by Syndi Powell
All so he could find a wife and Lizzie could keep her job.
Rick turned away from the window and walked back into the kitchen. Freshly baked cakes lined the stainless-steel counters, cooling and waiting for frosting.
The phone rang, but Rick let Ernesto answer it by the cash register. Probably another take-out order. Or one more reservation for the viewing party on Valentine’s Day. While Rick met the future Mrs. Allyn, and twenty-three other beautiful women, at a huge catered party at the Veterans of Foreign Wars hall, the town would gather at the diner to watch it unfold on live television.
Ernesto opened the swinging door and handed him the phone. He stared at it, then put it up to his ear. “Rick Allyn.”
“Do you always answer your phone so formally?”
He grinned at the familiar voice. “Lizzie.”
“You’re never going to call me Elizabeth, are you?” She sighed over the line, making his smile wider. “Do you have plans tonight?”
“If you’re here and available for dinner, my schedule is free.”
She chuckled. “I’ll take you up on dinner. The plane just landed, and my stomach is demanding real food. We need to go over some things before my crew arrives tomorrow.”
His skin warmed, and he held the phone tighter. “You’re really here? I won’t have to settle for talking on the phone and picturing you hanging on my every word on the other side of the country?”
“We can even sit side by side if you want.” She muttered to someone on her end of the phone, then sighed. “They didn’t save my convertible for me. Can you believe it?”
“It’s winter, Lizzie. Get the four-wheeldrive SUV with heated seats. Trust me.” He glanced through the cutout window into the diner, where people tried to catch a peek of him. “You won’t believe the changes in town since you were here last.”
They hung up with plans to meet at the diner once she had checked in at the hotel where she and some of the crew would stay.
* * *
TO KILL TIME, Rick buzzed through his apartment, making sure it looked presentable. He’d been raised to keep a tidy room, but it had never been easy for him. He liked his things out and around him. He knew Lizzie wouldn’t want to be surrounded by stacks of newspaper with sports stats. His baseball mitt sat on the kitchen table though it hadn’t been used in months. The comforter of his bed was dragging half on the floor.
A tapping on the apartment floor brought Rick’s attention back to the present. Ernesto’s signal that Lizzie had arrived at the diner. He double-checked the tiny space, then took the stairs to the kitchen two at a time. Ernesto motioned with his head to the dining room. Rick took a deep breath and pushed open the swinging door.
Lizzie wasn’t alone.
A man stood next to her with a large bag over one shoulder and a camera in the other hand. They didn’t hear Rick approach over their discussion about where to set the camera up for the first interview.
Cameras and interviews already? His stomach started to ache. “What happened to dinner with real food?”
Lizzie turned and smiled. “Talk first, eat later. We need to get these one-on-one discussions finished before the live premiere.”
He nodded, but the ball in the pit of his stomach grew rather than shrunk. “One-on-ones. I remember those.”
“Good.” She pointed to the back booth. “We could set up there, make it look intimate. Charlie?”
The guy with the camera looked at the fluorescent lighting in the diner and shook his head. “Intimacy? Not with this lighting. Is there somewhere else we could do this?”
Rick thought of all the cleaning he had done and gave a short nod. “My apartment’s upstairs. It’s not big, but it would give that intimate feeling you want.” He motioned to follow him through the kitchen and up the stairs. He paused only once, when Ernesto bobbed his head to the pie that was cooling on the counter.
Once upstairs, Rick watched Lizzie survey his domain, wondering about her thoughts. It was small but tidy. Exactly what he needed. A worn-out sleeper sofa that had graced the family room growing up. A big-screen television. The place wouldn’t win any design awards, but he liked it. This was home.
Charlie set up in the living area so that Rick could sit in the recliner while Lizzie lobbed questions from the sofa. When he left to retrieve more lights from the SUV, Rick turned to Lizzie. “I never liked these.”
“I remember.” She nodded and started ticking items off on her fingers. “We have a lot to do and less than a week to do it. We’ve had a crew refurbishing the two houses you found for the women to stay in. As it is, they’ll finish them up only hours before the contestants arrive. I have a laundry list of items to locate or buy, interviews to schedule and film, your family to prep.” She closed her hand in a fist. “We need to multitask, which means interviews and dinner tonight.”
“Didn’t you plan on prepping me for this interview?” He shook his head at the edge in his voice. He was disappointed. He’d admit it. Tonight was supposed to be about two friends catching up on the past few months. Not a Q&A in front of a third party. “I was hoping we could relax tonight before the real work starts.”
“It’s been nothing but work since I landed in L.A. last August.” She consulted her clipboard, then set it aside. Fully looked at him for the first time. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged, pretending that it was no big deal. “Honestly? No. I’ve been nervous since Christmas. Might have to stock up on the pink stuff to calm my stomach.” He chuckled. “Other than that, I’m great.”
“You’ll be fine. Remember—you’re the one in charge this time.” She picked up her clipboard again and glanced at it. “Except for one tiny thing.”
He frowned. “How tiny?”
She looked up at him. “I’m the executive producer. So I’m really the one who calls the shots.” She stood up when Charlie entered the room. “Let’s get set up and knock off some of these interviews. Then dinner. And I’ll be spending the rest of the evening in the editing bay.” She consulted her notes. “I thought we’d tape the segments about your initial impressions of what you’re looking for in a true love. Then also discuss what went wrong last time.”
“Nothing like ripping off that bandage.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”
* * *
ELIZABETH THUMBED THROUGH her cards while Charlie checked the light levels on Rick. She wouldn’t show up on camera, so she was worried less about what she looked like. However, this was the audience’s first look at Rick since his humiliation five years ago. He needed to look good. Confident. Ready to find love again.
Her schedule had the crew arriving tomorrow afternoon, then a short preproduction meeting followed by a tour of the town and facilities. Party plans needed to be finalized. The female contestants arrived two days after that, which meant making sure the houses were ready. Devon would turn up the day after the contestants for the final walk-throughs and rehearsals, and before she could sneeze they’d be airing live.
She rested her head on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. She thrived on the adrenaline of getting a show off the ground, but sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have a job that began at nine and finished at five. What would it be like to live a normal life?
“We’re ready, E.”
She lifted her head, opened her eyes and prayed that this interview would start things off right.
Charlie handed Rick a clapboard with the identifying information on it: take number, scene number, location and producer. It might seem like a cliché to the viewing audience, but it was vital to the editors who pieced the show together from interviews like this. She read off the information, then said, “Roll cameras.” She adjusted her note cards one more time. She glanced at Rick. “Ready?”
He couldn’t even look at her; he focu
sed on something beyond her against the wall. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”
She held a finger up to Charlie and leaned toward Rick. “Close your eyes.” He did after a long moment, but he looked as if he didn’t want to. She closed her eyes, as well. “Now, picture the woman you want to spend your life with. Not her physical features, but what she could add to your life. To enrich it. Make it sweeter. What would she be like?”
She opened her eyes and looked at the man before her. She swallowed hard. Those weren’t questions she was ready to answer herself. “Okay. Now open your eyes.” She caught her breath. “Rick, what are you looking for in a true love?”
“My true love is a woman who believes in me.” He smiled. “Even when I’m doing something she thinks is absolutely crazy. A woman who sees me as I am and loves me anyway. Someone who can turn my life upside down, yet make it better. I want a partner. An equal, but someone who’s more than me, like a complement to what I’m not. I want us to be a team. An unbeatable one.”
Elizabeth nodded and made notes. Ideas for other questions that would further probe his answers. “Have you ever met anyone like that?”
He stared down at his hands, then back at her. “I thought I had, but maybe I was wrong.”
“Maybe? Do you mean Brandy?”
He shrugged. “She wanted someone else.”
Charlie grunted and kept filming. Elizabeth turned to the next card. “Why do you think that things didn’t work out last time? And have you learned from your mistakes?”
“Things didn’t work because I was too immature. I didn’t know what I really wanted, but I grabbed on to something that looked awfully close.” He settled farther into his chair and rested his ankle on his other knee. “I’ve learned about myself in the past five years. I know what I want. And I also know that I’m willing to work on finding it.”
She nodded and made more notes, not really paying attention. Was she setting him up for disappointment? Sure, the show was based on the belief in love at first sight (or at least by the sixth week), and as producer of that show, she believed it. Almost. But she’d seen all the relationships forged on her show end in separation. What did that say for true love?
She turned to Charlie. “Cut.” She stood up and moved to the front door. “Let’s take a quick break, Charlie. Get something to eat. Rick, you’re doing great. Just keep concentrating on the mental picture of your true love.” She opened the door. “I’ll be right back.”
She walked down the stairs and found the cook in the kitchen. He flipped burgers and checked orders without a second thought. He was as attuned to his job as she was to hers. She gave the cook a smile. “Hi, Ernesto.”
He nodded at her. “Everything okay?”
“Couldn’t be better.” She looked around for one of the plastic tumblers and filled it with cold water from the tap. Rick didn’t stock his diner with designer bottled water. Or he hadn’t until she’d told him he should for the crew and contestants. She strode to the walk-in and found five cases of bottled water cooling on the shelves.
Just another reminder of how she was turning his normal life inside out. But was it for the better?
She turned back and found Ernesto watching her. “Rick get the espresso machine I sent?”
He turned back to his grill. “More buttons on that thing than you need to launch the space shuttle.”
“He’ll get good use out of it. Especially for the next couple of weeks.” She leaned against the counter. Tried to ignore the stomach grumblings that the aroma of the burgers on the grill caused.
“And after that, what happens?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “It’s his to keep.”
Ernesto and shook his head at her. He pointed to the aprons hanging up. “Dishes need washing if you got time.”
She held up her hands. “They’ve finally recovered since the last time, but I appreciate the invitation.” Maybe she’d offer to buy an industrial dishwasher for the diner, too. “We’ve got more work to do upstairs.”
“Work.”
She nodded. “Interviews. Plotting how the show will go once the women arrive. Making plans.”
He pointed to a cloth-covered pie. “I made dessert. You take it to him?”
She nodded. “Sure.” She started to walk back up the stairs but turned back. “You don’t like me.”
“I don’t know you, but Rick does.” He looked up at her. “He likes you.”
She thought of Rick and felt her cheeks warm. “I know. He’s become a good friend.”
“But I don’t like people who hurt my friends.”
“I wouldn’t, either.” She took her glass of water and the pie up the stairs so they could finish filming and she could call it a night and return to her room to work. That was what she needed to get through these doubts. More work.
And less thinking.
* * *
RICK ADJUSTED HIS SHIRT and glanced at Charlie, who adjusted the lights one more time even though they’d been perfect a moment ago. “So you like the snow?”
The cameraman shrugged. “I grew up in Florida. Never saw much of it.”
“That’s gonna change.” Rick chuckled and thought of how most of the crew would be experiencing firsts here, too. “It’s all part of the Michigan experience.”
Charlie grunted. Obviously not much for conversation. Rick tapped his fingers on his knee while he waited for Lizzie to return. What was taking her so long anyway? The sooner they finished these interviews, the better as far as he was concerned. “How was your trip here?”
“Fine.”
Okay. Thankfully, Lizzie returned with Ernesto’s pie in one hand. “I brought some dessert.”
Rick stood and took the pie from her. “Dessert before dinner? Perfect. I’ll serve.”
He found three plates and cut generous pieces, then handed them out. “I could use a break. You guys?”
Charlie accepted his plate of pie and a fork. Took a bite and closed his eyes. “You made this?”
“I wish. I don’t have the pie gene.” He handed Lizzie her plate and fork. “Ernesto is the genius here.”
They ate silently for a moment, reveling in the caramel and apples. Rick stood. “I could make us coffee?”
Charlie held up one hand. “Just water for me.”
“I’ll take a cup.” Lizzie paused in eating. “I’m going to need new clothes if I eat like this every day while we’re here.”
“You know what my mom would say about that.” He chuckled and walked into his kitchen area to fill the coffee carafe. “I only have milk up here.”
Charlie looked between the two of them. “Am I missing something?”
“Rick has the bad habit of remembering what everyone likes to eat and drink.” Lizzie shook her head. “It may work for the diner, but how am I going to use that to find you a wife?”
“Does everything have to be about that?” Rick scooped coffee into the filter basket, then swung it shut and started the machine. “I’m more than the diner. More than finding a wife.”
“Not for the next couple of months.” Lizzie balanced her plate of pie on her knee and used her fork to point at Rick. “You need to live, eat and breathe the show. Nothing is more important.”
And make his life just like hers? Rick joined them in the living room area. “I’m not saying it’s not important. It’s just not everything.”
“It should be.”
Rick crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I’m not you.” He handed the cameraman a glass of water. Okay, so he let the diner consume his life. It was better than being alone. Right?
Charlie cleared his throat as he accepted the drink. “Do I need to be here for this fight?”
Lizzie whipped her head around at him. “We’re not fighting. We’re discussing.”
“Right.” Charlie held his hands up in surrender. “My bad.” He stayed silent and continued to eat his pie.
Rick chuckled and returned to the kitchen counter. He’d missed this bantering. Missed Lizzie more than he’d realized.
He shook his head and prepared two cups of coffee before turning back to the two, who watched him. “No more discussing. Let’s finish these interviews.”
Lizzie smiled in response. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”
* * *
RICK’S MOM GREETED Rick and the crew when they arrived at the house. He held the door open as they unloaded the van of the lights, cameras and other equipment. He joined them in the family room, where his mom had laid a fire. It looked cozy. Homey. And the audience would want to join the family who lived here.
He adjusted the pictures on the mantel and glanced over his shoulder to find his mom watching him. She turned in a circle. The hem of her dress swished around her legs. “How do I look?”
He walked to her and kissed her cheek. “Fabulous. Like always.” He turned in a circle. “And me?”
She patted his cheek and walked into the adjoining kitchen. Took a plate of cookies from the counter. “I made these for the crew.”
“They’re gonna love you for this.” He grabbed one before she could slap his hand. “Are you ready for this? Because I’m not sure I am.”
She knit her eyebrows together and let out a big sigh. “Not exactly the time to be having doubts.” She put her arm around his waist. “But we can get through this together. We’ll find you the perfect wife. And the perfect mother of my grandchildren.”
Rick groaned. “Let’s get to the wedding before we start discussing kids, okay?” Talk about jumping ahead. Though the thought of a couple of rug rats running around the old house made him smile. He could imagine future holidays surrounded by his wife and kids. “Okay, I’m ready for this.”