That Wild Cowboy

“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. He doesn’t even remember and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Nancy pushed a bejeweled hand through all that red hair and grinned. “My lips are sealed. But I think it’s sweet.”

“Right, sweet like those chewy little candy things that eventually break your teeth.”

Nancy frowned and went about her work, while Victoria sweated in the early morning Texas sun. Taking a deep breath, she shook off her trepidation and decided to get on with her job.

Clint sat in a corner reading over the list she’d given him earlier. She’d decided to frame this segment out by the pool and she’d asked Clint to invite some friends over. His sisters and his niece were supposed to be out of the house and Bitsy had elected to keep to the old farmhouse for the next couple of days. So Clint should be relaxed enough to get into the groove and forget the cameras were even there. She hoped.

Gearing up, Victoria walked around the lighting and camera crew and stepped over cords. She hopped around the main camera operator, who’d be in charge of the B-roll—the head shots and any extra footage they would try to work in today.

Clint looked up as she approached, his eyes moving from her face to her toes in a way that left her feeling stripped and vulnerable, but also warm and...tempted.

“So you want me to just forget about all these people milling around and be me?” he asked, his expression showing signs of fear.

Victoria had to smile at that. The man was big, strong and brawny, and yet he was camera-shy. It was her job to calm him down and get his mind off the cameras. “Yes. Be you, Clint. Entertain your guests and have the kind of party you’d have if we weren’t here.”

“Really?” He gave her a wink. “Some of that might not be suitable for prime-time television, darlin’.”

Victoria’s whole being buzzed like a bee to a flower. But she reminded herself this big bee could sting. “Keep it clean. Keep it real. Keep it going. That’s what my boss always says.”

She did one more visual of the entire pool area. “We want fun, and calamities and honest personal conflicts, but we’ve always been proud that we don’t have to bleep out words or edit too heavily. We do warn parents to keep their young children out of the room, especially when we’re doing party segments.”

“Cowboys and shindigs just go hand in hand, don’t they?”

She nodded. “It seems that way, yes. That’s what our show is all about—highlighting the rich and the spoiled and the bigger-than-Texas attitude.”

“You know most working cowboys don’t have the luxury of a swimming pool or a party every night, though, right?”

“Yes, that’s why I put the emphasis on the rich part.”

Clint gave her a hard glance then pulled out that charming smile. “I’m not all that rich so I hope I don’t disappoint.”

Victoria knew better. The man wasn’t hurting, not one bit. She’d verified that with several reliable sources, but the rumors that he was losing everything only fueled the hard-to-put-out fire. And made Victoria want to figure him out even more.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked.