on the corner,” she said. He turned back and watched as she grabbed a tiny laptop and several piles of papers and magazines, and shoved them into that big brown bag she carried. “But no taping. This is just you and me, getting to know each other. I’ll take notes, though. I have a lot of background questions.”
“Ask away,” he said through a smile. That way, he could stare across the table at her without looking too obvious.
When she breezed by, a hint of something exotic and spicy filled his nostrils. Then he watched her retreat, enjoying the way her jeans curved around her feminine body.
Nice.
And since when did he not notice a woman’s posterior?
But this woman had something he couldn’t quite figure out.
She wants you.
Yep, but she wants you for a different reason than all the rest. She wants you as a means to an end. She’s using you so her show will stay on the air a little longer. Nothing personal.
And that was the thing that just might drive him crazy.
* * *
THE SANDWICH SHOP did a chaotic dance of lunch-hour service, the spicy scents coming from the kitchen making Victoria’s stomach growl. But she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat a bite with Clint sitting across from her.
Already, the downtown women were giving him the eye.
And already, she was remembering why she didn’t want to be here with him.
What have I signed on for? she thought. Why did I jump at this chance when Samuel presented it? I should have declined and found someone else, someone better suited for the show.
But who could be better suited for a down-and-dirty reality show than the man sitting across from her?
“So, what’s good here?” he asked, completely oblivious to her inner turmoil. “The steak sandwich sounds great but so does the tamale pie.”
Victoria shut down her jittery nerves and pretended to read over the menu. “I love the tamale pie.”
“Then pie it is,” he said, grinning over at her. “I’m not hard to please.”
She stared at him for a minute before responding. A minute that only reminded her of all the reasons she shouldn’t be here with him. “Why did you ask me to lunch?”
Surprised at her blunt question, he drew back. “Do I have to have a reason?”
“I’d think you have a reason for every step you take.”
He put down his menu and braced one arm on the back of his chair. “You really don’t like me very much, do you?”
Wishing she’d been a little nicer, she shrugged. “It’s not really my job to like you. It’s my job to make sure you and I can work together to put on a good show.”
He nodded, drank some of his water. “And that’s what this is about—putting on a good show.”
“Yes,” she said, the snark still lurking in her words. “And I believe you’re very good at that.”
“Whoa.” He sat up and leaned his elbows on the table. “You’re sure prickly today. Having second thoughts, Victoria? If you don’t like me, why do you want to work with me?”
“I just told you,” she said, sweat beading on her backbone. She did not want to have this conversation. “Anything I do from here on out is strictly for the show, Clint. I have to make it work.”
“And that’s always your first priority? Making the show work?”
“Yes. It has to be. It’s my job.”
“Right.” He leaned back and motioned for the waitress. “Get that camera out and watch and learn, sweetheart.”
Victoria watched, fascinated, as his frown turned into a brilliant, inviting smile. A smile aimed at the pretty waitress and not her. “Hey there, darlin’. I think we’re about ready to order up. I heard from a slightly reliable source that your tamale pie is delicious.”
His eyes moved down the girl’s trim figure then roved back up to her face. “Nice service around here.”
Victoria wanted to bolt out of the sandwich shop. She knew these people, talked to them every day. Now this show-off was milking it for all it was worth.
“The tamale pie is one of our favorite dishes,” the college student replied. Her giggly smile merged with her blushing cheekbones.
“Well, I can’t wait to sample me some of that.”
“And you?” The girl didn’t even bother to look at Victoria.
“I’ll have the...chicken salad sandwich.” And a slice of humble pie.
Clint winked at the waitress then waited for the enamored woman to leave before turning back to Victoria. “What? You didn’t tape me putting on a show?”
She gritted her teeth. “I’d have to get that college student to sign a release. We can’t put everyone you meet in the show.”
He reached a hand up to play with the fresh daisy in the tiny vase between them. “Well, then, you’d better bring a whole stack of those forms ’cause once ol’ Clint gets started, there sure ain’t no stopping him. I intend to make the most of being overexposed to the entire universe.”
“Not quite the entire universe,” Victoria countered, her pulse tripping over puddles of dread. “But most of the six million or so people in the Metroplex and surrounding areas.”
“Do they all watch your show?”
“Not yet, but together we can change that.”
He winked at her, too. “That’ll get us started then.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE FIRST DAY of production was always busy, stressful and chaotic. Usually Victoria loved starting a new project but today her stress level weighed on her like the state of Texas, big and vast and ever-changing.
“Nancy, where’s my—”
“Hot-sheet?” Nancy, punk-rock, red spiked hair and black fingernails aside, was an ace assistant. “Right here, boss.”
Nancy handed Victoria her notes on the day’s production schedule, along with her clipboard and her cup of strong coffee. “Why are you so jittery today?”
Victoria shot a glance at Clint. “I should have never agreed to this.”
Nancy giggled. “You mean because of your history with him?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a history,” Victoria said on a whisper. Wishing she’d never mentioned having kissed Clint long ago she put a finger to her lips. “We can’t talk about that.
