depositing it straight into her mother’s account. Rosa had scolded her daughter, but in time, utilized the extra funds to pay off her debts and travel across the country, enjoying her golden years. Being able to help her mother was fulfilling and as each season of the reality cooking show was planned, Whitney negotiated a similar bonus. So far, she was three for three and Rosa was close to retirement.

  Aside from auditions, all of Whitney’s other duties were, for the time being, completed via telecommuting. However, that was all about to change. A second location of Wesson’s Steaks & Chops was finally under way in Los Angeles after months of negotiations and planning with investors. The head financier, Saul Greenberg, was eager to share Wes’s culinary talents with the world after his summer cooking show, Grilling with Wesson, became a huge network hit. For three seasons, the show, filmed completely at the Rancourt Ranch, was a successful side project for Wes, and Whitney was more than happy to assist in production.

  Now that a second restaurant location would be opening in just a matter of months, the family prepared to split their time between the two states, allowing Wyatt to have more exposure to his mother’s world. With any luck, Whitney thought, he’d have the attitude of a cowboy with the eye of a casting director. Regardless, she loved her husband and son more than she could have ever imagined. Family suited her. It suited them all.

  “I wanna go on Pirates!” Lina jumped up and down, pointing toward Adventureland. Wyatt stirred, sitting up straight and pulling his pinky from his mouth.

  “Pirate! Pirate!” He kicked his little feet.

  Wes lifted him from the stroller. “Well, look who’s up!”

  Wyatt wrapped his arms around his daddy’s neck, showering him with wet kisses. “Pirate, Daddy! Pirate!”

  “Okay, little man. We’ll go see the pirates.” Wes smiled, turning to Whit. “You ready, Hollywood?”

  Whitney watched as Wes hoisted their little boy onto his shoulders and turned to Lina. “Show us the way, your highness.”

  Wyatt squealed from Wes’s shoulders and Whitney reached for the stroller.

  “Here,” Luke said, grabbing the stroller before she could make contact with the handles. “Let me get that.”

  “Auntie Whit,” Lina said. “Can I hold your hand?”

  “You betcha, Princess.” Whitney squeezed Lina’s tiny, delicate hand gently. They walked down Main Street and Whitney inhaled the intoxicating smell of cotton candy and milk chocolate, awaiting Lina and Wyatt’s squeals of delight as they drifted through the land of swashbuckling pirates.

  “I’m glad we waited to come here,” Wes said. “It’s so much cooler through their eyes.”

  “I agree,” Whitney said, locking eyes with her husband. “It’s magical. All of it.”

  Wes leaned over, expecting a kiss, and Whitney happily obliged, brushing her lips to his. They’d shared thousands of kisses in their five years together, but it never got old.

  “Mama, I need kisses!” Wyatt demanded with a pout.

  “Well, okay then. Can I hear manners, please?”

  “Pwease,” he said with puppy dog eyes, leaning down, tightening his grip on Wes’s forehead.

  “How can I turn down that face?” Whitney asked, raising to her tiptoes. Wyatt clapped after Whitney smooched him loudly.

  A satisfied smile crossed Whitney’s lips as she savored her family, their adventures big and small, and the best five years life had to offer. She could only imagine what the next five would bring. And that was okay. Because, no matter what, she was ready. Always ready.

  Bring it on.

  Acknowledgments

  I loved writing Whitney’s story, and with the help of several strong, loving women, I was able to (hopefully) do her story justice.

  Thank you to my editor at Montlake Romance, Maria Gomez, for believing in Whitney’s story from the moment I pitched the idea. I feel very lucky to consider my editor one of my biggest supporters. It’s a fantastic feeling.

  Thank you to my agent, Jess Watterson, for all of your support, encouragement, and assistance. I love working with you!

  A huge thank you to Lindsay Guzzardo, my developmental editor. You push me to expand on ideas, dig deeper into the minds of my characters, and to create the best possible story for readers. I can’t thank you enough for fitting me in after just having a baby! I’m beyond honored and hope to work with you again soon.

  Thank you to my brainstorming trifecta: Deb Bresloff, Beth Ehemann, and Janna Mashburn. Beth, you were there from the very beginning when I uttered the words “I think I want to write a book for Whitney.” Those early conversations were exciting and constructive and set the tone for the entire story. Deb/Mom, you were there throughout the entire process—cheering on Whitney and Wes as if you knew them personally, recognizing their strengths, their flaws, and their path toward one another. Thank you for your constant support and bouncing ideas almost daily during this process! And Janna, thank you so much for that amazing brainstorm session when you visited in June. I’ll always remember your first visit to Chicago as being not only a fantastic weekend, but a pivotal moment for Whitney’s story when “not yet” was devised. I’m forever grateful for our conversation and all of your fabulous input. I love you all so much!

  My beta readers are the absolute best—Pamela Carrion, Megan Kapusta, Allison East, Sally Bouley, Jennifer Merkley, and Sharon Cooper. You ladies are the best! Thank you for loving Whit and for helping me shape her story. I’m so lucky to have you in my corner.

  Pamela Carrion, thank you for all of your help with publicity, blog tours, and getting the word out. Thank you also for running my reader group! You are invaluable and such a fabulous human being.

  Thank you to my husband, Chris Brown, for your continued support and encouragement. I’m so lucky to have you. Thank you for believing in me.

  And finally, as always, thank you to my writing family. We’ve been together for almost four years now and I consider that a gift. Even though life gets in the way and things ebb and flow, we’re always there for one another, cheering each other on and offering support. I am grateful for you all.

  Read on for an excerpt of Elle’s story

  Available now on Amazon.com

  Don’t look at me like that.” Gina glared at Nolan, her eyes searing into his. Her hair fell in loose waves, tumbling past her tan shoulders.

  “Like what?” Nolan crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, smirking at her, blocking the doorway she was determined to cross.

  “Like you have me all figured out,” she snapped. “You don’t and you never will.”

  Right on cue, Gina pushed against the taut muscles of Nolan’s arm, attempting to leave the room, the tension, the heat. But instead, she walked right into his embrace. Nolan angled himself properly and wrapped one arm around her tiny waist. She gasped, avoiding his prying stare.

  “I think I do, bab
y. And it scares the hell out of you.” His hand pushed into the curve of her lower back, bringing her closer.

  Gina’s eyes softened, and her hands wrapped around Nolan’s neck. Nolan’s lips curled into a satisfied smile before making contact with Gina. He turned her slightly to the left, pressing her into the door frame as he kissed her. Hard.

  “Aaaaand . . . cut!” Rob, the director, hollered from his chair. “Nice work, people. Let’s do it one more time.” He stood and walked to the actors, rubbing the blond scruff on his chin. “This time, Nolan, be a little more forceful when you turn her. We want the audience to feel the urgency.”

  “Got it,” Nolan responded, saluting Rob and returning to his spot beneath the open door frame, standing on the tape stuck to the floor. Members of the makeup team appeared at his side to wipe the lipstick from his skin and to freshen Gina’s appearance.

  Everything had to be just right.

  Elle Riley wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Eleanor “Elle” Riley was the creator, head writer, and show runner of Follow the Sun, the most popular television drama to hit the airwaves in over a decade.

  She was also a perfectionist—a complete and total perfectionist. Her director knew it, her producers and crew knew it, and the actors were reminded with each take that Elle would not accept anything but the very best performances for her show. Dozens of names were listed in the closing credits, but the show was based on her novels. It was her baby, her pride and joy—it meant everything to her.

  In its first season, Follow the Sun had earned three Emmy nominations, including one for Outstanding Drama Series. When they were cast as the leads, Nolan Rivera and Gina Romano were relative unknowns in Hollywood. But after just a few months on the air, they were plastered across gossip magazines, followed by paparazzi, and raised to celebrity status. Gina embraced her fame—posing for fitness magazines, conducting interviews between takes, and dining at the trendiest restaurants.

  Nolan had chosen to be more private, retreating from the attention—he led a quiet life in the Hollywood Hills, only appearing publicly when necessary. Both actors lit up the screen, captivating audiences. Combined with Elle’s writing, Follow the Sun had become the show to beat. And Elle was determined to maintain its spot at the top.