Falling Fast (6 page)

Playing her feminine role to the hilt, she sat back in her chair, uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. Staring off in the distance she envisioned something that filled her with longing - a pepperoni and sausage pizza – then closed her eyes and licked her lips. Reopening her eyes, she leaned forward slightly to give the camera a good shot of cleavage.

In a husky voice she said, “You bet I would.”

When they stood up to shake her hand at the end of the interview, Alexa saw the undeniable proof of her sexual prowess in the front of their pants. She had given an Oscar-worthy performance.

Alexa prayed that Mr. Right was going to be as much of a sucker as everyone else.

“So that’s why I need you to take over for the next few weeks,” Brandon said to Jon Montgomery, his best friend and Senior VP of Sales at the Idea Factory.

Jon whistled softly between his teeth and shook his head. “Frankly, man, I’m having a hard time believing that you actually signed on for something like this.”

Brandon grimaced. “No kidding. I’m having a hard time believing it myself.”

In an obvious effort to cheer him up, Jon smiled and said, “At least they’re going to set you up with a bunch of good looking ladies, right?”

Brandon stared blankly at Jon, thinking about the woman who had been haunting his dreams for days.

“It’s just that I met this woman...” He let his words drift off. Jon was not the person he needed to discuss this with. He grabbed his jacket. It was time for a long overdue discussion with his mother about the birds and bees.

“I never heard about any girl,” Jon probed, following closely on Brandon’s heels.

Sidestepping his friend’s question, Brandon got into the elevator. “You’re acting CEO

while I’m gone.”

Brandon got into his car and forty-five minutes later he was turning down an oak-shaded lane and parked his hunter green Ford Expedition in the driveway of a yellow 1950s ranch style house. His mother, Elaine, popped her head out of the front door.

“What a wonderful surprise!” she said, heading towards him with her arms held out wide for a hug.

For a moment, in his mother’s arms, Brandon could pretend he was a kid again. He could let himself imagine a perfect world where everything was going to be all right. But he knew that this time, things weren’t going to be quite so simple.

He picked several vibrant threads off of his wool pants. “Quilting again?”

Elaine laughed. “Do I ever do anything else?” Linking her arm in his, she said, “Come on inside and I’ll make us something hot to drink.”

They stepped inside and headed for the kitchen. Brandon tried to let the comfort and warmth of his childhood house seep in, but he was too wound up.

As they passed his mother’s sewing room he said, “Business is good?”

With a knowing glance, Elaine said, “I have more custom quilt orders to make than I’ll ever get to in one lifetime, but somehow I doubt you’re here to talk about me, are you?

Pulling out one of the kitchen stools, Brandon slumped down on it. “I’ve really got myself in a mess this time, mom,” he admitted as he ran his hand through his hair.

“What can I do to help?” his mother said, her maternal instincts rushing to the surface.

Brandon looked up at her, his eyes bleak. “I’ve got to ask you something.”

Elaine pulled up a stool across the kitchen island. “Shoot.”

“Why did you marry Dad?”

Shock registered in Elaine’s eyes briefly, but she recovered quickly. Smiling ruefully, she said, “It’s funny how love works.” At his surprised expression, she said, “You may find this hard to believe, but at one time I was very much in love with your father. I was eighteen, he was twenty-one, and I thought he was the most handsome, most magnetic man in the world.”

“What happened?”

Elaine shrugged. “Life happened. He got promoted. And then he got promoted again.

Your father always believed in hard work.” She smiled. “That’s where you get your drive from.” She hesitated momentarily. “The problem wasn’t his hard work. The problem was that he allowed it to become more important than the rest of his life.”

Pausing to turn off the stove and pour hot water from the tea kettle into bright blue ceramic cups, she said, “Actually, Brandon, I’m glad you brought up your father.”

“You are?”

Elaine placed a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of each of them. “I’ve been worried about you, honey. And I know how moms can be, always getting in their kid's business, so I’ve tried to keep my mouth shut, but...”

“Just spit it out, mom,” Brandon said.

Heaving a big sigh, Elaine said, “The women you’ve been dating don’t seem...how can I put this?” She paused to search for the right words. She reached out for Brandon’s hand and squeezed it. “None of them have ever struck me as the right fit for you, honey.”

“That’s for sure,” he agreed.

“I keep hoping you’ll find the perfect woman. Someone you can love with your whole soul. A woman who will give you her heart. I couldn’t bear to see you turn into your father, into a man who can’t see beyond the bottom line.”

“I don’t know if you’re going to be pleased or furious over what I’m about to do,” he said, feeling more and more bothered with every word his mother had said. Elaine motioned for him to continue. “There’s a new reality TV show called
Falling For Mr. Right
. The basic premise is that a single guy is going to choose his bride from thirty women on national TV.” His next words came out in a rush. “In a flurry of stupidity I auditioned.”

“You’re going to be Mr. Right?”

Brandon nodded.

“I have to hand it to you, honey,” Elaine said, grinning at her son, “That’s certainly an original way to find a wife.”

Brandon cocked his head to the side. “You’re not freaking out?”

Elaine got up and came around the kitchen island to give Brandon a hug. “Love works in mysterious ways. I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up finding your soul mate after all.”

Brandon stared into his tea cup and wished he could read his fortune in the tea leaves.

Because he was wondering if he had already found his soul mate.

And lost her.

* * *

The next morning the phone woke Alexa up out of a deep sleep. She had come home from the audition full of disjointed thoughts and ended up typing away on her laptop until three am.

She noted the producer’s smarmy comments and inappropriate physical contact. She recorded the ridiculous questions they made her answer along with her outrageous responses.

She hesitated before making note of her conversation with Brigit — somehow it seemed wrong to behave like a spy with such a nice person — but in the name of journalistic integrity she typed in their exchanges word for word as well.

All she needed was to develop a soft spot for one of the contestants and her undercover gig would explode in her face. Before going to bed, Alexa had reread the latest cover story in
ROAR
to inspire herself to guard against developing further bonds with anyone on the show that would interfere with her story.

She rolled over in bed, hopeful that the smarmy producer was calling with good news.

“Huoh,” she said sleepily before remembering that she had a new image to live up to. She covered the mouthpiece and cleared her throat. “Hello, this is Alexa,” she said crisply on her second try.

“Alexa, this is Joe Randall, from
Falling For Mr. Right
. I’m so glad I caught you at home.”

“I’m so glad you caught me too,” Alexa murmured flirtatiously. He laughed, clearly flattered by her attention. She wondered if all men were so easily manipulated.

“You are one of the thirty lucky ladies we picked to be on our show!”

“Oh goodie!” Alexa exclaimed, fully awake now and ready to assume the necessary I’m-so-sexy-even-first-thing-in-the-morning role with Joe.

“Saturday evening we will send a limousine over to your apartment to pick you up. Dress to impress because you will be meeting Mr. Right.”

“Wow!” Alexa said with faux-excitement.

“Wow is right,” Joe agreed. “If you make his first selection from thirty girls to the very lucky ten at the end of the evening, you will be moving into a mansion high on the hill in Pacific Heights. Have your bags packed. I’ll be rooting for you.”

Biting back a groan, she said prettily, “I can’t wait, Joe. Thanks for calling me personally.

I really appreciate it.”

Immediately after getting off the phone with the producer, she started to worry about dressing herself appropriately for Saturday night? She needed Mary’s help, and fast.

Scrounging around in the bottom of her bag, she pulled out Mary’s business card with a sigh of relief.

She dialed Mary’s direct line and was thrilled to hear Mary’s soothing voice on the line.

“Mary? It’s Alexa from yesterday. I was working with you on putting together my new, uh...”

“Wardrobe?”

“Yes,” Alexa agreed, trying the word on for size. “My new wardrobe.”

“Speaking of which, honey, how’d your important interview go last night?”

“Really well,” she said, “thanks to you. And actually, that’s why I’m calling. There’s this event on Saturday night where I’m supposed to dress to impress and I have no idea what to wear!”

“That’s an easy one,” Mary replied in the reassuring voice Alexa had come to love. “Do you remember the burgundy, spaghetti strap, silk dress you tried on yesterday?”

“Not really,” Alexa admitted. “The day was sort of a blur, to tell you the truth.”

Mary laughed. “I thought you looked a little overwhelmed,” she said, kind enough to understate the real situation. “Once your new clothes are delivered today, you’ll see the dress I’m talking about. I suggest you wear it with the black, strappy heels you tried on.”

“Heels?” Alexa whined. “Can’t I wear boots or flat sandals with it instead?”

“Absolutely not!” Mary replied, her voice firm. “Do you want to knock their socks off or not?”

“I do,” Alexa said, although she considered high heels to be the most god-awful creation of fashion this side of the corset.

“And be sure to wear the red signet drop earrings that match the dress and highlight your hair to perfection.”

“Hold on, I’ve got to take notes,” Alexa said. “I’d hate for it to get back to you that I ended up wearing the white shoes with the blue dress and the gold hoop earrings.”

Mary’s laughter rang through the phone line. “I like your sense of humor, Alexa. Don’t be afraid to let it out a little more often.”

They hung up and Alexa gave silent thanks that Mary had been appointed her guardian angel. If only she could bring Mary with her on Saturday night to help keep her dress from falling off of her shoulders and her makeup from smearing off of her face.

Alexa immediately called Jared, not feeling the slightest bit bad about waking him up.

“It’s me,” she said loud enough that she could feel him wince across town.”

“Whad you wand?” he mumbled into the phone.

“I need your help. I have to pack for my trip to the mansion.”

“Holy shit,” Jared said. “You made it onto
Falling For Mr. Right
? You’re like a modern day Gloria Steinem going undercover at the Playboy Club.”

Alexa didn’t know whether to be proud or ashamed of how well her girly performance had gone over.

“Yup. I’m in. But I won’t be for long if I can’t figure out how to walk in my damn shoes.

I need you to tell me if I look like a complete idiot or not.”

“And how should I know that?” Jared said, his voice wry with self-deprecation. “How many women do you think I’ve got to compare you against?”

Alexa sighed. It was true that Jared wasn’t exactly a lady killer even though his acne had cleared up years ago. He just needed a little self-esteem, that was all.

Trying not to get too far off track, she ignored his comment and said, “And don’t forget to bring donuts. I definitely won’t be able to get through this without plenty of sugar and grease.”

* * *

Brandon stood on the bottom step of the house he was living in for the duration of filming. He was dressed in one of his best suits and the cameras were rolling as he waited for the first of the thirty contestants to arrive.

During the past week his emotions had run a complete gamut — from being thankful that a wife was going to be handed to him on a silver platter, to thinking it was, bar none, the stupidest thing he had ever done in his whole life.

He couldn’t get the mystery woman out of his mind. No matter how he tried to forget, he saw her eyes, her hair, her incredible body. But most of all he saw her smile and replayed her words over and over, enraptured by their husky tone.

The first limo pulled up and a tall redhead stepped out. Her long legs certainly caught his eye, but instinctively he felt something was missing, even before she stepped close enough to him to introduce herself.

He barely caught her name, before another limo was pulling up with the second candidate. Brandon was grateful that in his line of work he’d honed the skills of remembering names and faces. Even so, keeping up with the introductions was exhausting.

The slow torture continued as one woman after the other arrived to meet him. Finally, when he thought his facial muscles would seize from smiling so much, Joe stepped out next to Brandon from his position behind the camera. Slapping Brandon on the shoulder, Joe said,

“You’ve just met twenty-nine of the thirty contestants! How are you holding up, buddy?”

“Pretty well,” Brandon lied.

“Couldn’t be any more gorgeous, could they?” the producer added with a quick elbow to Brandon’s ribs. “We’ve got one more woman for you to meet and then it’s party time. Just don’t forget that by the end of the evening you are going to have to decide which ten women have stolen a little piece of your heart.”

Joe stepped back behind the cameras, leaving Brandon alone on the step as the final limo pulled up in front of the house. The door opened slowly and the first thing Brandon saw was a stunning set of bare legs and well-manicured feet encased in shimmering, high-heeled black sandals. Brandon’s exhaustion suddenly vanished as he waited to see the rest of the package.