she was interested and if it was something she could actually handle.
Brenna.
Did he have any other prospects for this?
Hell, no.
He had less than three hours to find someone. At this point, it was pretty much Brenna or bust.
By then, he was already opening the door to the beauty shop. A bell tinkled overhead as he went in.
Brenna was standing right there, behind the reception counter with the cash register on it, facing the door. She looked kind of surprised at the sight of him.
Before either of them could say anything, the owner, Bee, spotted him. “Travis Dalton!” She waved at him with the giant blow-dryer in her left hand. “What do you know? It’s our local celebrity.”
Every woman in the shop turned to stare at him. He took off his hat and put on his best smile. “Not a celebrity yet, Bee. Ladies, how you doing?”
A chorus of greetings followed. He nodded and kept right on smiling.
Bee asked, “What can we do for you, darlin’?”
He thought fast. “The big final audition’s tomorrow night.”
“So we heard.”
“Figured I could maybe use a haircut—just a trim.” He hooked his hat on the rack by the door. “So, Brenna, you available?”
Brenna’s blue eyes met his. “You’re in luck. I’ve got an hour before my next appointment.” She came out from behind the counter, looking smart and sassy in snug jeans, ankle boots and a silky red shirt. Red worked for her. Matched her hair, which used to be a riot of springy curls way back when. Now she wore it straight and smooth, a waterfall of fire to just below her shoulders.
She waited until he’d hung up his denim jacket next to his hat then led him to her station. “Have a seat.”
He dropped into the padded swivel chair and faced his own image in the mirror.
Brenna put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in. He got a whiff of her perfume. Nice. She caught his eye in the mirror and then ran her fingers up into his hair, her touch light, professional. “This looks pretty good.”
It should. He’d paid a lot to a Hollywood stylist right before that first audition two weeks ago. “I was thinking just a trim.”
She stood back, nodding, a dimple tucking into her velvety cheek as she smiled. “Well, all right. You want a shampoo first?”
What he wanted was to talk to her alone. He cast a glance to either side and lowered his voice. “Say, Brenna...”
She knew instantly that he was up to something. He could tell by the slight narrowing of her eyes and the way the bow of her upper lip flattened just a little. And then she leaned in again and whispered, “What’s going on?”
He went for it. “I was wondering if I could talk to you in private.”
Her sleek red-brown eyebrows drew together. “Right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
He cast a quick glance around and spotted the hallway that led to the parking area in back. “Outside?”
She folded her arms across her chest and tipped her head to the side. “Sure. Go on out back. I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks.” He got right up and headed for the back door, not even pausing to collect his jacket and hat. It wasn’t that cold out, and he could get them later.
“What’s going on?” Bee asked as he strode past her station.
Brenna answered for him. “Travis and I need to talk.”
Somebody giggled.
Somebody else said, “Oh, I’ll just bet you do.”
Travis kept walking. It was okay with him if everyone at the beauty shop assumed he was finally making a move on Brenna—because he was.
Just not exactly in the way that they thought.
Outside, he looked for a secluded spot and settled on the three-walled nook where Bee stored her Dumpster. It didn’t smell too bad, and the walls would give them privacy.
He heard the back door open again and stuck his head out to watch Brenna emerge. “Psst.”
She spotted him and laughed. “Travis, what is this?”
He waved her forward. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”
For that he got an eye roll, but she did hustle on over to the enclosure. “All right, I’m here. Now what is it?”
He had no idea where to even start. “I...I have a proposal.”
Her eyelashes swept down and then back up again. “Excuse me?”
“This... What I’m about to say. I need your solemn word you won’t tell a soul about any of it, or I’ll get sued for breach of contract. Understand?”
“Not really.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “But okay. I’m game. I won’t tell a soul. You have my sworn word on that.” She hooked her pinkie at him. He gave it a blank look. “Pinkie promise, Trav. You know that is the most solemn of promises and can never be broken.”
“What are we, twelve?”
She made a little snorting sound. “Oh, come on.”
He gave in and hooked his pinkie with hers. “Satisfied?”
“Are you? Because that is the question.” She laughed, a sweet, musical sound, and tightened her pinkie against his briefly before letting go.
“As long as you promise me.”
“Travis. I promise. I will tell no one, no matter what happens. Now what is going on?”
“How’d you like to be on The Great Roundup?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “What? How? You’re making no sense.”
“Just listen, okay? Just give me a chance. I...well, I really thought I had it, you know? I thought I was on the show. But it turns out they want a young couple. A young, engaged couple. And the casting director sort of asked me if there was anyone special back home and I sort of said yes. And then, all of a sudden, they tell me there’s one final audition, that it will be at the Ace and I should bring my fiancée.”
Brenna’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “You told them you were engaged?”
“No, I didn’t tell them that. They assumed it. And now I need a fake fiancée, okay? I need someone who doesn’t mind putting herself out there, if you know what I mean. Someone who’s not going to be afraid to speak up and hold her head high when
