by SUE FINEMAN
Megan went to show the nurses to their rooms, leaving Catherine alone with her father. “I thought Tony did a good job with the amount of space he had to work with.”
“Yes, he did.” He rolled over to the window and looked out at the gardens. “He’d make one helluva father for my grandchildren.”
She couldn’t believe he was talking about something so personal. They’d never talked like this before.
He turned to face her. “He’s more man than any of those wimpy friends you had in school.”
She smiled a little. “Yes, he is.” If only he knew.
He lifted his chin. “Do you love him?”
She thought about joking her way out of answering, but she couldn’t, not about this. “Yes, I love him.” After knowing him only a few days, she had no doubts about her feelings. She’d fallen hard and fast.
“Then why did you let him leave?”
“I’ll see him at Cara’s house at the end of the month, and he’ll be doing the television show in June.”
“Your television show?”
She nodded.
Megan came in, interrupting a conversation Catherine found uncomfortable. Megan asked, “Catherine, did you hire a housekeeper yet?”
“No. Do you know someone?”
“Maybe. My friend Jill is looking for a new job, and she’s always wanted to live in Santa Barbara. She may take the job.”
“Then you take care of it.” Catherine eased toward the door. “Excuse me. If I don’t get busy on this show, we won’t be filming anything.” Suddenly uneasy around her parents, she escaped to the other room.
Catherine worked on the content and pacing of the show, fleshing out the original concept to keep the viewers tuning in for the next episode, and the next. The more she worked, the better it looked. She’d always liked character actresses better than leading ladies, and the idea of giving those lesser characters a shot at the leading role, of putting the underdog in a position of winning, would add a level of excitement to the show. Viewers would be rooting for the nice girls to capture Tony’s heart.
She hoped Tony wouldn’t like any of them too much.
The host would explain the concept of the show to the women before they met Tony, and they’d all have to agree to keep their names hidden from him for the first few shows.
Her mind wandered back to Tony. As if it ever strayed far from Tony. She had to get him a wardrobe for the show, although his denim shorts and sleeveless red shirt were the sexiest things she’d ever seen on any man. His legs, strong and straight and hairy, were…
She looked up to see Megan standing in the doorway. “Is Father all right?”
“He’s resting. It’ll take time for him to learn what he can do and what he can’t do.”
“I know. I’m glad you’re here, Megan. I need to go back to the office tomorrow and watch the interviews of the woman. My assistant seems to think this is a beauty contest.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” Catherine explained the concept of the show.
Megan laughed. “Does Tony know?”
“He won’t be told until we can get his reaction on camera. According to Cara, he loves women, especially tall blondes. His reaction when he sees the girls he eliminates should be interesting, since he won’t know which ones he’s letting go until he calls their names.” She hoped Tony didn’t hate her for not telling him.
“Tony is an expressive man. Italian?”
Catherine smiled. “Yes, he’s Italian, and he lives with his mother.”
“I’d love to meet her.”
“So would I.” In that instant, Catherine knew what to do during one segment of the show, after they got it down to three or four girls. Tony’s mother could give them cooking lessons, meals they’d serve to Tony. If she’d come. Another thing to add to the growing list of things to do. Ask Mrs. Donatelli to give cooking lessons.
Maybe the girls could meet Tony before they knew who he was. He could be working on something in the house or playing catch with his dog, but he couldn’t be close enough to hear them talking to each other or he might hear their names. She tapped at the keyboard, adding it to her list. When she looked up, Megan was gone.
Catherine ate lunch with her parents on the terrace beside the pool. Father sat in his wheelchair. His hip was healing just fine, but the cast on his leg was heavy and cumbersome.
“Megan, did you find a housekeeper?” he asked.
“Yes, my friend Jill is coming from San Diego. I told her she could live here in the house. I hope that’s all right.”
“There’s an apartment over the garage. She can live there.”
Catherine shook her head. “That’s a mess. It hasn’t been updated in fifty years. Neither has the apartment where Sanchez lives.”
He pinned her in a stare. “How would you know?”
“Because I’ve lived here for most of my life, and I’ve never seen you spend a nickel on the staff’s quarters. The carpet in the maid’s rooms was so old it was rotten, the furniture was shot, and the bathroom looked like a transplant from a dingy gas station. It should have been condemned years ago.”
He sipped his tea. “Then fix it up.”
“Maybe I will, after I finish my TV show. In the meantime, Megan’s friend can stay here in the house. The nurses are staying here, and there are plenty of empty rooms upstairs.”
He looked from Catherine to Megan and back to Catherine. “Looks like I’m outnumbered.”
Catherine sipped her iced tea. “It’s about time. You’ve been walking all over people for as long as I can remember. Somehow, I don’t think Megan will let you get away with that.”
Instead of chewing her out for speaking to him like that, he cocked his head and looked at Megan. “I think you’re right.”
With that said, Catherine knew it was safe to leave her mother in charge of her father’s recovery. “I’m leaving for LA this evening, so I don’t get caught in all that traffic in the morning, and I’ll try to get back for a few hours this weekend. No parties while I’m gone, kids, and for God’s sake, if you can’t be good, be careful. Use protection.”
Catherine flashed her shocked parents a big smile. “Gotcha!”
Father glanced at Megan. “Can you believe that kid?”
Catherine looked from one face to the other. Her father was barely containing a smile, while her mother looked a little shocked. “One more thing, Megan. If Fawn calls, tell her you’re Mrs. Walter Timmons. If you don’t, she’ll be back with her paint charts, ready to try some of that colorful faux finish on the walls.”
“Fawn?” Megan’s eyes sparkled. “That’s a cute name.”
“For a deer or a California beach babe,” Catherine quipped. If the name belonged to anyone else, she might think it was cute too, but this fawn was no Bambi.
Catherine’s parents sat by the pool, talking and laughing like lovers. Over the years, he’d had a bunch of women in and out of this house. Megan was older, heavier, and not as well dressed as any of them, but he’d never looked at another woman like he was looking at her. There was no doubt in Catherine’s mind that her parents still loved each other. Too bad it took a crisis like Father’s fall to bring them back together.
What she wouldn’t give to have Tony look at her like that.
Chapter Seven
Catherine found a message from Tony on her cell phone, but when she tried to return Tony’s call, the girl who answered said, “He’s having dinner and I hate to disturb him.”
Tony wasn’t avoiding her, was he? No, of course not. “Please tell him I called.”
After dinner, Catherine kissed her parents goodbye and began the drive to LA. She checked her cell phone again, but there were no more calls from Tony. Why hadn’t he returned her call? Was he angry with her? Had he changed his mind about doing the show?
She called Cara’s house and left another message for Tony to call, no matter how late it was, but Tony didn’t call.
Catherine spent a restless night worrying
and left another message in the morning, before she drove to the office for the production meeting she’d scheduled with Henry’s staff. The same woman answered the phone and said, “Tony’s working and can’t come to the phone right now.”
Disappointed, Catherine gave up and drove to the office. Minutes later, she opened the production meeting. “First, I’d like to thank Mitzi for pitching in to do the interviews while I took care of family business. My father is at home now, in bed or in a wheelchair.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Mitzi. “Maybe you should stay with him, Cat.”
She’d like that. Mitzi would love to take over this show and turn it into what she wanted, but Mitzi would kill it. Catherine had been with Henry for three years, and she’d accomplished what Mitzi hadn’t in fifteen. She had a show of her own.
Ignoring Mitzi, Catherine passed out copies of the story board. The details had to be fleshed out, but it was a good start.
Scooter asked, “What’s the house like?”
“It’s unbelievably nice. I’ll take the technical crew in a few weeks before the shooting, so they can figure out where to put the cameras and lights. I don’t want anyone drilling holes in the walls or doing anything that will leave a scar. When we leave, I want that house to look the same way it did when we went in. Cara is generously allowing us to use her home for this show, and there will be no damage.”
Scooter tapped his pen on the table. “You’ve been there or just seen pictures?”
“I’ve been there several times, and I’m going there for Cara’s birthday party at the end of the month. I’ll get a better idea of the logistics while I’m there—the rooms available for the crew and the participants to stay in and the best rooms to show on camera.”
Several sets of eyes stared at her as she continued. Scooter openly gaped, but Mitzi smiled knowingly.
“I’ve met the bachelors for the first two shows. The first one is Tony, a carpenter who lives at home with his mother.”
“He’s a babe,” said Mitzi, passing around the pictures Catherine had emailed her.
“He’s also a nice man and a big flirt,” said Catherine. “Mitzi has interviewed several women, and as soon as I see the interview tapes, I’ll have a better idea which ones we can use.”
They reviewed the things Catherine expected to happen at each point in the show. “Cara’s butler, Mr. Pettibone, would be a wonderful addition, if he agrees to appear on camera. He’s a traditional English butler, right down to the uniform and accent. We could have him meet the girls when they arrive and escort them to their rooms. There’s an intercom system in the house, but I thought Mr. Pettibone could tap on the doors and escort the women downstairs for each session.”
Henry nodded. “By all means.”
“I’ll ask him the next time I see him.” It was already on her list of things to do.
Remembering something Cara requested, Catherine said, “Henry, Cara wants the money from the use of the estate to go into The Monica Andrews Foundation, and we’ll want to add that to the credits.”
Henry nodded and jotted notes to himself.
The only reason Cara was letting them use her estate was because Catherine had asked her. If anyone else on Henry’s staff had asked, she would have turned them down flat. “If anyone here has a problem with a security screening prior to the show, I need to know now.” She glanced around the table, and no one said a word.
“What about the bachelor?” asked Henry.
“Tony has already been approved by Cara’s security staff.”
Henry gave her a strange look, and she knew she’d have to tell him, but not the others. “Mitzi, did you line up wardrobe and makeup and hair stylist?”
“Yes to all. The girls will be given formal dresses, but not—”
“They’ll be given whatever they need to wear on camera, including costumes for the party. It’s included in the budget. I want their costumes to reflect their personalities—belly dancer, dance hall girl, princess, Indian maiden, Cleopatra, or whatever. We’ll put Tony in a pirate outfit—tight breeches, flowing white shirt open down the front, and high black boots. The costume ball will be the first show after he takes off his blindfold, and each girl will introduce herself to Tony that evening.”
“How many girls will be left by then?” asked Henry.
“Seven.” Catherine glanced at Henry. “He’ll eliminate the first six before he knows who he’s eliminating, and one more after the costume ball. Each of the remaining girls will have their portraits taken in their costumes, and they’ll autograph them, so Tony can put the names and faces together. After the party, we’ll show him picking up the pictures and studying them.”
Several people around the table were smiling or nodding, including the two writers. She took that as a good sign.
They spent the rest of the meeting going over the segments of each show and filling in details. Catherine intended to get Tony’s dog in there somewhere. She couldn’t picture him with a woman who didn’t like animals, but then she couldn’t picture Tony with anyone else but her.
As soon as the meeting ended, Henry called her into his office. “Good meeting, Cat. You have a good handle on what you want from the show, and the pacing is excellent. Are you getting what you want from Mitzi?”
“Yes and no. She’s planning a beauty contest, and that’s not what I want. If the women are all beautiful, the concept won’t work.”
“It’ll work if you keep on top of Mitzi. So tell me. Who’s the guy, and why did Cara Andrews want him on the show?”
“His name is Tony Donatelli. His cousin is Cara’s husband. And you are not going to use his name on the show or for publicity. If he allows himself to be identified at the end of the show, that’s fine, but the choice has to be his.”
“Why the big secret?”
“Tony can’t tell if women are attracted to him or to the idea of being related to Cara Andrews. I understand. That’s why I’m Cat here instead of Catherine Timmons. Aside from you, nobody on the staff knows who I am.”
Henry dropped his pen on the desk. “We’ll do it your way, but I hope he’ll let us use his name for publicity after the show is in the can.”
“That has to be his choice.” She’d told Tony they wouldn’t use his last name, and she wouldn’t betray his trust.
After Catherine closed herself in her office, she tried again to reach Tony by phone. The same girl answered and said he couldn’t come to the phone. Was he even getting her messages?
There was more than one way to get through. She nabbed Scooter, hit the redial button on the phone, and told Scooter to ask for Mr. Pettibone. He was put on hold and Catherine took the phone. “Thanks, Scooter.”
After a short wait, Mr. Pettibone answered. “Mr. Pettibone, this is Catherine Timmons. I’ve left several messages for Tony, but he hadn’t returned my calls.”
“Please hold for a moment, Miss Timmons. Mr. Donatelli has been expecting your call.”
Catherine sighed with relief. He wasn’t avoiding her. But whoever that girl was, her job was toast.
“Hey, Catherine. I tried to reach you. Why didn’t you return my call?” Tony’s voice made her smile.
“I left three messages and finally went through Mr. Pettibone.”
“You’re kidding. I didn’t get any messages. How’s Walt?”
“He’s doing okay, and he loves his room.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Listening to Tony’s deep voice, that knot of worry in her stomach loosened, and the longer they talked, the better she felt. It had been like that from the day she’d met him. Tony calmed her and excited her at the same time. Her spirit felt so light it floated around the room, and her body tingled from the sound of his deep, sexy voice.
“I miss you, Princess.”
“I miss you, too, Tony.” She longed to feel his strong arms around her and his lips on hers.
“Can you come early for Cara’s birthday bash?”
“I’ll try.” Sh
e’d do more than try. She’d be there if she had to strap on wings and fly there under her own power.
<>
Tony wanted to ask Mr. Pettibone who had been answering the phone the last couple of days, but he didn’t have to ask. Lisa was in tears. She’d been fired. Stupid girl knew he’d been waiting for a phone call, and she couldn’t bother to call him to the phone or pass on a message. He’d asked her twice if he had any messages. She was too young and irresponsible to work here.
The staff was quiet the rest of the day, their usual chatter subdued. Tony hated firing people, but he didn’t hesitate to do it if necessary. Forgiving honest mistakes was one thing. Lying or not doing the job was grounds for dismissal on his crews. Who had time to mess around with employees like that when there were so many other qualified people out there looking for work?
Whistling for his dog, Tony returned to work on the gazebo. Riley came on the run. Tony’s spirits wagged along with Riley’s tail. Catherine called.
He finished the framing and stood back to examine his work. So far, so good.
And not just with the gazebo.
<>
Catherine reviewed the videos of all the interviews Mitzi had done, and there were quite a few. For the most part, she’d picked the ones most comfortable on camera, and those were the pretty ones, of course. One girl talked too much, a paralegal from Tennessee named DeeNae. She was a bleached blonde with a pleasant accent.
Mitzi came in and sat beside her. “That one talks too much.”
“She’s cute,” said Catherine. “The chattering is probably nerves, but so what if it isn’t? She’ll drive the other girls crazy. Instant conflict. She has personality, and that’s what we’re looking for.”
“Okay, I’ll add her to the list. What about the valley girl?”
“Which one is she?”
“Charlotte, but she wants to be called Cookie.”
Catherine watched that one next. Cookie was twenty-five, a college dropout, unemployed, and she lived with her parents. She had no direction in life, no goals except to find some great guy and party. Catherine laughed. “If you had a job opening, would you hire this girl?”