Finding Mr. Right Now

by Meg Benjamin

  Technically, of course, Monica should have looked pretty tired herself, given last night. But she didn’t. In fact, she looked spectacular, or at least he thought so. He gave himself permission to study her for a moment—the slender arms and legs visible in her loose silk blouse and slacks, the alluring hint of generous bosom, the way her butterscotch hair had begun to curl slightly in the evening air. No question—Colorado agreed with her.

  She leaned toward Ronnie, one hand on her shoulder, speaking softly. Ronnie’s lower lip jutted forward in a pout, but then she shrugged. Monica turned toward Glenn and nodded.

  “Let’s try it again,” he called.

  Ronnie squared her shoulders, raising her head as the camera turned her way again.

  Paul leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

  “Looks like she’s done,” Brendan muttered a few minutes later.

  He opened his eyes and watched Ronnie walk back across the terrace. Brendan flexed his fingers nervously. Sid positioned Billy Joe on the other side of the fire pit as Monica walked their way.

  “Okay, guys,” she said. “We’re going to put you over here so Ronnie doesn’t have to walk around the fire pit to reach you. We need all three of you sort of bunched up together.”

  Brendan bounced to his feet, rubbing his damp palms along his thighs. Paul walked behind him to the other side where Billy Joe lounged in one of the deep chairs.

  “We need all of you standing,” Monica said crisply.

  Billy Joe gave her a slow grin, then pushed himself to his feet. “I guess this is worth standing up for.”

  “I guess it is.” Monica’s jaw looked remarkably firm all of a sudden. “Let’s have the three of you stand together over here.” She gestured toward a clear space near the stairs.

  Billy Joe stepped to the front of the group, standing closest to the stairs where Ronnie would enter. Brendan stood beside him. Paul took his place at the end of the line.

  Monica studied them, frowning. “Paul, you’re too tall, step back a little so you don’t tower over everybody quite so much.” She glanced at him, the corners of her mouth edging up in a tiny smile.

  He shifted back a step, ignoring Billy Joe’s snarl. The lighting crew moved in then, and he lost sight of her. Beside him, Brendan kept swallowing.

  “It’s okay,” Paul said quietly. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t worry?” Brendan stared at him, forehead furrowed. “How can you say that?”

  Paul shrugged, trying not to grimace. “Got a feeling.” For the first time it occurred to him to wonder how trustworthy Ronnie was. Sure she’d said she was going to cut him, but what if she decided Brendan was too annoying to keep around? It was always possible.

  The lighting and sound crew moved back. “Okay,” Glenn called. “Let’s get going on this.”

  Ronnie took her place at the top of the stairs overlooking the terrace. Brendan straightened, concentrating on her face. Beside him, Billy Joe leaned negligently against a chair, his mouth curved in a slight, mocking smile.

  Paul blew out a breath. Almost over.

  As the cameras moved in, Ronnie stepped delicately down the stairs, her face solemn. She ignored Billy Joe entirely, heading straight for Brendan. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

  When she reached him, Ronnie leaned forward. Brendan was almost trembling with the effort of standing still.

  Her lips brushed his, the signal he was safe. Brendan’s eyes closed for a moment. He looked like a condemned man who’d just been reprieved by the governor.

  Paul found himself grinning, then abruptly turned it off as Ronnie headed his way. He surreptitiously moved his right hand forward to make it easier for her to shake, the goodbye signal.

  She stopped in front of him, staring up at him with wide eyes. Paul let his lips slide into a faint smile. Go ahead, Ronnie. Let’s do this thing.

  She leaned forward and kissed him.

  He managed not to let his jaw drop, but it was close.

  Billy Joe’s control wasn’t as good. “You have got to be kidding me,” he hissed.

  Ronnie turned his way, her eyes flat. She walked in front of him, her hand extended.

  For a moment, Paul thought Billy Joe would hide his hands behind his back. His eyes narrowed as his jaw firmed. “So this is it?”

  “This is it,” she said, taking his hand in hers briefly.

  “Fuck,” he said distinctly.

  Ronnie’s expression didn’t change. She gave him one of those grimace smiles she’d developed over the last couple of weeks, then turned and stomped back up the stairs.

  “Cut,” Donovan called.

  “Goddamn fucking cunt,” Billy Joe muttered.

  Brendan stood frozen for a moment. Then he grabbed Billy Joe by the shoulder, bashing his fist on the corner of his jaw.

  Billy Joe went down like a sack of bricks. Then pushed himself back to a sitting position, shaking his head. He stared up at Brendan blankly. “What the hell was that for?”

  “Nobody talks that way about the woman I love,” Brendan said, his voice tight. “Nobody talks that way about women period. Not around me.”

  Behind them, the makeup crew broke into applause.

  “Shit,” Glenn Donovan yelled. “Did anybody get that on tape?”

  Paul closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing all the curses that rose to his lips. Someone touched his arm, and he glanced down to see Monica staring up at him with a faintly rueful smile.

  “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

  He sighed. “Tell me, lady, who do I screw to get off of this show?”

  Monica gazed up the stairs where Ronnie had disappeared with her supporting entourage. “Unfortunately, judging from what just happened, it seems to be her.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The rest of the taping took another three hours, part of which involved finding Billy Joe in the bar and dragging him back to the terrace. Monica almost felt sorry for him, even after she remembered his comment about Ronnie. Billy Joe might be a first-class jerk, but as far as she could tell he’d been knocked as flat by Ronnie’s rejection as he had by Brendan’s punch.

  Of course, she reflected later, that might have been because of a certain overconfidence on his part. She heard him proposition one of the light crew on their way back from the shoot. To her credit, the grip had given him a quick demonstration of the vocabulary she used when somebody dropped something heavy on her toe. Billy Joe had slouched back toward the Bachelor House, presumably to pack.

  She thought about trying to set something up with Paul for the rest of the evening, but decided against it. She was suffering from a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation, mostly at Ronnie but partly at herself for thinking their problems might be almost over. Nothing about this relationship had been easy so far—what made her think the situation was going to improve? Plus, of course, she’d have had to smuggle him into her room again, which might be sort of tricky given that Ronnie seemed to have taken up residence there.

  Ronnie was seated on the bed when Monica came back, her blonde hair loose on her shoulders, her eyes in full baby seal mode.

  Monica blinked. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” She managed to keep the exasperation out of her voice this time.

  “I had to cut him,” Ronnie blurted. “I had to. I didn’t have any choice.”

  Monica sank onto the bed beside her, wondering if she were up to this. “It’s okay. It’s your life, Ronnie. You have to make your own choices.”

  “He was such a jerk. And he was all wrong for the show anyway. Everybody hated him. I mean, I got tons of email telling me how much they hated him.” Ronnie rubbed her hands across her face.

  Monica grimaced. People sent messages to the show about their favorites on Finding Miss Right. There was even a discussion board. But the contestants weren’t supposed to read the comments. There wasn’t a hard and fast rule against it, but it wasn’t a good idea. She should have checked to make sure Ronnie wasn’
t logging on.

  For the moment, however, she needed to concentrate on getting Ronnie back to her own room. “Like I said, it’s your choice, Ronnie. You don’t need to listen to anyone but yourself. If he’s not right for you, he’s not right. You’re the only one whose opinion matters on this.” Oh yeah, Monica, like you really believe that. In reality, Glenn’s opinion counted for more than either of them.

  Ronnie shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.”

  Monica pinched the bridge of her nose. “You guess?”

  “He just… He was such a jerk!” Ronnie’s lower lip began to tremble.

  Monica’s jaw clenched. Crap. She didn’t know how to get out of this one exactly, given that cutting Billy Joe was simultaneously a good choice for Ronnie and a lousy choice for Paul. “You have to trust your instincts, honey. If he didn’t seem right, he wasn’t.”

  “We were out last night,” Ronnie whispered. “We went to his room at the Bachelor House.”

  “Really? That was sort of daring.” Also stupid, of course, since the place was crawling with cameras.

  “I thought he was really sweet, but he wasn’t. Not when we got there.” Ronnie sniffled into a tissue.

  Monica bit her lip. Her chest felt tight all of a sudden. So far as she knew, they’d never had date rape on the show. “Did he…do something, Ronnie?”

  “Well, of course we did something,” she snapped. “Why do you think we went there in the first place?”

  Monica blew out a breath. “Okay, so nothing you didn’t want to do. Nice to hear.”

  “He just wasn’t, like, romantic.” Ronnie sniffled again. “Not like he was on the show. I thought he’d be more thoughtful or something. He was just, sort of…crude. I hate crude.”

  “So it’s a good thing you found out now. Before you chose him, I mean.” Monica leaned back on her elbows, trying not to slump. Maybe if she reassured Ronnie enough she’d go back to her own room so Monica could get some sleep.

  Ronnie nodded slowly, as if she were considering the possibility. “I guess so. It would have been a lot harder later.”

  Monica gave her a limp smile, trying to keep her eyes open. “And Brendan’s a really nice guy.”

  Ronnie shrugged. “Yeah.”

  Leave it. Just leave it. But, of course, she couldn’t. She gritted her teeth. “So what’s the problem with Brendan?”

  “He’s so sort of…nice.” Ronnie sighed. “Just really nice and all. He makes me feel like I might break if he looks at me wrong. I mean, I think that’s the way he feels. He treats me like I’m made out of blown glass or something.”

  “You haven’t had a chance to get to know each other yet,” Monica said desperately. “Not really. Now you can take your time.” Assuming they could do that with a camera crew looking on.

  Ronnie shrugged again. “I guess.”

  Monica sat up again, rubbing her tired eyes. “Ronnie, what is it you want? What’s going on?”

  “I just… I feel like I maybe made a mistake. Or maybe not. I just don’t know.” Her lower lip trembled again.

  Monica thought about telling her that either way it was too late to do anything about it now, but she figured that wouldn’t be a good idea at the moment. “You’ll have a couple of days while they set up the finale. You could take the time to get to know Brendan a little better.”

  “You think that would help?” Ronnie sounded doubtful.

  Monica rubbed the spot between her eyes where a headache was forming. “It wouldn’t hurt to know him better. That way you wouldn’t feel so shaky.”

  Ronnie blew out a long breath. “Maybe. But there’s Paul too.”

  Suddenly Monica wasn’t feeling drowsy anymore. In fact, she’d seldom been more alert. “I thought you were going to cut Paul. You told him you were. And you told me.”

  “Well, that was before I went out with Mr. Three-Vodkas-and-Coke-Isn’t-Drunk last night.” Her lower lip jutted out in a pout. “Paul’s not crude. He’s nice.”

  Monica managed not to snarl. “Yes, he is. Very nice.”

  Ronnie glanced at her. “Look, I know you’re going out and everything, but I need somebody I wouldn’t mind spending time with. For when the show’s over. I mean there’s all the follow-up stuff, the dates and the anniversary shows and all. And Paul’s a good guy.”

  Okay, time for a little straight talk here. “Paul’s a great guy. But you’re supposed to be looking for your soul mate, somebody you could spend your life with, Mr. Right. Paul isn’t your Mr. Right, Ronnie.”

  Because he’s mine. Monica blinked, quickly stowing that thought away at the back of her mind for later.

  “Oh for Pete’s sake, Monica. I’m not spending the rest of my life with any of these guys.”

  Monica blinked. “That isn’t the way you used to feel. At the beginning you said you expected to find your Mr. Right.”

  Ronnie’s lip jutted out dangerously. “I said a lot of things when this was just starting out. I changed my mind, okay?”

  Oooookay. “You may not be spending your life with any of these guys, but you will be spending the next month or so with them. Or you’re supposed to, anyway.” She knew the contract was hazy on that point, but some post-show interaction was required.

  “I don’t know if I could spend three or four weeks with Brendan.” Ronnie sighed. “He’s just really not my type. Paul seems like someone I’d like to get to know better. And we could hang out.”

  Monica dug her fingers into the spread. She was pretty sure the last thing Paul wanted was to spend time hanging out with Ronnie rather than writing. “I don’t know how enthusiastic Paul would be about committing more time to this, Ronnie. I mean he was originally a fill-in, remember? He didn’t apply to be one of the bachelors. We brought him in when that other guy dropped out.” After you threw a fit in front of Artie Fairstein.

  Ronnie shrugged. “Not my problem, really. You people would be the ones who’d have to figure out how to make him do it.”

  Monica stared at her for a long moment, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t be too insulting. Somehow she needed to keep on Ronnie’s good side so that she could talk her out of this. Although the idea of making Ronnie cry didn’t seem all that bad right then.

  And then she felt almost too angry to talk. “I need to get some sleep, Ronnie,” she said abruptly. “So do you. Maybe we can talk about this tomorrow.”

  Ronnie sighed, sliding to the edge of the bed. “Maybe. I don’t know if I want to talk about it any longer. To anybody.”

  “Whatever,” Monica snapped. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She held Ronnie’s gaze, not even trying to smile.

  After a moment, Ronnie walked to the door. “Yeah, whatever,” she muttered. She closed the door quite firmly behind her.

  Monica stared down at her hands, wondering if she should call Paul. She could warn him about…something. That Ronnie seemed to be leaning toward naming him Mr. Right? She didn’t know that for sure, and Ronnie might change her mind tomorrow. She’d already changed it from the last time they’d talked. That he might be stuck on the show longer than he’d planned? He’d already gotten stuck, and there wasn’t a freakin’ thing either of them could do about it.

  Damn, damn, double damn! None of this was supposed to happen. Ronnie wasn’t supposed to lose her starry-eyed attitude about finding Mr. Right. She wasn’t supposed to throw Billy Joe off the show in a fit of pique. And she wasn’t supposed to think Brendan was boring, even if it was true. And she wasn’t supposed to want Paul Dewitt.

  Neither was Monica.

  But she did. And now, like Ronnie said, it was her problem.

  Paul intended to sleep in, largely because he didn’t have anything in particular he wanted to get up for. He woke up at seven, though, still feeling pissed from the night before.

  He was supposed to be free of this idiotic circus by now. He was supposed to have been cut last night. Hell, he was supposed to have been cut in the first week.

  Of course if he had been c
ut in the first week, he’d never have gotten to know Monica. They’d never have had those two days in Salt Box, and he wouldn’t be sitting here now trying to figure out some way to get together with her away from Glenn and Ronnie.

  All in all, Monica was worth being one of Ronnie’s suitors. Hell, she was worth a lot more than that.

  When his phone rang, he checked the number carefully, screening for Cathe. He’d already ignored several days’ worth of calls from her. The last two had sounded particularly menacing, with a lot of dark threats about future retribution. At least he didn’t have to pretend they were friends anymore.

  When he saw his agent’s number, he connected quickly. “Hi Denny. What’s up?”

  “We’re closing in on El Capitan making a final offer. Just talked to them last night. It’s looking very good.” Denny actually sounded excited for once, maybe because his commission stood to become a lot fatter in the near future.

  Paul let out a whoop. “What now? When do they give you an answer?”

  “They want to talk to you, kid. Some points they have to go over. I need you back here ASAP.”

  “Back in LA? Now?” Paul blew out a breath. “I can make it by the end of the week. Maybe. Can’t you stall them?”

  “Damn it, Paul, do you want this thing or not? If you want this deal with El Capitan to go through, you need to be here tomorrow. It’s make or break time, kid. If you don’t show up, chances are they’ll pass.”

  Paul’s shoulders tightened almost painfully. Shit, shit, shit. “I’ll do what I can, Denny. I’ll see if I can get a flight out of the regional airport today. I’ll call you back in a couple of hours.”

  “Do that, Paulie.” He gave one of his less convincing chuckles. “Just make Miss Dingbat hate your guts, okay? You’ve got to get back here. Now.”

  “There’s an idea. Talk to you later.”

  He tossed the phone on the bed, then stood staring out the window at Elkhorn Mountain. Make Miss Dingbat hate your guts. He wondered if he had time to do that. Up until last night, he’d been relying on Ronnie to understand his relationship with Monica. After last night, he wasn’t sure he could rely on Ronnie for anything.