Pick Me (7 page)

“I just wish he wasn’t holding the purse strings so damn tight. I’ve got some ideas that will bring us into the twenty-first century, but Barrett’s too chicken to take a chance.”

After their dad died, rather than divvy up the lucrative ranch their parents had built, Ruger and Barrett took over. Win was already a Texas Ranger and had no interest in ranching. Colt had no interest either, and had his clientele to worry about. While Remi loved ranch life, she was busy earning her degree in Veterinary Medicine. So he and his siblings took small portions of the sprawling acres to settle on and build their own homes, and looked at the ranch Ruger and Barrett ran as not just an inheritance, but as an investment. One that was proving to be quite profitable.

Colt clapped him on the back as he walked him to the door. “He’ll come around. Don’t get bent out of shape. You two have practically doubled the ranch’s worth since dad died. He’d be proud. I know I am.”

“Aw, shucks.” Ruger grinned and knocked him in the shoulder. God forbid they show any brotherly love. “Let me know how things are going with the show. By the way, what are the other bachelors like?”

The rocker and the blockhead came to mind. He shrugged. “Okay, I suppose. Why?”

“So Valentina said she’d be exclusive to you, which I’m assuming means you two are having sex.”

“Damn it, Ruger, I never said anything—”

Sending him a lopsided grin, Ruger shook his head. “I can always tell when you’re gettin’ some, so don’t deny it. Hell, I’m jealous. Anyhow, I don’t think I’d like the idea of my woman dating two other guys, even if she might be looking at it as a job.”

Now that he thought about it, Colt didn’t like that much, either. “She’s supposed to go out with one of them tomorrow.”

“Find a way to change her mind.”

“I can’t, she’s obligated because of the show. And
Pick Me
has a strict rule, I’m only allowed to see her for
our
dates, which according to the schedule the Production Manger emailed me, is every three days.”

Ruger shoved his hat on his head. “Since when do you obey the rules? Do you know where she lives?”

“Yeah.”

“Why not pay her a visit, ya know, keep you on her mind.”

Colt perked up at the idea, then shook his head in defeat. “I can’t, those horses I rescued are due to be delivered tomorrow afternoon.”

Ruger shrugged. “I’ll take care of it. Just get your ass back to Dallas.”

Wishing he was already there, lying next to Valentina—in a bed—Colt nodded as anticipation ran through his veins. Whether she liked it or not, he’d make sure the only man she’d be thinking about was him.

Chapter 5

Valentina slammed the car door shut, then crossed the parking lot toward the studio. She had no idea why Jonas had ordered her to meet him this morning at the ungodly hour of seven. Not that the early time mattered. After all the fresh air, the target practice, and of course, the way Colt had exerted her body yesterday, she should have slept like the dead. Instead, she’d tossed and turned throughout the night. Guilt had a funny way of doing that to her.

God, how she hated lying, and right now she was lying to everyone. Colt, the other bachelors, even Derek and Jonas, who had coaxed her into this mess in the first place. 

She released a deep sigh as she approached the double-wide, glass doors. Catching her reflection, she cringed. Thank God Goldie promised to stop by the apartment and fix her hair before her date with Trent tonight. Too bad the stylist/make-up artist couldn’t fix the mess Valentina had landed herself in, along with the lies, and her love life. How could she go on a date with Trent, when all she wanted to do was be with Colt? Have sex with Colt, she reminded herself, bound and determined to not confuse orgasms and romance.

She swung open the door to the building that housed KJTQ-TV, the local news station where Derek had leased the studio, flashed her ID and murmured a good morning to the security guard. Winding her way to the back studio, she wondered for the umpteenth time why Jonas wanted to see her—alone. As she approached the stage, light gleamed off of Jonas’ shiny, shaved head.

“Good morning,” she said, and plastered on a smile.

Rather than return the greeting, Jonas leveled her with a calculating glare and motioned for her to follow him.

Her skin prickled with unease. Her steps faltered.
He knows.

Impossible.
She’d never told a soul about Denver. No one had been around then, nor yesterday when she and Colt were in the woods.

Paranoia, that’s what she had a case of. From the guilt...and the lies. 

The mental pep talk did her good until Jonas walked her into the editing room. She eyed the blank screens, then looked at the back of Jonas’ bald head. He might be the director, and she might have a lot at stake, but she was tired, grouchy, and in no mood for whatever game he was playing. “What are we doing here?” she asked, and dropped into a chair.

He turned and raised a dark brow. “You honestly don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.”
Duh.
Okay, so she really shouldn’t mouth off at the director when she was a mere Production Assistant, but hell, he owed her a little respect. She was trying to save the show, and his ass.

Pulling a bag from beneath one of the control panels, he removed the contents. “These are for you,” he said, and handed her two gaudy broaches and an equally tacky necklace with a large charm.

She stared at the jewelry, which were so not her style, and looked as if he’d picked them up at a dollar store—on discount. “Thanks. But you didn’t have to do this.” Really, he didn’t. The stuff was junk. “I appreciate how you and Derek helped make me comfortable in my role as bachelorette. You know, with the apartment, the rental car, the clothes.”

He waved a hand. “Don’t bother with your ass kissing, Val. I don’t like you.”

Stiffening, she clenched the dime store jewelry in her hand. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”

“Watch your tone with me. I can
still
have you fired.”

Oh, that bastard. Even if Derek hadn’t made her the sweet deal with all the perks, she probably would have done the show. Because she cared...about Danny, about the other crew members who could lose their jobs. “Too late, I’d already quit to play your bachelorette, remember? Besides, without me, you wouldn’t have a show.
Or
a job.”

“And if the show is cancelled, neither will you,” he countered, but that’s where he was wrong.

“Really? It’s easier for a Production Assistant with
Pick Me
on her resume to regroup and find another position, rather than a director who’d lost a show because of bad ratings.”

Nodding, he folded his arms across his chest. “You’re right about that, but trust
me
when I tell you that won’t happen. What you’re holding in your hand are cameras.”

She looked down at the ugly broaches and necklace, and frowned. She’d seen advertisements for spy cams in magazines supplied by airlines, but they were usually in the form of a pen. “What am I supposed to do with these?” she asked, while a trickle of dread cramped her stomach. She had a feeling she already knew, but hoped she was wrong.

With a roll of his eyes, Jonas shook his head. “Wear them.”

No kidding.
“Why? The cameras are always around during the dates, and I’ve never seen, or heard of any other past bachelorettes wearing one of these.”

Sending her a smile, that bordered on demented, he approached her and invaded her space. “Because it was never necessary before.”

She leaned back in the chair, trying to put distance between him and his coffee breath. “So why now?”

“I saw the shitty footage from your date yesterday. If this show is going to stay on top, I need you to wear these things.” He nodded to the jewelry biting into her fisted palms. “And give me something to work with. I need ratings, Val. I know the deal Derek gave you, and while I was dead set against it, I had no choice. You’re right, it’s easier for you to find a job than me, but how many producers will be willing to hire you if they see this?”

He shoved away, then hit a switch on one of the editing panels. “Watch screen number two.”

Valentina focused on the screen. Watched it go from black, to gray, to snow before it segued into a still shot...of a near empty parking lot. The image changed to another snowy blur, then refocused, this time, on a man in a cowboy hat and a woman standing against a car. That trickling dread escalated as Jonas hit a few buttons and focused in on the couple.

“Look familiar?” he asked, and rested his rear on the edge of the panel.

Eyes wide, ears buzzing, she ignored Jonas’ taunt and stared at the screen. While the black and white image was grainy, and most people wouldn’t have recognized the embracing couple as her and Colt, she knew. Even now, she could practically feel his hands sliding over her hips, caressing her ass. His firm lips coaxing, teasing, tasting.

Oh God, here comes the bad part.
She’d memorized that night, and knew damn well what was going to happen next. “Turn it off,” she demanded, heat burning her cheeks.

“Why? We’re just getting to the good stuff.” Jonas stared at the screen. “Yeah, this is my favorite part, and I have to say, you’d surprised me. I always thought you were a cold bitch, but with the way you wrapped your legs around that hillbilly cowboy I—”

Spurred by anger and outrage, Valentina dove for the control panel, smashing random buttons with her fists until the screen finally went blank. “You bastard. I...” She turned to the panel, searching for the eject button, found it, pounded the hell out it until the tape was in her hands. “Has anyone else seen this?” she asked, shaking the tape in his face.

“Just me and the security guard who’d been working that night.”

Her pounding heart began to slow to an almost normal rate.

“But I made a copy.”

Cold and clammy fear gripped her from the inside. If Jonas leaked this footage of her and Colt, she could be ruined. Professionally and personally.

While she’d formally resigned as Production Assistant in order to be
Pick Me’s
bachelorette, and was no longer an employee of the production company, her actions, as well as Derek’s and even Jonas’, had bordered on unorthodox. At the time, she’d figured even if
Pick Me
was cancelled, so long as she met her contractual obligations and finished the show, she’d still have a job as Derek’s Assistant Producer. If Derek lost his golden touch, and his other shows started to tank, she
would
have to find another job. Jonas was right, what production company would hire her if they saw this tape?

Then there was her family. Her father, an old school Italian, looked at her “TV stuff” as a passing fancy, that she’d eventually do the right thing. Settle down, find a husband, and push out a bunch of babies. Her brothers had always been supportive, a little over protective, but sympathetic during the many arguments she’d had with her parents over her career choice. But if they saw this, they’d probably send out an APB on her ass, then drag her back to Chicago. Her mom? Oh boy, she’d probably call in a priest for an exorcism. While she loved her mother, she hadn’t quite entered the twenty first century, and pretended the women’s movement had never happened.

Squaring her shoulders and ignoring her wobbly legs, she narrowed her eyes at Jonas. “And what do you plan to do with this so-called other tape?”

“Use it, unless...” He shoved off the panel and approached her. “Unless you wear the cameras I’ve given you.”

“I’ll wear them. Just give me the other tape.”

He held up his hands. “Not so fast. I need it as leverage.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I told you I’d wear your stupid spy cams.”

“Yeah, but I want to make sure you get more of
that
stuff on them,” he said and pointed the blank screen.

“
That
meaning what happened in the parking lot?” Was the man insane? There was no way in hell she’d allow herself to be filmed fooling around with Colt. What she shared with him was private, personal...special. “No way.”

“Well, if you don’t,” he said with a shrug, “I’ll use the tape on the show.”

Her anger toward Jonas intensified. While she wasn’t sure if Colt was truly a sports agent, it didn’t matter. Jonas’ blackmailing tactics—and she figured that’s where he was heading between the tape and the spy cams—would affect Colt as well. He had a big family, lived in a small community, and if he was in fact a sports agent, his career might take some heat for this as well.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Not really, but she’d damn well be sure to tell Derek about his idiot director.

“And if you tell Derek or anyone else about this conversation, I’ll splash the copied tape all over the internet.”

Shit.
“I knew you were an asshole, but I had no idea how much until now,” she said, slipping the tape into her purse.

“Well, I’m about to become a bigger asshole. You obviously like the way that redneck gets your rocks off, but I also want to see some interaction between you and the other bachelors. Hot interaction,” he finished with a wink.

That did it. She swung her purse and knocked Jonas upside the head. “Kiss my ass. I’m not going to play your frickin’ whore. Do you understand me?”

Jonas ran his hand over his bald head, then with a snarl, gripped her shoulders. “Like I said, you either wear the cameras and give me something I can use, or I’ll splash you and Colt all over the internet. Are we clear?”

“Fuck off,” she said, shrugging his hands off her, then moved passed him.

“Fucking is what I want to see. Don’t disappoint me.”

*

Colt let the truck idle at the stop sign on the darkened corner of Valentina’s street, and stared at the bright red tail lights of a white van parked in front of her building. Seconds passed, then the van drove off in the opposite direction. As it turned the next corner, a street light allowed him a brief glimpse of the
Pick Me
logo etched on the side. He released a deep breath. Lucky timing. The last thing he needed was for any of
Pick Me’s
people to see him. If they did, they might start asking questions, find out that he and Valentina had known each other prior to the show, then boot them both. While he wouldn’t mind being booted from the show, he knew how important it was to Valentina. He also knew once the show ended, she’d leave Dallas. He’d rather suffer through this ridiculous dating game for the next four weeks, and share her with the other bachelors, than see her leave earlier than planned.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled into the parking garage across from her apartment. He didn’t want to share, and knowing Valentina had a date with Trent tonight made him jealous. While she’d told him that the only man who would be touching her was him, he still didn’t like the idea of another man spending time with her. What a waste. If she hadn’t been so hell bent on doing the show,
they
could have gone out tonight. Spent some quality time together and maybe actually found a bed this time.

He parked the truck on the second level of the dimly lit parking garage, where he had a perfect view of her apartment. Last night, after Ruger had left, Colt had decided he needed to be in Dallas. He needed to be near Valentina if he was going to find a way to coax her into sticking around after the show ended. Now that he was here, the plan sounded plain dumb. She’d just wrapped up a date with another guy. She had no idea he planned to surprise her tonight. Would she be surprised? Happy? Pissed? Maybe he should have picked up some flowers or something. Hell, maybe he should have at least come up with a legitimate excuse to see her. A good excuse might soften her attitude—if she gave him one.