It wasexactlywhat I wanted to hear.
And that terrifies me.
CHAPTER 23
Julia
Emmett
Hey, are you around today?
Emmett
What about today? I need to talk to you about the bar.
Emmett
Jules. Stop avoiding me.
“Honestly, Julia, you can’t just go rogue like this. It’s unprofessional,” Richard scolds me.
My mouth gapes as I stare back at him, his harsh delivery rendering me speechless. But more than that, I am just plain confused by the fact that Emmett has changed his answer regarding which bar we should film at.
I’ve been ignoring Emmett’s texts in the name of professionalism—we have nothing to talk about. We almost got busted out together and that was enough to scare me straight.
But today he’s going to get a fucking earful of unprofessionalism. Because I have things to say.
If his wishy-washy bullshit costs me that reference, I’ll kill him before he gets to pick a wife.
Dick Wad sits at his desk in the utility trailer, shuffling paper. He isn’t furious, but he’s definitely talking to me like I’m an idiot. Sunlight streams through the open door, highlighting his coiffed hair and pale eyes.
All I know is that I don’t want to be added to his blacklist.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, or are you just going to stand there gaping at me?”
I snap my mouth shut. “Sorry, I just… this was the bar that…”
Emmett took me to?
How do I explain this to my boss without getting one of us in trouble? Because as much as Emmett’s deer-in-the-headlights reaction to my confession on that ancient dance floor after a couple sips of liquor rankles me, I don’t want to get him in trouble with the boss.
There’s too much on the line for him and his family, and I can’t let my pride get in the way of that.
I straighten and stare back at the older man, refusing tocower. “You told me to find a good country bar. Someone recommended it to me.”
“Well, how about more due diligence next time? When I showed Emmett the pitch for this scene, he said he’d never take the girls there. It looks like a fucking dive. And I need Casanova on board because he’s proving to be a frigid pain in my ass.”
My molars clamp together as I let myself daydream about pushing Emmett down the slopes of Prickle Point.
Because why the hell is he changing his pick for a bar and throwing me under the bus like this?
“Yes, sir, of course. I apologize.” I bite the words out, but Richard doesn’t seem to notice or care about the edge to my tone. He’s too busy… filing his nails?
My nose wrinkles as I realize the file is what he was looking for among the sheets on his desk. Fine white powder scatters over the papers, and I cringe.
The guy has no fucking boundaries.
“Good. Now you can put all that fancy education to use today and fix this. I want to record at The Ranch on Saturday for the elimination ceremony. It looks like the perfect place to give viewers a taste of country life with our bull rider playboy.”
