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“I’ll say,” he muttered. God, he hated ‘reality’ TV. Even when it had first hit the airwaves he hadn’t bought into the crazy phenomenon. The thought of contributing to such a phony production repulsed him. He’d worked damn hard to build a quality reputation after his one career blunder. His involvement with JANE MILLIONAIRE could revive old media clips of his one and only failure. He might never recover a second time.
But JP had believed in him when he’d been a greenhorn from East L.A. itching to make a name for himself, had believed in him even after his show flopped thanks to the antics of his ex-wife. Without JP, the doorway leading down Hollywood’s golden path might never have opened a first, or second, time.
Only JP could have talked him into this reality sham.
“She’ll get the works over the next couple of days. Then we’ll go over the agenda for the show, what our expectations are, and brainstorm on what she’d like to see the men go through to prove themselves.” Oblivious to Rob’s inner turmoil, JP’s voice grew louder with each word. “She’s fully trained in martial arts, holds a black belt. It might be interesting to let her duke it out with the guys.”
“Should work.” Suspicion snaked through Rob as JP shifted in his chair for the third time. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“You always could read me like a book.” JP’s laugh bordered on nervous.
Rob didn’t smile as he waited. Whatever JP had to say, experience said Rob wasn’t going to like it.
“Last night when I met with the WOLF rep, I mentioned the series you were writing. Your name alone had him salivating. I gave him a copy of the script.”
Rob cursed. He’d been playing around, toying with an idea for a new primetime series. He planned to write, direct, and produce the show. What he’d wanted to do from the beginning but a pricy mistake via the help of his ex-wife had kept him on a narrower path. On a whim, he’d asked J.P. to look over the script. GAMBLER wasn’t ready to pitch to a major network. JP shouldn’t have taken the liberty.
“He called. If we pull off JANE MILLIONAIRE, they’ll give GAMBLER a primetime slot.”
“You’re kidding.” He had to be. A primetime slot. Rob’s heart threatened to explode.
“No. They loved the idea. All we have to do is make Jane a success.”
“Just what kind of success are they looking for?”
“At least twenty mil in the 18 to 49 adult viewer range.”
Rob whistled. “Not asking for much, are they?”
“If we hit over twenty, you get complete creative control over G
ambler, and they’ve promised me a Tuesday night sitcom, and a sizable bonus for both of us.” JP mentioned a figure that had Rob whistling a second time as he shook his head.
“Twenty million plus viewers?”
“You’ve seen Jane. Viewers are going to love her. She’s tough, yet has an innate vulnerability in her eyes. She’s classy, yet not afraid to get dirty.” JP stood and walked to French doors leading to a private balcony. “She’s the ticket to my staying out of the retirement home for has-been producers and your shot for Gambler. How many of our colleagues would kill for this chance?”
“Every single one,” Rob conceded.
“We have to hit twenty mil.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Rob muttered, knowing the answer, yet unable to contain that very male part of him that didn’t like what JP’s response was going to be.
“We have to make sure Jane falls in love with one of the bachelors, all of America falls in love with both of them, and we give our viewers the fairytale romance of a lifetime.”
Chapter Two
Jill cringed at every creak of the floor. How was she supposed to sneak around an eerily quiet castle in the middle of the night when the floors moaned and groaned with each step she took? Jeez, it was a wonder she’d ever made it to the studio without waking up the entire crew.
She’d picked the studio’s lock and searched without success. Ugh. She had to find a copy of Jessie’s interviews. It would make life so much easier if she knew what her sister actually said while auditioning for this part.
Another step. Another creak. Another cringe.
Had she made that last creak? Tiny hairs prickled along her neck. Man, if she didn’t know better she’d think this place was haunted. Where was her Glock when she needed it? Not that her gun would do much damage to a ghost.
She was almost to her room. Only a few more steps, creaks and cringes and she’d--A hand covered her mouth.
Oh my God! Adrenaline coursed through her. She cocked her elbow to nail her ghostly assailant at the same time as Rob whispered in her ear.
