Crapshitdamn. Walter had probably seen Vance’s Twitter account and wondered what his precious daughter was doing with an alleged porn star. Vance closed his eyes and massaged his forehead, which had started to pound.
“…I understand she thinks your home and property would be perfect for the new miniseries we’re going to be producing. I’ve seen the pictures Katie emailed, and—”
“I was planning to sign that contract tonight, sir. Just been a little busy—”
“That’s exactly what I don’t want you to do.”
“Excuse me?”
“Vance, I’m a big fan of your writing. Big fan. As are my two sons. I want to turn your books into blockbusters, but I’m going to need a little cooperation on your part in order for this deal to happen.” Vance couldn’t see Walter, but he imagined him relaxing in a huge, black leather executive chair with a cigar clamped between his lips, stroking his cuddly pet Burmese python curled on his desk.
Vance hesitated. “Uh, okay?”
“You’re an intelligent man, and I’m confident I won’t need to spell this out…”
Vance had never been trapped in a foxhole with artillery blasting around his head, but he’d watched plenty of videos and listened to hundreds of war stories, and right now he’d take a war-torn foxhole over this conversation with Walter McKnight any day of the week.
“…do not sign the contract. Your property doesn’t interest me. I’ve already placed a top-notch scout in Wilmington, and he’s found the right kind of home for this show.”
“But Katie—”
“Katie’s inexperienced and clueless. Just between you and me, she’s all wrong for this job. Truth of the matter…she hasn’t been right for any job I’ve given her the last two years. What Katie needs…”
What Katie needed was to get out from under Daddy’s protective wing. After two years of job bouncing, shouldn’t she be looking for another place to work?
“…stall, ask questions, demand amendments, but don’t sign anything. String Katie along as if you’re going to sign it,” Walter ordered.
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”
“Katie’s no longer working on this project. She’s been replaced, but she doesn’t know it, and I’d like to keep it that way for now.”
What the hell? “For how long?”
“However long it takes for me to sew this deal up in Wilmington and create something else for Katie to do. Unfortunately, Katie’s not qualified for much. Education major… Jesus.” Walter snorted. “She didn’t listen to me when I told her what to study in college, and she refuses to go back to graduate school. She flounders with no direction and no talent.”
The exasperation Vance detected from Walter’s voice was suddenly beginning to piss him off. Outrage percolated inside him over Walter’s dismissal of Katie, as if she meant nothing and her work meant nothing. The same feeling of rage he used to get when his own dad treated him with disapproval and an iron fist. As a young teenager, Vance had no interest in the military, and his father had no interest in him. Vance was getting that same sick vibe from Walter McKnight regarding his daughter. It seemed Walter had no faith in Katie. He wanted to throw her under the bus, and he wanted Vance to help push her. One giant step into hell.
“Let me see if I understand…you want me to keep your daughter busy with a job and a location she no longer has for however long you tell me, and if I don’t, we don’t make movies together. Does that about sum it up?”
“Fine, intelligent mind you got there,” Walter said.
The irony of all this was not lost on Vance. Walter was handing him precisely what he wanted. A babysitter for the kids. His home and grounds undisturbed.
And…Katie.
He felt like he’d won the lottery. Except these winnings came with a steep price: deceiving and hurting someone Vance cared about…a lot. Yeah, he barely knew her, and yet it felt like he’d known her all his life. He could probably use a good shrink. But his gut and heart both weighed in on this one…he’d be wise to listen. And if Walter McKnight wanted Vance’s help in selling out his daughter, then Vance wanted to be compensated…on his terms. Because this could potentially blow up in his face like a hand-tossed grenade, and Vance would lose Katie forever.
“I’m glad you think so. Now, I have a condition of my own.”
“Sure you do.” Walter gave a gruff chuckle. “You want Gerard Butler to play the leading man.”
“More important than that—”
“Don’t underestimate the importance of the right leading man,” Walter informed him.
“I’ll leave that up to you and the casting experts.” Vance paused. “I want approval rights on the screenplay.” He could hear Walter suck in a surprised breath.
Coughing and clearing his throat, Walter said, “That’s not the way we roll around here, Kerner. I’ve got a talented team that will be working on your screenplay…if we come to terms.”
At this point, Vance didn’t give two shits if his books ever saw the inside of a Hollywood studio. Hollywood could kiss his ass. “Them’s my terms. You want me to keep your daughter busy by pretending I’m going along with this location, keep quiet about your other deal, and not let on she’s getting fired. For an undetermined amount of time.” Vance gave a harsh laugh. “That’s a lot. You don’t even know if I have the acting skills to pull it off. All I’m asking is to read over a few lines. We both know damn well that I can read and I can write.”
“You know, Kerner, I don’t have to agree to anything, including signing a deal for your books,” Walter growled through the phone.
“That would be fine too. I’ll make sure Katie hits the road tonight, heading west.” During the awkward silence, Vance could practically hear the wheels turning inside Walter McKnight’s calculating head.
“She is not to know we spoke.” His voice was harsh. “I don’t want her finding out I’ve gone behind her back. Do you understand?”
That you’re a prick? You bet. “Perfectly. Do we have a deal?”
After several beats, Walter exhaled. “Yes, Kerner. We have a deal.”
“Good. May I ask a question?”
“What now? You want to be the new host of the Tonight Show?”
“Nah, Jimmy Fallon can have it. Why all the subterfuge? Why don’t you tell Katie the truth? She seems pretty levelheaded to me.” Except when spreading rumors about him and porn.
“Look, Katie begged for this position. She has no qualifications and no experience”—Vance wondered how hard could it be? You drove around and looked for houses—“so she needs to be guided. Katie’s a wanderer. Her mother and I will come up with something to keep her busy.”
Vance didn’t like the sound of their plan any better than the one he’d just sold his soul for. Or any better than when his dad would give him an ultimatum. And the idea of hurting Katie ate the lining of his stomach worse than Mr. Beam sitting next to his computer.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Vance lied.
“Now, I’m going to leave the contract details to our brokers. And, Kerner…you better pray you can act.”
* * *
“I’ve made you a plate,” Katie said, pouring a second glass of wine with a shaky hand. On the kitchen table, a plate of pasta and side salad waited for Vance, right next to the McKnight Studios’ folder with the contract tucked inside. It was after nine, and Vance had come down from putting the kids to bed, wearing a black look that promised revenge. She got it…and hugged the kitchen sink.
She took a drink with an unsteady hand. She didn’t fear him. Well, maybe a little. His bark was bigger than his bite—she hoped. Inslee had texted pithy comments earlier to boost her courage. Besides, technically, Katie hadn’t started the porn rumor. She may have fanned the flames with those brothers, who could star on the next Duck Dynasty, but it hadn’t taken much—one word in this town
could spark a blazing California wildfire.
“What’s this?” he asked, dropping into a seat and picking up his fork.
“Homemade spaghetti and salad.”
“I meant the folder.” He forked spaghetti into his mouth and chewed. “Quit cowering like a frightened squirrel. Come sit down. I’m not going to bite you.” His evil smile said otherwise.
Katie bolstered her courage and pulled the chair out opposite him. “It’s the contract from McKnight Studios, waiting for your signature. The one you promised to sign,” she said to his impassive face. Vance flipped the folder open and read the first page. “There’re probably a few things you’ll want to change—”
He flipped the folder closed. “I’m meeting with my attorneys tomorrow. They’ll take a look. Probably more than a few things will need to be changed,” he said to his dinner plate, never meeting her eyes.
On alert, Katie sat forward. “Really? You’re going to meet with your attorneys? You’re not swooping me…or trying to get back at me for, you know…today?”
Vance finished another bite and leaned back in his chair. He twirled his glass of wine between his long fingers, and Katie’s insides twirled right along with the wine. She feared the unknown more than the punishment itself. “Whatever you’re going to do to me, do it. I can’t take the suspense anymore. I know you’re plotting something.”
Vance’s eyebrows rose. “Why, K-K-Katie, whatever are you referring to?”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned, you know, the whole porn thing.” His eyes got scary dark, and Katie hurried to explain. “But I swear I didn’t start the rumor. Somehow porn came up in conversation at the Dog and then…zing! It took off like a greyhound at the races. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m not kidding. I think Dottie Duncan started it, and then the whole conversation got twisted around. People in this town sure take an interest in your life. And I’ve never seen so many people with different, er, talents?” she said, referring to the myriad entertainers she’d suffered through that afternoon.
“Talent might be a stretch. Folks from Harmony are more suited for never-seen-before reality TV. Some of them make that Honey Boo Boo show look downright civilized. Just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of their craziness, there’s an entire crazy underground garage.” Katie’s wine went down the wrong pipe as she half choked/half laughed. Vance continued, “You could have a whole show about who’s got chiggers or who’s your daddy, or in the Clancy brothers’ case, ‘Name Them Droppings.’”
Eyes watering, Katie laughed, and Vance joined along. After what she’d witnessed today, she couldn’t agree more. Katie had watched some old guy in bib overalls and a John Deere cap play the spoons, and the Happy Hookers even performed a geriatric rendition of “YMCA” with walkers and all.
“You think they’ll be back tomorrow?” she asked, fearing the answer.
“No doubt. We’ve been a little slow on entertainment this spring. The Downtown Get Down festival is coming up this summer, but nothing will beat a TV show about vampires and zombies filmed in their own backyard.”
Katie nodded, thinking she wouldn’t be here to see Harmony in full festival mode. She imagined colorful tents, local music, and festival food, and even some country baking or homegrown veggie contests. She smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be overproduced or overbudgeted. And there wouldn’t be a red carpet for miles. Or starlets wearing skintight, overpriced designer dresses or borrowed jewelry that came with matching armed guards, like so many events in Hollywood.
“It was entertaining, I have to admit, and the kids loved it. Donald and Dover played football with a painting crew that showed up this afternoon. And Danny squealed and clapped every time some old man played the spoons.” Katie had gotten some great candid shots of the kids and the townspeople of Harmony. She couldn’t wait to play around with the images on her computer. She planned to make prints for the kids to take back to their mom. “Speaking of the kids, I had to bathe Pixie again, because they found a bucket of paint in the shed and decided she’d looked better in yellow.”
“I thought I’d locked the shed door.”
“You did. Apparently Donald has become quite the locksmith.”
“Did you put them in boot camp?” Vance smiled around another bite.
“I did indeed. Those boys are going to have muscles by the time I’m finished with them. And poor Dana Sue is going to lose all her hair if I have to wash it three times a day.” Katie remembered her ruined pair of shorts and figured she’d have to stop by The Kitchen Sink for some work clothes and shoes. At this rate, the new, exciting, younger wardrobe she’d ordered would be destroyed.
Vance pushed his plate away and refilled his glass of wine. Katie waved off his offer to refill hers. “I’m good. Still need to call my dad. He likes the pictures I’ve sent so far, but he wants to see more. I took pictures of the interiors today and will email those tonight.”
Vance carried his dishes to the sink. Rinsing and putting them in the dishwasher, he asked, “How long have you worked for your dad as a location scout?”
“One month. This was my first real assignment. Before that, I worked as Production Runner, Production Assistant, and Boom Operator. Stunk at all of them, but I’m much better at Location Scout.” Not really. But Katie loved being on the road and away from home. Away from the watchful, judgmental eyes of her parents. Away from the 24-7 surveillance.
Vance crossed his legs at the ankles and leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest. “What do you like about it? Besides the obvious…babysitting rug rats and living with…me.” His gaze flared, turning hot.
Wicked. The man was perfectly wicked. Heart thumping, Katie gulped the remainder of her wine, allowing the rustic, earthy tones to coat her throat. She didn’t trust him. He wore that dangerous look that could either melt the most arctic heart or scare the pants right off you. With him…probably both. She knew her punishment still hung in the balance.
“What excites you about this particular job?” he asked again in his deep, honey-coated drawl.
Escaping. Being on her own. “Traveling to different places and meeting new people. Before working for my dad, I taught for five years in the public school system. It was challenging, but eventually my dad convinced me to give it up.”
By the end of the day, Katie’s brain would be fried from teaching fifth graders who couldn’t read or write. And her dad would seize every opportunity to point out how rough she had it, always badgering her to come work for him.
Katie squirmed under Vance’s scrutiny, feeling he saw way more than he revealed. “Actually, I love photographing the places I’ve been. Some people write in journals. I take pictures.” She tried putting a positive spin on what had become her dull life.
“Show me.”
Katie blinked. No one had ever shown an interest in her photos. Wait, that wasn’t fair. Inslee loved her photos and encouraged her photography.
“It’s just a hobby. I’m no professional.” She skirted around him to put away her wineglass. “You have more important things to do besides look at photos…like finish your book and sign my contract.” She chewed her lower lip at his unreadable expression.
Vance pointed at her face. “Your eyebrow’s twitching.” Katie slapped a hand over her left brow. “What’s the deal with that? Do I make you nervous, cupcake?”
Uh-oh. That look coupled with that voice—Katie backed up, and Vance stalked her.
One hand covering her brow and the other outstretched to ward him off, she said, “Just because I’m around doesn’t mean I’m available. Go visit one of your girlfriends, like your special friend who insulted me and wanted to make me over. What was her name? Carolina Cougar?”
Vance lunged and snagged her wrist, pulling her against his chest, his arm banded around he
r waist. “You jealous, Kat?” he murmured near her ear.
She scoffed. “Hardly. I was surprised by her lack of Southern manners, that’s all.” Vance’s breathing tickled her neck. Her brain scrambled, and her heart flipped. His mere breath had her shuddering, and she already knew his potent kisses could enslave her. “Come on, cupcake. Tell me how much you want me,” he whispered against her heated flesh.
Katie’s eyes rolled back into her head as Vance nibbled on her throat and along her jaw. His five-o’clock shadow rasped against her sensitive skin. Her head tilted on its own accord to allow him better access.
“Katie love, tell me…tell me what you want.” He breathed against her hot throat.
You. In the bed. On the table—“Stop.” Katie pushed away her dangerous thoughts. Vance’s arms dropped, and his head lifted. “Nothing’s changed. You’re still a rake, chasing anything in a skirt.”
He lifted one brow. “Rake? Is that word still current?”
Katie shrugged. “Sometimes. Or if you prefer man-ho, man-whore, man-slut—”
Vance drew back as if she’d slapped him. “Got the message. Now, I’m insulted. You don’t know anything about my past except what you’ve heard around town. Didn’t you learn a valuable lesson today on how unreliable those stories can be?” Vance leveled her with a pirate’s glare and splayed his hands on his hips. “I’m not denying who I am or what I want. Right now, I want you. I’ve wanted you since the minute I laid eyes on you. The question is…what are you going to do about it?”
Katie sputtered, at a loss for words. She’d angered him, which had never been her intent. Confused and insecure, she couldn’t come right out and tell him she wanted him back. She’d never been that bold. The very thought scared her senseless. She’d always second-guessed what she wanted in life, letting her nerves rule and her parents’ voices in her head beat her down. She’d always been a coward. Always.
Face hot, Katie confronted Vance and her inner turmoil. “It’s not that easy for me. I can’t… come out and say…my boyfriend, er…he’ll be back, and then what’ll I do? Don’t I owe—”
Sweet Southern Bad Boy Page 14