“You finally got to have a pet.”
She looked pleased he’d remembered that her mother had never allowed her to have one. “I did. But it took a while before he was ready. He had to recover from all he’d been through. Most of the dogs that come to Second Chance need to heal before they can move on. When he was ready, they gave him a name, wrote up a bio, and put him up for adoption. In the bio, it said that every morning, he made his bed, hoping someone would want to take him home.”
“He made his bed?” It sounded like a stretch.
“I didn’t believe it, either, until they showed me the tape.” She shook her head with a smile. “He picked up each corner of his blanket with his mouth until it was spread out evenly. And then he sat down in his pen and waited for people to come. Never barked. He wanted to make a good impression. Tell me how anybody could resist that.”
“Smart dog.”
“Way smart. With a huge heart.” Charley’s eyes lit up. “When I saw him, I knew he had to be my dog. I wasn’t going home without him. But Second Chance is diligent about screening. It took three days of checking me out before they were satisfied Howard and I were compatible.”
“Thorough.”
Luke wished he’d been the one to put that light in her eyes. Jealous of a dog. Not an admirable quality. Especially when he understood; he adored his dog Ethel. She didn’t make her bed, but she gave him one hell of a greeting when he came home and she tucked in beside him when he took off his shoes to relax on the sofa.
“That’s one of the reasons they’re so good. We’re so good. After I experienced that firsthand, I found out they had an opening for a fundraising and events director. I was looking for a new job at the time, so I applied and went to work for Second Chance.”
“I get it. You want to help the place that helped you.”
“What if they’d been too full to take Howard? He’s my best friend, but he almost didn’t make it.”
They were quiet for a moment before Luke asked the question burning in his brain. “Do you want the money enough to convince viewers that Marc is your perfect match?”
Charley looked down at her feet. “He is. So it shouldn’t take that much convincing.”
He raised his eyes to take in the vast expanse of lawn, the flowers that were so brightly colored, they looked as though they’d been painted. It was too perfect. He couldn’t see even one petal on the ground. “You haven’t convinced me. I’m not sure you even like him much.”
“You’re not voting,” she snapped.
“No.” He shook his head, still taking in the scene before him, daring a leaf to fall.
“Marc is a good guy.”
“Yeah. Sure.” His shoulders tightened, his palms went clammy. He could swear the birds had ratcheted up their chirping. Don’t say it. Don’t— “But is that what you really want, a good guy?” It took everything he had to turn and look at her, to allow himself to get lost in the danger zone of those gray-green eyes, where she might see—might see that he wanted her to say no.
Because he, Luke Dean, wasn’t close to being a good guy, not even in the broadest definition of the word.
She didn’t say anything for the longest seconds of his life. She held his gaze, her heart-shaped lips parted. In surprise, in pity, in how-the-hell-do-I-get-out-of-this, he couldn’t tell.
And suddenly, he didn’t want to know. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, looking away again. “If you want to win, you’ve gotta give it everything you’ve got to make them believe.” Fuck, his voice had cracked.
“Luke.” She put her hand on his wrist.
He stood up, dislodging it. Her hand fell away. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Don’t leave.” Her plea rooted his feet to the grass. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but let’s start again.”
He wasn’t sure either. He knew he should leave. Hell, he’d fucked up when he’d decided to pick her up at the airport. Everything since then had been a downhill spiral.
“I told you what’s important to me,” Charley said. “So tell me what’s important to you.”
The answer came out before he had a chance to edit it. “Proving myself.”
“What is it you have to prove?”
He hadn’t meant to be that blunt. That honest. “When did this turn into being about me?” He knew when.
“I just want to know. I’m interested.” She took a sip of coffee that had to be cold by now.
He noticed that the mug trembled in her hand. This wasn’t easy for her, he knew. He tipped his chin back, examining the morning sky. Then he dropped it, meeting her gaze. “I don't have the best record for sticking with things.”
“That can’t feel good. Not easy on you.”
Her observation took him aback. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected by confessing to something so deeply personal, but it wasn’t that.
“It’s not easy on the people I hurt. I’m not important in the equation.” There. An A for self-awareness. He’d come a long way since college.
“Bullshit,” she said casually. “True, it sucks for the people you hurt, but they move on. You, on the other hand, are stuck in a revolving door you can’t get out of.”
Why the hell couldn’t she stick to a script he could follow? He felt his cheeks flush, the first time he could remember that happening…ever. “I’m working on it,” he said between clenched teeth.
“I guess the first step, admitting it, is the hardest.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
“I’d better get back,” Charley said, rising from the bench.
A couple of minutes ago, he’d been the one ready to leave and she wouldn’t let him. Now she was—what the—?
She raised a brow.
The thunder inside him must have pounded its way into his expression.
“Big challenge today,” she said. “Don’t we have to get ready for it?”
“Yes.” Amazing the word made it out of his mouth with his fucking jaw locked the way it was.
“Okay. See you later.” She lifted her hand in a wave and walked away, leaving Luke to stare at her back, wondering what had just happened. It had all seemed so clear in his mind before he walked into the kitchen this morning.
Rob Smiley wore a red t-shirt with khaki pants and sneakers so bright white, they were blinding. Every strand of his perfect hair was sprayed into place. As he began speaking to the assembled contestants and crew, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“This evening,” he announced, “each of our couples is going to participate in a fundraiser.”
Charley grinned at Marc. Fundraising, she knew.
“But not just any fundraiser,” Rob continued. “You will be at Wilson Elementary School, taking care of children so their parents can have a date night.”
This time when Charley and Marc traded looks, each contained an element of alarm.
Children!
“The parents have paid for your babysitting services and all of the money is being donated to the school’s library. A worthy cause, I’m certain you will agree.” A pause and then Rob’s buttery smile. “Each couple will be located in a different room of the school, taking care of up to ten children, ages two to nine. You will, once again, need to work together. This challenge should give your partner a revealing look into your potential parenting skills.” He surveyed the stunned expressions on contestants’ faces. “Sound good?”
“Sounds terrifying,” Charley whispered.
“I don’t know much about kids,” Marc whispered back, “but I do have two nephews.”
“I don’t know much about kids and I don’t have any nephews. Or nieces. We could be so screwed.”
A glum-looking Marc nodded his agreement.
“So, contestants,” continued Rob, “we’ll meet everyone back here in an hour, at four p.m. Be sure to wear something comfortable and…” He tilted his chin and put a finger to his chin, as if thinking hard. “Durable.”
Jason and Trevor, to one sid
e of Charley and Marc, looked excited. They were talking nonstop. Charley caught snippets. “We could—” “We so could do that—” “And maybe I’ll bring—” “Yes. That’ll work.”
To the other side of Charley and Marc, Brittany and Michael had their heads together, apparently determining strategy. Quietly, so no one else could hear. Charley wondered what kind of plays they’d run on those unsuspecting kids.
“We’ll be fine,” Charley told Marc as she tried to quell the uncertainty even she could hear in her voice. “They have to have games or something there that we can use to keep the kids entertained.”
“Right. Games.” He hesitated. “Or something.”
When Charley returned to the courtyard, dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a striped top, Luke stopped her before she could take her place at Marc’s side. “Good. You’re one of the early ones,” he said. “Kiss and Confess time.”
Her heart sank. It was part of the show, but she didn’t want to do it today. “How about after the babysitting thing?”
“No negotiating. Come on. It will only take a few minutes.”
Too bad producers didn’t have to do it too, Charley thought as she followed him. Would he own his behavior? Crap, she’d give anything to rewind that night to the moment he appeared at her door drunk. She could have helped him downstairs and let him sleep it off on the couch. She could have called him a cab. She could have… Dammit. She should have gotten over him years ago.
She settled herself into the stupid purple chair in the somber room. The flames of several tall candles danced in anticipation. She folded her hands together and waited for his question.
“How do you feel about tonight’s activity?”
“I’m not sure what to expect. I haven’t been around that many kids. Just a few of my friends’ babies, but I’ve never taken care of any of them on my own.”
“Are you worried?”
“I’m not worried.” She smiled, daring him to correct her. “Marc will be there with me and I’m sure we’ll make a great team. He and I have done really well at working together. We balance each other out.” Had she imagined it or had a shadow of disappointment crossed Luke’s face? Hard to tell in a room filled with candles where there were more shadows than not.
“What are you going to do if you get peed on?”
Charley laughed. “I don’t think I’ll get peed on, but if I do, I guess I’ll just clean it up and go on. My clothes are all washable.”
“Do you think Marc is your perfect match?” The question shot into the air and hovered over her head.
Her stomach did a somersault. It took everything she had to keep her eyes focused on the camera lens instead of glaring at Luke. “It’s early yet, but I think there’s a good chance Marc is my perfect match. I can see why the experts put us together. He’s a wonderful guy.”
“And?”
And…was he forcing her into saying what he knew she didn’t believe, or was he giving her an opportunity? She blinked and smiled brightly. “And I’m lucky to be matched with him. I can’t wait to see what tonight brings.”
“We’re good. Cut.”
Her shoulders sagged.
Charley’s phone rang as she made her way back to the courtyard. She glanced at the caller ID. Jessica, the executive director at Second Chance. Charley tapped accept and said hello to her boss.
“Bad news.”
Every part of Charley tensed. Jessica was taking care of Howard while Charley was in California. “What’s wrong?”
“All Natural Pets backed out of their gift.”
Relief surged through her that the bad news wasn’t about Howard, but was quickly replaced by wrenching disappointment. “Oh no. Why?”
“They’re in trouble. News just came out that their food isn’t quite as natural as they claim.” Jessica made a sound of disgust. “False advertising. We are, of course, pulling it from our stock room and will feed our dogs something different.”
“Absolutely. We have to do that.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But they know how much we’re counting on that money.” The $100,000 pledge was a big part of what they needed for expansion.
“Guess it will be going toward their legal fees, instead.”
Luke walked by Charley, gesturing for her to come into the courtyard.
“I have to go, Jessica. I’ll try to think of something we can do.” The money from this show was even more important now.
“Thanks, Charley.” Her boss sighed. “I didn’t want to bother you, but I was sure you’d want to know.”
Charley clutched her cell so hard, her fingers began to ache. She thought of all the hopeful dogs and lonely cats in their cages when she’d left and her heart hurt.
She walked straight past Luke to join Marc, who gave her a hug. “You ready for this?” she asked Marc.
“I am if you are.”
“We’re going to be great.” They had to be.
Two of the experts—psychic Brooklyn Hanx and sexologist Dr. K.—rode along with the contestants, producers, and crew to the elementary school. Rob had explained the experts wanted a chance to observe, to see how things were going between the couples.
Brooklyn was second to board the van, right behind Charley, and dropped into the seat next to her. Marc took another seat, where he was joined by one of the cameramen.
“How’s it going so far?” Brooklyn asked.
“Good.” Charley nodded. “He’s a really great person.”
“He is.”
“And you could tell we were a match, just from the pieces of clothing we gave you?” It was an intriguing idea.
“Oh, you know, lots of things go into it,” the other woman said, with a vague wave of her hand. “Can’t really talk about that. Super-secret stuff. Or so they tell me.”
They watched in silence for a few minutes as the scenery rushed by.
“I don’t think I’ve had a chance to tell you,” Brooklyn said, “but you have one of my most favorite names in the world.”
“Thanks. I like yours, too.”
“I was born in Brooklyn. My parents were big into meaningful names.”
“Good thing you weren’t born in the Bronx.”
“My brother was. That’s how he got his name.”
“Seriously?”
The other woman chuckled. “No. But that would have been good, don’t you think? He could have spent his life being a tongue twister. Instead, his name is David, because our parents got tired of creative names for their carnal activities by the time he was born.” She grinned. “My older sister, I kid you not, is named Susquehanna because my parents conceived her while on a camping trip along the Susquehanna River. It’s okay, though, we just call her Suze.”
“Not sure that’s better. Suze Hanx. If she introduced herself, I’d probably say bless you.”
This time, Brooklyn’s laugh was loud, her mouth open, her curly hair bobbing and the several bracelets on her wrist jangling as she slapped the notebook in front of her. “Love that. Next time I see my sister, I’m going to sneeze her name.”
Charley liked Brooklyn. She gestured at the notebook. “What will you take notes on today?”
“How well you interact with each other, with the kids.” She gave Charley a rueful grin. “Any crazy things you do that the producers will want us to talk about on camera.”
“We’ll do our best to oblige.”
“That’s the spirit.” She lowered her voice. “Just between us, you all don’t appear to be quite crazy enough for them yet, so watch out for whatever that might mean.”
Charley mulled over the woman’s words. “Why are you telling me?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’d like to see all of you have a chance to make it. A real chance. Not get sidetracked by whatever wrench the show decides to throw in. Just because they think it makes for,” she lifted her fingers in air quotes, “good TV.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Brooklyn gave Charley’s hand a quick squeeze and moved on to su
ggest Michael relocate so she could talk with Brittany.
Charley braved a quick look at Luke, sitting two rows ahead of her. Whatever wrench the show decides to throw in. Like having one of the producers sleep with a contestant?
A tiny, niggling doubt began beating a tin hammer around the edges of her brain.
“We’re so glad you’re all here,” the Wilson Elementary School’s principal gushed. A round, comfy-looking woman wearing black flats and bright blue glasses, she seemed delighted to have the trappings of a TV show swirling about her school. “This is an important fundraiser for our library and we appreciate you helping us out.” Her head bobbed up and down.
“Parents will begin dropping children off beginning in about fifteen minutes,” she continued. “You should have everything you need right there in the rooms. Just be sure to keep an eye on each child and know what is going on at all times. Ever vigilant!” She stopped to beam at them. “Does anyone have questions before we take you to your assigned rooms?”
The three couples looked at each other and then back at the principal, shaking their heads.
“Terrific,” she enthused. “Let’s get started.”
A parent volunteer led Charley and Marc, trailed by Luke and the camera crew, down a hallway with gleaming vinyl floors that smelled of orange-scented cleaner and gym shoes. The volunteer stopped before a brown door proclaiming the room the home of Ms. Moore’s Miracles, Second Grade. “This is where you’ll be.” She opened the door and stood aside as they walked in.
Small desks were grouped together in the center of the room, each surrounded by small blue plastic chairs with stainless steel legs. Bright blues and greens dominated every wall of the room, from neatly arranged cubbies to the poster board with names of those with class jobs. A large teacher’s desk surveyed it all from the corner.
“Here is your roster,” the volunteer, who wore a nametag that said Rose, told them. “It has the names and ages of the kids you’ll be taking care of, along with the parents’ names and their cell numbers. In case of emergency.”
Oh please God, don’t let there be any emergencies. To Rose and the camera, she said, “Perfect.”
Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1) Page 9