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“Victoria Lynn.”
THE ONE GOOD thing about having the network already deeply committed to this project was that they had writers on call. And Caro took full advantage, calling and emailing several of them for their immediate assistance.
“You talked to your sister?” she asked Mick as they stood on the back porch of Sophie Winchester’s small house.
He nodded. “She agreed. Have them send you a contract and she’ll sign it.”
Caro drew in a deep, relieved breath. God, she hated having to rely on him, having to ask for his help. One more thing to be under his thumb for. First sex, now the show.
She’d almost been under a lot more than his thumb the other night. Closing her eyes, she shook off the memory. “At least she won’t have time to paint it pea-green,” she mumbled, trying to fill the silence, to make him think she was focused strictly on business when the truth was far from that.
“That’s why you needed to move the location of the shoot here?”
Caro nodded, briefly explaining their troubles with the owner of the downtown apartment, which was originally supposed to be the crime scene. “So,” she said, “I immediately thought of this place. It’s perfect, even though I can’t be inside for more than a few minutes at a time.”
He gave her a worried look, probably noting her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. “Are you going to be all right?”
She nodded. “I’m not inside much, and the Benadryl is helping. And this house is absolutely perfect. Enough light, big enough for a full camera crew. Vacant but still partially furnished. We just need to change the final clues for each team, so they’re led here instead of downtown.”
“That’s where I come in?”
She nodded. “You have to talk to the writers on my cell and give them enough information to make sure a newcomer to town would find this place.”
“Can do,” he said.
He was being extremely accommodating. But was the least he could do, she reminded herself, considering he owed her. Big time. He now officially owed her several nights’ sleep—which he’d ruined. As well as a few damn good orgasms, which he’d silently promised and hadn’t delivered.
Though, she had the feeling neither the sleep nor the orgasms were going to show up in her near future. Not unless she took his suggestion and invested in a dildo. Her own hands hadn’t done the job, and after what he’d done to her Thursday night, there was no way she was ever letting his on her again.
Even though having Mick touch her was about the most perfect thing she’d ever experienced.
The jerk. Just when she’d convinced herself he couldn’t possibly be as good as she remembered, he’d gone and shown her he was better. Oh, Lord, was he better. And that was only just the slow buildup part. She couldn’t begin to imagine what the finale might have been like.
Luckily, before Mick could turn around and ask her why she had such a stupid, lustful look on her face, Charlie and a couple of the other techs stepped out of the bedroom, where they’d been measuring and setting up.
“Hey there, Mr. Winchester,” he said, “be sure to tell your sister how much we appreciate this, okay? She’s a lifesaver.” He turned to Caro. “This place is perfect, much better than the apartment. You still want one stiff in the kitchen and two on the floor in the bedroom?”
She nodded. “Props knows to come here, right?”
Charlie nodded. “And Jacey’s heading here right after the contestants split up into groups of four from the diner.” Charlie snickered. “That is, if they ever split up considering they can’t nail the shot. Seems the chef has decided he’s an opera singer this morning. And the waitress is dressed like one of Charlie’s Angels. And the ladies in the place are acting like they’re eating cucumber sandwiches rather than greasy burgers and fries.”
Mick snorted a laugh. Caro could only sigh.
But that was Renauld’s problem for today. She was too busy putting out this fire to deal with that one. Let him douse the flames at the diner.
JACEY WAS THE first one to see the fire.
Shooting had finally gotten underway, after the extras had been cajoled into changing their clothes, lowering their tea-party pinkies and nearly forgetting they were going to be on television.
Even the owner of the diner, Al, had been persuaded to remove his tux, put on an apron, and stop singing an aria from some Italian opera while he fried up the onion rings. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop him from trying to show off his skill with those onion rings. And that was when the trouble started.
“So how do you like our fair town?” said one of the extras, a guy in a cop uniform who looked like a kid playing dress-up with his father’s clothes. Jacey had already dubbed the two officers—who were inseparable—Thing One and Thing Two. They looked just as alike and caused about as much trouble.
“It’s lovely,” said Ginger, who was, as expected, the first one to take to the camera. Jacey had to hand it to her, twenty pounds or not, Ginger looked pretty good on film.
Not to be outdone, the extremely pompous college professor—Whittington—added, “This country air would inspire the bard to write anotherHamlet.”
Just what the world needs, Jacey thought, remembering her high school Shakespeare.Another play that makes you want to slit your wrists.She kept her camera on Whittington. Something about the guy rang very phony to her. Or else he just creeped her out by being obsessed with a dead writer.
