"Unfortunately, I never got to the crowd part." Julia laughed out loud, took Chloe's hand, then pulled her along to her bedroom. In a matter of thirty minutes, with Julia's help, Chloe dressed and fixed her hair. They worked on her makeup, and Julia even insisted on a dab of perfume. When finally they returned to the ballroom, Chloe hardly recognized herself. When she walked in, Pete was taping one of the Roses as she introduced herself to Trey. Several heads turned. Trey concentrated on the moment like a pro. But the minute Pete called cut, Trey looked over at her as if he had sensed she was there all along. His dark eyes heated with a sensuality that she recognized. She felt as if he undressed her with his gaze. "Next!" Pete barked. Leticia stood from her chair, her red dress glittering like a jewel under the intense lights. "I'm ready." Trey refocused. "Roll tape." Leticia strode forward, staring directly at Trey. Chloe could feel the intensity that the woman exuded. Her body looked like every man's wet dream. "The camera adds twenty pounds," Julia whispered. "She's going to look fat." Chloe told herself that she wasn't happy about it. In fact, she forcefully reminded herself of her plan. "Hello, Trey," the woman purred in an I-want-to-have-wild-passionate-sex-with-you voice. "I look forward to spending time with you. I look forward to getting to know you. And I hope you look forward to me." She emphasized the word me. Not seeing me , or even getting to know me . No one under the age of thirteen would understand the double meaning, but everyone older would. Trey smiled, then kissed the back of her hand. Next came Mindy. If the nurse had been worried before, she had packed the worry up along with her white stockings and crepe-soled shoes. Chloe would have sworn that the royal blue organza blouse she had chosen was unbuttoned a few buttons lower than when everyone had first gathered in the ballroom. "Hi, Trey," she stated, sounding more like a high school cheerleader than a medical professional. "I'm hoping that we have some time to spend together. I thought that you might want to practice a little CPR." Chloe choked. Julia swallowed back a laugh. Trey, if he was surprised, didn't show it. He chuckled appreciatively, and Chloe knew that when they showed his hint of a roguish smile on television tonight, every woman in El Paso between the ages of eight and eighty would fall madly in love with him. "He's good," Julia commented. If she only knew how good. The first six introductions were completed with a few minutes left before noon. Pete thought it was a good idea if diey got Chloe's intro out of the way, since, as a professional, she should be quick and efficient. Then they'd only have five to do that afternoon. Pulling back her shoulders, Chloe walked forward. Professional or not, her knees were shaking with both fear and excitement. She was going to be on TV! Even though she had worked at KTEX since she graduated from college, she had never been in front of the camera. But the second Pete called action she froze. Chloe stared in horror at the dark, opalescent lens of the camera. She squeaked when Trey reached out and touched her chin. "Hello," he said kindly. "Ah, hello," she managed, still staring into the lens. Think, Chloe, think. "Ah, hello," she repeated. "Cut! What the hell is going on with you, Chloe?" Pete bleated. Sense returned the minute the red recording light blinked off. "See, I told you I was shy! I shouldn't be doing this. I'm not cut out for this." "Pull yourself together while we do the sweeping shots of the entire group of women instead." The wide-angle shots of all the Roses went quickly. When they were done, Pete added, "Chloe, we'll do your intro after lunch with the remaining girls." He turned to the group. "We'll start back at twelve-thirty. Don't be late." The Roses were herded out to the kitchen, where Julia's housekeeper Zelda had laid out a spread of sandwiches, salads, and sodas. But no one was hungry. Trey came up to Chloe. "You said you'd take me to your house." "Oh," she groaned, still embarrassed at having failed at something so simple. Stage fright! Her! "Of course." She headed out the back door. Trey grabbed his suitcase and followed. She didn't slow down, despite her high heels, as she took the path she had taken a thousand times before between Julia's mansion and her own house. When they stepped through the archway that connected the side yards, Trey tilted his head. "So this is where you live." "Yes," she replied, trying not to feel defensive. Her home was tiny compared to Julia's. But she loved it, and she was proud even though no doubt it was probably microscopic compared to anything this man would live in. "I find it fascinating that you work with Julia and live next door to her, too." "Kate lives on the other side of Julia." "Did you move here at the same time?" "No. We all lived here as kids." "You moved here with your family? Do you still live with them?" he asked. Her jaw felt tight. "It was my grandmother's house before she died a year ago." "I'm sorry." She relaxed, but just a bit. "She left it to me." "So you live alone." "Actually, no. My father moved in six months ago." He glanced around. "I guess you really are close to your father if he lives with you." "Absolutely." She looked around as well. "Though I wish I could spend more time with him." "What?" "Nothing. Tell me about your friends and family." That distracted him. Suddenly he was lost in some kind of thought that she couldn't fathom. "There's nothing to tell." "Sure there is. Tell me about your friends from when you were a kid, guys you went to school with." He stared out into the yard, at the flowers and trees, without responding. After a second, he walked around her on the narrow path, not touching her, and headed for the house. She would have sworn he said that he didn't have any friends. "No way." "What?" he asked. "You don't have any friends?" "I didn't say that." "Sure you did." "You're mistaken." He walked to the back porch like he owned the place, pulled open the screen door that was at the top of two cement steps, and gestured for her to enter. "The clock is ticking until we have to return." "Fine. If you don't want to talk about not having any friends, who am I to push?" He muttered an oath under his breath, and used his head to gesture for her to get inside. The minute they entered, she felt at once relaxed and nervous. This house invoked such a mixed bag of feelings in her. Her home for so long, and now she even owned it. But it still felt more like her grandmother's house, however much Chloe had added her own touches. Trey looked around. But it wasn't the tiles or the stenciling he noticed. "Who's this?" he asked with a smile. "Though I think I can guess." He peered closer at the framed color photo. "That's Julia; that's Kate." He straightened. "And that's you." He turned to look at her. "You were cute." "Cute?" Uncomfortable, she strode past him, praying he couldn't hear the pounding of her heart at the unfamiliar compliment. "I was never cute. Come on, I'll show you around and fill you in about the rules." "Rules?" he queried, setting the photo down. "You expect me to live by rules?" That's when it hit her. "Instructions," she clarified, her mind suddenly racing. If he wanted to pretend to be Trey Tanner, regular working stiff like the rest of them, who was she not to let him live like an average, ordinary, not filthy-rich guy? "Helpful hints, is more like it," she added. "I'll just show you around so you'll know where everything is when you need to clean the house." Inspired, she gestured to a closet, opening the doors like she was on a game show. "Clean the house?" he asked incredulously. "You expect me to clean?" She batted her eyes innocently. "I would have done it myself for the other Catch, but since I have my hands full now with both producing and being on the show, it seems like you can clean for yourself." He made a noise that she pretended was agreement. "Over here we have the dishwasher. Detergent is under the sink along with anything else you will need. Windex, 409â" "What is 409?" "Tsk, tsk." She wagged her finger at him. "Don't tell me we are going to have another coffee episode." "My coffee was great." She snorted. "Whatever. It's never too late to learn," she told him, then turned and headed for the refrigerator. "I didn't know what a bachelor would want. But I bought pork chops for the grill. Lettuce and tomatoes for salads. Cold cuts for sandwiches. There's plenty of things in here that you can whip up for lunches and dinners." "Whip up?" "You know, cooking. Or is that something else you don't know about? Good Lord, Trey, where were you raised?" She looked at him with devilish seriousness. "I know about cooking," he grumbled, his humor evaporating. At least he didn't out-and-out lie and say he knew how to cook. She didn't believe for a second he had cooked himself a meal in his life. But she only smiled. "I knew we had to feed our bachelor, so I worked meals into the budget." "But not a cleaning service." "Oops, no." She giggled with relish and closed the refrigerator door as the last piece to her plan fell into place. "The only other thing you'll have to do is mow the lawn." Genius. Pure genius. "I am not going to mow the lawn." "You don't know how, Trey?" she asked with a sweet pout. "Is that beyond your talents?" He glared. "It is not beyond my talents." "Good!" She turned on her heel and marched out to the garage, where her brand-new, wonderful mower sat. "Ta da! What do you think?" "I think you're intentionally trying to make me crazy." "Would I do that?" She tried to look hurt. "Yes." She laughed out loud. "Let me explain how it works." She told him about the self-propelling mechanism, the pull cord for starting, and the ever-important clutch. "Do you want me to demonstrate?" "I can use a mower," he stated arrogantly. She raised a brow, then shrugged. "Watch out for my flowers." When he growled and looked like he might do something they would both regretâkill her or kiss herâshe swept out of the garage. "That's about it. Now I'll show you where you'll sleep." Which meant bedroom, and bed, and her body started another slow rise to awareness. He followed her back into the house. She saw the irritation in his eyes, but good manners compelled him to hold the doors for her as they returned inside. Every time their bodies got close, she could feel the heat of him, like sun breaking through a cold cloudy day. At the back of the house, she bypassed her own bedroom, proceeding to the guest room. But he stopped at her door and looked inside. "You can't go in there!" He did anyway. Crossing her arms over her sequined-and-beaded chest, she was put out by the way he constantly did as he pleased. She tried not to be affected by the sight of this tall, strong man in a tux who looked so out of place in her tiny bedroom. One of these days she would have the money to replace her twin bed and simple furniture that she'd had since she moved to El Paso. In junior high, Julia had marched into the house and told Chloe's grandmother that her granddaughter's room was an embarrassment. She had then proceeded to dole out instructions to Chloe and Kate as to how to paint all that furniture. The paint had remained, faded but well cared for. Her grandmother had watched silently, only nodding her head in approval when they were done. Now, decades later, with a sophisticated man taking it all in, she felt vulnerable and very young. "Amazing room," he said. She wrinkled her nose in surprise. "You like it?" He turned around and met her gaze. "I like you." "You don't like me. And I certainly don't like you," she sputtered indignantly. But that didn't stop him from smiling confidently. "Did I tell you how great you look?" She snorted with effort because in reality a little thrill raced down her spine at the compliment. "First I'm cute, and now you say I look great? What's gotten into you?" "I had a hell of a time concentrating on all the other women today because I was thinking of you." "You can't play favorites." "I never said you were my favorite." She punched him in the chest. He laughed out loud. "Ouch." "That didn't hurt." "True." Then he reached out. But she was too fast for him. She leaped away and tried not to look like she was hurrying to safety. "We have to be back on the set in fifteen minutes. Can't afford to dawdle when the clock is ticking."
ELEVEN
Everyone took their places back on the set at Julia's house. Trey was the last to return, and Chloe would have sworn he looked at her with a strange grimace as if he didn't get who she was. Or maybe it was that he didn't quite get what had happened between them in her bedroom. She suspected there weren't many women who walked out on him. Good. One more example for him of what the real world was like. Though this afternoon she planned to give him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget. "Let's get started, people," Pete called out. "We need to finish up and pronto." The next five Roses were taped doling out the sort of sugary Trey-you-are-so-amazing sorts of lines that made Chloe feel like she was going into a diabetic fit. Though she knew just how to cure the sweetness, and ultimately succeed in her plan to get kicked off the show. "Chloe, you're up," Pete called out. She still wore the sexy dress, and she was feeling a little feisty, which helped matters. The minute the camera started to roll, she had just the sort of out of body experience that she knew she'd need to get through thisâ especially after she'd gone stock-still in front of the camera that morning. She strolled up to him, thinking felineâPersian, roaring lion, sultry tigerâevery step of the way. He stood there with his hands clasped in front of him, his feet apart. He looked commanding and powerful, his shoulders wide and strong beneath the perfect cut of his tuxedo. "Hey there," she cooed with a sexy softness. Suspicion narrowed his dark eyes faster than if he had bit into a lemon. It pleased her that she had scratched his polished surface. With effort, she held back a giddy smile. She took the remaining steps, working her hips, and stopped barely a hand's length in front of him. Tilting her head back so she could look him in the eye, she thought bold, sexy, bad girl thoughts, then reached out and walked her fingers up his chest. "Oooo, you're such a big strong manly man." Suspicion turned to wry disbeliefâor maybe it was leery disbelief. Either way, she could tell from his expression that he knew something was up. "I just love big strong manly men. Those types of guys I heard you mention." That really got his attention. "What was it you said?" She thought she might have purred. "As I recall, you said you're a Neanderthal who thinks sex is a game and your only goal is to score." She pretended to shiver with pleasure, though in truth the pleasure she felt had everything to do with the strange choking sound he was making. "You did say that, didn't you, Trey?" she asked with an innocent smile at the camera. "Oops, did I make you mad?" She didn't wait for him to answer. She started to turn away, having every intention of beating a sexy, albeit hasty, retreat. But he startled her when he caught her arm. His grip was like steel, but surprisingly gentle. "I think you must have me mistaken with someone else. I certainly have never thought of sex as a game. Sex is about two people sharing a connection." The awareness that sizzled through the room was tangible, and every one of the Roses swooned. She was supposed to have left him standing there speechless, dumbfounded. Instead he had regained the upper hand in a matter of seconds. Damn, damn, damn. She turned her back on the camera and leaned close. "You just made that up," she hissed. "You don't believe it." He gave her an aggravatingly knowing smile. Things weren't going as she planned. Okay. She rolled her shoulders. Think. Regroup. "Fine, but I do know what you said," she said for the audience to hear. "Think back," she persisted. "Are you sure you never said something like that? About men and women, and perceptions? Perhaps when you were in the 'interviewing' process?" She saw the minute he remembered what she was talking about. The day when they were questioning potential candidates for The Catch . This time he leaned close so no one could hear, his jaw muscles starting to tick. "I was talking about what you thought I must think." The camera might not have picked up the actual words, but it surely made out his defensive stanceâlike a guilty man who had been caught, and wasn't happy about it. Relief! "A technicality," she whispered with a laugh. But the truth was, she felt anything but triumphant. At the look on his face, all she felt was guilty and mean. She steeled herself against her conscience. The fact was, he started this. She shouldn't feel guilty. She was adding a little spice to the show and she was getting herself the boot in the process. It was perfect. She forced a carefree laugh for the camera, then tugged her arm away and headed off the set, but not before she finally got herself back in order and remembered to slap him on the butt and wink. If he could have, she was sure he would have murdered her right then and there. Perfect! She had just regained the upper hand. Yep, she practically gloated. It was just a matter of time before she was sitting on the sidelines, producing full-time, with Trey mad as Hades and leaving her the hell alone. Kate was truly shocked. Julia was trying hard not to laugh out loud. "Did he really say that?" Julia wanted to know. "He did," Chloe said with a superior shake of her head. "Or sort of," she amended. "Sort of? Chloe, what did he say?" "That. But he was just saying what he thought I thought about the sort of man he was. Or is. He is." She cringed. "But he did say it. Just for different reasons, perhaps, than I let on." "And you think that's going to get you kicked off?" "Wouldn't you kick me off if you were in his shoes?" "No question." Julia laughed, Kate shook her head, and Chloe was feeling relieved. But her relief was short-lived. "What do you mean, you're offering me a rose?" she yelped an hour later when he called her name as the camera taped the first rose ceremony. With the camera light glowing green, he pruned the list down to eight. She was the eighth and final Rose he called. Some of the girls preened and gushed. Others sat quietly, clearly thankful to still be in contention. While others, including sweet Janice, sat on the sofa, holding back tears of disappointment that they hadn't been chosen. Chloe, on the other hand, was furious. Pete and his cameraman caught it all. "You can't offer me a rose," Chloe stated. "You're supposed to cut me. I was horrible, mean, a total witch!" It was Trey who turned to the director with barely held patience, and called, "Cut." "Great, cut the camera, cut four other women, but you won't cut me! Well, too bad, I don't accept your rose." The Roses and the stagehands gasped. "You can't not accept," he said through gritted teeth. "Says who?" "Says me." "And that matters why?" "Because I'm the boss!" He visibly tried to rein in control. This was more of the man that she expected him to be. This was a man she could hate and ignore. Not the fun, playful guy from earlier. Not the guy who actually looked a little hurt by what she had falsely accused him of. "No, you are not the boss," she stated. "You're the co-boss. And I say a Rose can say no. It will be great. Viewers will love it. Isn't that right, Julia?" The owner of KTEX TV grimaced. "Actually, I think he's right. We can't make our bachelor look any more unappealing than he already looks." "Unappealing?" Trey demanded. "Sorry," Julia responded without looking the least bit contrite. "I'm not sure where you learned to woo a woman, but it might very well have been in Neanderthal 101. That said, we don't need you looking any worse, since it's too late for us to find someone else." She turned to Chloe. "Accept the damn rose and let's get this done. We only have an hour until airtime, and we still have to edit the footage. Tick, tick, tick, everyone." Chloe glared, but she knew Julia was right. She hadn't thought about the ramifications of making their bachelor look so pathetic that a Rose would cut him. Their Catch needed to look like a rugged alpha male. She might not like that, really, she told herself firmly, but tons of women loved that kind of guy. And while they would scream at the screen and throw verbal tomatoes at him, they would swoon just a little since they didn't have to deal with him in real life. For this show to succeed, first thing tomorrow morning, every secretary and soccer mom in the city limits needed to be talking about the Catch over coffee. She just had to get him to cut her. Which led her to Plan B. At the end of the next episode, he would cut the field down from eight to six. She had every intention of being one of the two he sent packing.