Romancing Miss Right (19 page)

“It’s so good to see you,” her married sister
gushed. “You have to tell us everything.”

“The gossiping can wait,” her father
grumbled. “Let’s get you inside. It looks like rain. Last thing we
need is one of your camera people suing us because he was too
stupid to get out of an electrical storm.”

Her mother grimaced apologetically for her
father’s dig against the show and Marcy sighed.
And so it
begins.
But they all obediently trickled toward the house.

As soon as they got inside, her father
muttered something about checking the scores and retreated to his
den, leaving Marcy, her mother and her sisters to congregate where
they usually did. In the kitchen.

Their family wasn’t the traditional the man
watches sports while the little woman cooks for him sort—her father
actually did most of the cooking, having worked as a line cook
during college, but the kitchen had always been a gathering place,
ever since she and her sisters were small.

Laurie would sit at the table—at first doing
her homework or some craft project, now presiding over her kids as
they did the same, though Marcy’s nieces and nephews were nowhere
in sight. “Are the kids coming later?” she asked.

“If they’re good. They got such big heads
about being on the show last season, we’ve been using it as a
carrot. It’s better than the Santa Claus knows you’ve been naughty
trick.
Eat your vegetables or no Romancing Miss Right
.”
Laurie grimaced, settling herself into her chair. “My children,
blackmailed by fame. They have a soccer game today and Rick is
being Super Daddy and taking them, but they’ll probably be hamming
it up for the cameras tomorrow.”

Dinah hitched herself up on the counter,
thunking her bare heels against the cupboards until their mother
shot her a glare. “Tell us about the guys. I’m dying here.”

“Let her get settled, Dinah,” her mother
said, taking her usual position on one of the breakfast bar
stools.

Marcy claimed her post on the window seat
where she’d scribbled her first story at the age of ten. Princes
and princesses and happily ever afters, even then.

The camera crews in the kitchen moved
stealthily around, trying to get them all in the shot, but mostly
stayed out of the way.

“Which one has the hardest abs?” Dinah
demanded when Marcy didn’t immediately volunteer details.

She snorted, the answer easy. “Darius. He’ll
be up first. He’s very… competitive.”

Dinah made a face. “So he’s in it for the
trophy and you’re the trophy. Blech.”

“Maybe. I’d like all of your opinions on him.
I don’t want to sell him short if he’s more than just a super hot
athlete.”

Laurie snorted. “There are worse things than
super hot athletes.”

“The day after Darius is Daniel. He’s…
perfect. Seriously, I have yet to find a flaw in this guy. He’s
from the Midwest. Teaches school for a living. Wants kids. Loves
his parents. Gets along brilliantly with his siblings—his Meet the
In-Laws visit was like an episode of some sitcom about the perfect
family or something. You guys would love them. He’s blown away by
all the adventures we have on the show—not jaded at all—and I
always feel like he’s looking out for me. He’s really in it for
me.”

“He sounds amazing.” Laurie grinned, but
Dinah was frowning.

“Yeah…” she muttered.

“What?” Marcy prodded her little sister
impatiently.

“ It’s just… that’s a great list and all, but
you never once mentioned how you feel about him.”

“Oh, well, you know. He’s so great. How could
I not be crazy about him?” She smiled, but Dinah’s frown didn’t
dissipate. “Anyway, lastly is Craig. He’s the troublemaker.”

Laurie’s jaw dropped. “You still have the guy
they brought on the show to be the bad guy? Marcy, that’s
Romancing Miss Right
101. You don’t keep the villains past
week five.”

“I know, I know, but there’s just something
about Craig. You’ll see. It’s hard not to like him, even when he’s
being nefarious, because he’s so upfront about it. I mean, is he
really the villain if he’s telling you the truth about what he
wants from you?”

“What does he say he wants from you?” Dinah
asked.

“Publicity. He wants to be famous. Which I
bet is the reason a bunch of the Suitors really come on the show,
but at least Craig is self-aware enough to know that’s why he’s
doing it and honest enough to be upfront with me about it.”

“He
told
you he’s only after the
exposure?” Laurie’s jaw was still hanging low.

“Ballsy move,” Dinah said, with grudging
respect.

“He’s definitely got balls.” Marcy flicked a
glance to where their mother was taking it all in. “Not literally.
I mean I’m sure he does, literally, but I don’t have any firsthand
knowledge of his balls or lack thereof.”

Her mother snorted. “You’re a grown woman and
a romance novelist, Marcy. I gave up hope of you being a virgin on
your wedding night when I read the sex scenes in your first
book.”

“Pure imagination. I make it all up.”

“Your father is clinging to that belief. I’m
a little more practical. I only ask that you make good
choices.”

Marcy grimaced. She wasn’t sure how many of
those she’d been making lately. Being Miss Right was nothing but
choices, but how did she know if she was making the right ones?
She’d been living in a bubble, without the input of those who cared
about her, for far too long. “I can’t wait to see what you guys
think of them.”

“Tomorrow will come soon enough,” her mother
murmured—one of her favorite clichés. “We’re just glad to have you
home today.”

“Me too. I just wish Daddy wasn’t still
pissed at me.”

Her mother sighed. “You know your father.
He’ll get over it. Eventually.”

“How has he been?” Marcy asked. “He looks
tired.”

“We’ll all be relieved when this is over and
you’re home.” A frown rose to her mother’s face. “If you are coming
home. Where do these boys live?”

“Daniel’s from Indiana. It’s a pretty easy
drive from here.”

“Well, isn’t he perfect?” Dinah muttered,
though it didn’t sound like a compliment.

“Darius is from Atlanta and Craig from San
Diego, but I haven’t discussed who would live where after the show
with any of them. I wouldn’t be able to move in with the guy I
choose until after the show airs anyway, so there would be at least
a few months when I would come back here and pack up my place.”

Not that it would take long to pack. The two
bedroom apartment she rented above an ice cream shop in town wasn’t
big enough to accumulate a lot of stuff.

“Well, we’ll be glad to have you back for as
long as we can get you and we’ll support you, whatever decision you
make.”

“Do you? Does
he
?”

Her mother frowned. “You two should talk. You
and your father have always been too alike for your own good. Both
so convinced you can organize the world to suit you.” Her mother
rose, reaching into the fridge for a small platter. “Here. Take him
some of that fancy salami he likes. I learned a long time ago how
to feed that man into a good mood.”

Marcy grinned and took the platter. Her mom
might be playing up her famous clichés a bit for the cameras, but
if that was all the reaction the cameras infiltrating her house
caused, Marcy would take that as a win. Everything was much more
invasive this time—something her father had feared. And now she had
to beard him in his den… with a camera trailing in her wake,
recording her every move.

“Daddy?”

The den was equal parts library and
cinema—all the walls that weren’t covered by the giant fifty inch
television were stacked floor-to-ceiling with built-in bookshelves,
cluttered until the shelves sagged under the weight of the books.
Her mother had always liked to garden and build little projects in
her spare time, passing on her love of crafts to Laurie—but her dad
had shared his love of books with Marcy. He was the one who’d given
her the first David Eddings and Robert Ludlum she’d ever read.

Growing up, she’d often found him in here—a
book open on his lap and a game muted on the television, though the
screens had been smaller then.

He’d been the one she went to when she
decided she wanted to try to make it as a writer and even though
he’d never read a romance novel before, he’d gone out and bought
five of the best sellers as research immediately after telling her
he believed she could do it—no matter how steeply the odds were
stacked against her.

She’d like to think she would have been able
to make that leap to follow her dreams without his belief in her
beneath her as a safety net, but she wasn’t sure she would have.
His support was a giant part of the person she’d become—and now
he’d taken it away.

When she hesitated in the doorway, he closed
the book on his lap, clearing his throat gruffly. “You know you’re
always welcome, Marcy.”

She came all the way in, and the camera
followed before closing the door. “Mom sent you some of that
salami.”

“Trying to butter me up, eh? Not subtle, that
woman,” he said affectionately, and swiped a cracker and a slice of
the meat off the tray as soon as she set it on the table between
the two big arm chairs that dominated the den.

Marcy sank down into the other chair, sitting
sideways to face her father and tucking her legs up underneath her
like she did when she was a kid. “How long are you planning to be
mad at me about going back on the show?”

He turned to look at her, glowering. “I’m not
mad at you. I’m worried about you. This whole business, advertising
yourself on national television, toying with people’s hearts—it
doesn’t sit well.”

“I know you don’t like it, but can you at
least support me? Try to take it seriously?”

“Is that what you’re doing? Taking it
seriously?”

A few weeks ago, he might have been right to
question how seriously she was about finding love on national
television, but right now it felt all too real. “They aren’t bad
guys.”

“That doesn’t make them good enough for you.”
He ran his hands over the book in his lap. One of hers.

She smiled at his protective grumble. “Just
give them a chance, okay? For me?”

His nod was grudging. “For you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I hate him.”

Marcy cringed, but she couldn’t exactly argue
with her father’s comment. From the moment he’d stepped out of the
SUV, exclaiming “So this is what the flyover states look like,”
Craig had been a world class douche today. It was no surprise her
father despised him.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He
isn’t usually like this.”

“How nice of him to put on a show for us.”
Her dad dropped the empty wine bottle in the recycling bin and
reached into the fridge for another bottle of white.

Through the kitchen windows they could see
the picnic tables where Craig was entertaining the rest of her
family. He’d been in rare form today.

Her father shook his head. “For him to come
right out and say he was only using you for his career—did he think
we would let him disrespect you like that?”

“Dinah did ask him directly.”
The little
brat
. “And if you recall, last year when I left to go on the
show, I was only thinking of it as a publicity stunt too.”

“That’s different.”

“Why? Because I’m your daughter and I get the
benefit of the doubt?”

He twisted the corkscrew with quick angry
motions. “Because you gave that Jack a chance. You never
disrespected him.”

“I wasn’t completely honest with him either.
Not at first. Is that really better?”

“Lots of people hold things back at the
beginning of a relationship. It’s called dating.” He jerked at the
cork, cursing when it broke, leaving half wedged in the mouth of
the bottle.

“So the fact that Craig was honest from day
one is a mark against him?”

“Why are you defending him?” her father
growled, prodding the cork fragment with the corkscrew. “You can’t
actually prefer him. That Darius may not have the first idea who
you are because he’s so focused on winning the show, but Daniel is
everything you’ve been looking for. Why are you wasting your time
with that Craig?”

“He isn’t a waste of time. I know he’s doing
all he can to be a jerk today, but he’s a nice guy, under all
that.”

“Do you hear yourself?” The second half of
the cork came free and he tossed the corkscrew onto the counter.
“He’s a nice guy, but only you can see it. It doesn’t matter that
he disrespects you and your family because
he isn’t usually like
that
. I thought I raised you to have more respect for yourself,
Marcy.”

“And I thought you had a little faith in me.”
She plucked the chilled bottle from his hand, pivoting and charging
out the side door toward the picnic in progress.

Her father didn’t immediately follow and at
the moment she almost wished he wouldn’t. Something was wrong with
Craig. Off. She didn’t know what had happened since the last time
she saw him at the Elimination Ceremony in LA, but she didn’t need
her father frowning over everything and judging her while she tried
to figure out what the hell was up with him.

“… of course my roommate caught me sneaking
back into my suite, so the cat was out of the bag, but it was worth
it for a little sugar—” Craig broke off when Marcy approached with
the wine.

“Craig was just telling us how he snuck over
to see you in Bora Bora,” Dinah explained, as Marcy handed off the
white to her mother to pour. “It sounds so romantic.”

The dry tone of her voice said the same thing
the slight frowns on everyone else’s faces said.
So full of
himself. What do you see in him? Such a smug bastard.

And they were right. Today he was all those
things. She just couldn’t figure out why.