The Accidental TV Star (9 page)

“Terrific.” Kate lifted her sweater set over her head and left it on her stool. Underneath she wore a backless, metallic silver halter-top.

“That’s my girl, secretly slutty,” Cal said and Kate bumped his fist in agreement. “How about you? How off is your show name, Star Stalker?”

“Mine’s pretty much spot on,” I said. “You in, Hannah?”

“Yeah.” She took off her black
Scoop Out
T-shirt. Underneath, she wore a neon pink tank.

“How about you, Gert?”

“Shit, no.” Gert put on a flannel shirt, drew a pack of cigarettes from the pocket and tapped the end against her palm. “You kids have fun.”

The whole process was like watching Clark Kent change into Superman.

Kate dragged a shirt from her bag and tossed it to me. “Hold up, Marissa.”

The shirt had green sequins, thin straps and landed two inches above the navel. I looked from it to my ancient T-shirt. “Thanks,” I said, and headed to the bathroom to change.

“I’ll grab some makeup.” Hannah went for the small vanity in the corner we used for touchups.

Hannah and Kate met me in the bathroom at the counter. Hannah set up the large, professional makeup kit in the center along with a stash of cotton swabs and cotton balls for application. “Pick your poison.”

We dug through the kit like Christmas came early. Hannah was very particular about color, Kate was fastidious about high-gloss finish, and I had a fondness for sparkle. As Hannah lined her cornflower blue eyes with a neon green pencil, I noticed charcoal under her nails, beneath her chipped neon pink manicure. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”

Hannah’s wide blue eyes flashed to me. “I’m not.”

“I took Art in high school. Drawing pencils are like mustard, impossible to get out from under your nails.”

A flush ran under Hannah’s pale skin. “I’m going to major in Art in the fall, but I’m not an artist yet.” Her perfect sweeps of eyeliner defied her words.

***

The cool water slid down my throat, a welcome relief in this heat. The club was packed, and we were having a blast. No one asked anyone to dance; it was just a group free-for-all dance off. Hannah rocked out hidden rage, and Kate had so many moves, I didn’t know where to look. I had no idea how she got her body to be so stiff on the show or why. Maybe she pretended her mom was watching. That would work for me.

Cal stuck with us and divided his flirting equally between the three of us. Stupid man, might have had a shot if he’d narrowed in on someone, though watching Kate it appeared he might have a shot anyway. He had a great body and he could move and Kate definitely noticed.

One of the bouncers, a huge guy wearing a tight black T-shirt, jeans, and a microphone headpiece came to our group. “Excuse me, Miss.”

Crap. I wasn’t twenty-one, but I wasn’t drinking. Maybe Kate sneaking me and Hannah in wasn’t such a great idea, but she’d said it wasn’t a problem, that people on TV shows were allowed in places like this. People on TV shows. Me!

The bouncer leaned closer.

The music pounded and my heart picked up the beat. I hoped Hannah knew to run while he interrogated me. The strobe light flashed across his cold eyes. He motioned to a glassed-in balcony that had been tinted dark. “You’re invited to the VIP room. Come with me.”

Kate squealed. Again, she was nothing like her on-air persona. “Killer! Cal, come on. We’re going to the VIP room. Grab Hannah.”

The guy held up his hands and shook his head. “Just her.”

I stopped walking, ending up on the edge of the dance floor.

Kate’s eyes flashed with envy. “Wow. Have fun, Marissa.”

Cal crossed his arms over his chest, and Hannah didn’t seem to care. She was rocking out to the song, both her fists in the air.

I tilted my head back and narrowed my gaze, but couldn’t see anything upstairs. If we weren’t all invited, this wasn’t about
Scoop Out
. I only knew one VIP and I wasn’t going upstairs to spend the evening waiting on him and his cronies. “There are four of us.”

“Just you, Miss.”

“Tell Caesar, thanks, but no thanks. I’m off duty. He can summon another groupie.” I turned my back to the bouncer and joined Hannah on the dance floor. Now I had my own rage to shake out. Two beats in, I laughed. I wasn’t really a rager at heart.

Kate shook her head and her dark hair spun out freeing her braids. One swung into my arm with a slight sting. I backed up. “I can’t believe you,” Kate said. “No one gets to go up there. Not unless they really know someone.”

“Who do you know?” Cal looked me up and down. “Nah, maybe it’s because you look so hot in that outfit.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You said you liked me in the big blue apron.”

Hannah spun. “He says that to all the female contestants.”

Cal winked. “And I mean it every time.”

Hannah shook her head and bopped into our circle. “I don’t even know where to start with you.”

“If you can’t take the bait, get out of the swamp,” Cal said.

“We don’t have swamps in Austin,” Hannah replied.

“Austin? I’m from Trallwyn! North of Houston.” I shoved my hair off my sweaty forehead. I wanted to go for my water, but I’d left it unattended and knew better than to drink it now, and I didn’t want to pay five dollars for another glass of what I was certain was tap water.

“My friendly neighbors,” Cal said. He crossed his fingers. “Louisiana and Texas are like this.”

“Where are you from, Kate?”

Kate’s mouth opened, and she pointed behind me. I knew the cause of her stupor without turning.

Garrett snaked his heavy arm around my bare waist. I stilled. He bent his head to my ear. “Marissa.”

“Come down to dance with us mere mortals?” I asked and looked him over. Garrett didn’t appear overly warm at all. Perfect hair. Creased black slacks. Un-tucked dark green shirt.

He flattened his palm against my waist. “Nice top. It’s as if wee fairies ran out of magical thread.”

His hand felt warm. I felt every inch as if he’d burned me with a permanent mark. I sucked in a breath at the sensation.

Kate stared at me, her brown eyes huge. “You
really
know Garrett Campbell? How do you know Garrett Campbell? Does
Scoop Out
know you know Garrett Campbell?” Her voice rose with each question.

Garrett held out his free hand. “Hi, I’m Garrett Campbell.”

His droll delivery made me laugh and the movement pressed me against his body. I blinked. I had to get out of this situation. “I—”

I’d started to explain how I worked for him, but Garrett interrupted me. “It’s complicated. And now Marissa’s going to dance with me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Garrett spun me toward him and one of my favorite songs kicked on. I threw back my head and grinned. “Okay, but only because I love this one.”

Garrett danced with his sole attention on me. When I moved, he countered it. For a big guy, he could dance. The whole thing was hot and more than one camera phone flashed during the song. I didn’t flatter myself that they were getting a shot of me. Garrett looked good. After the song ended, Garrett took my hand and faced my friends. “We flew in delicacies from all over the world, to tempt the mortals into our lair. Chefs should find it intriguing, like tables set by gods awaiting your judgments. Want to come upstairs with me?”

Hannah and Kate stepped forward at once, and said in unison, “Yes.”

Cal shrugged. “If it’s not from Louisiana, I wouldn’t call it a delicacy, but sure.”

That left me, but Garrett didn’t wait for my vote. He turned, keeping a tight grip on my hand, and headed for the stairs. People were calling his name by this point and pushing into us to get to him, so we sped up and Garrett motioned for the bouncer. He ushered us into a roped off area. Then we followed Garrett upstairs to the VIP room.

Inside was an area with curtained couches, a full bar, two waitresses, Max, Sax, and several tall women who appeared to be models. The music played on, but not as loud as downstairs. I shook loose from Garrett, headed straight for the bar, grabbed a bottle of water, and chugged it.

Garrett leaned on the counter, watching me drink. I lowered the bottle and motioned at the girls with the end. “What are you doing, Garrett? Go talk to one of your models.”

Garrett stared at my bare waist. “Hang out with me tonight. Be my date.”

I crossed my arms over my exposed skin and lowered my voice. “Seriously, Garrett, I’m not dating the boss, so a dance is all you’re getting.”

Garrett reached over and twined his finger around a strand of my hair. “It’s only for the summer, so it’s not a real job anyway.”

I pulled the strand loose, careful not to touch him. I liked his hands too much. “It’s real enough for me and I need all three months of pay before I start college in the fall.”

“It’s not like I would fire you if you went out with me and then didn’t want to again.” His confident expression said,
like that would happen.

“Yeah, and Caz didn’t fire Ashley last summer.”

“That wasn’t because they broke up,” Garrett defended his friend. “And he felt really bad later. He’s British so it doesn’t show, but he did.”

Still, the result had been the same. Ashley had come home early, jobless and heartbroken. That would not be me. I’d started out my summer that way, that wasn’t how I wanted to end it. Maybe I’d test the strength of his interest. “You really want to date a girl who’s living with you?”

Garrett pursed his lips, looking torn between getting what he wanted and accepting the possible consequences. That showed me how far he’d thought this through. I said, “Trust me on this, Garrett, there are other reasons we shouldn’t date.”

My phone jangled out George Strait’s break up song, signaling a text from my ex-boyfriend Evan. Not his first since we’d broken up. I used the excuse to change the topic and read the screen. Evan had written,
Saw your picture on a commercial for Scoop Out. What’s going on? Where are you?

I waved my phone. “Prime example.”

 Garrett lifted it from me and carried it over to one of the curtained off couches. The curtains gave the area a private feel. He tapped on the screen before giving the phone back. “Who the hell is Evan and why is he dressed like a park ranger?”

I sank down, kicked my shoes off, and curled my legs up on the red cushion. “My ex. He dumped me after graduation and moved to Colorado for college.”

“Loser.”

“Yeah. Long distance relationships don’t work.” I would be in Texas in September and Garrett would be in California.

Garrett scooted closer and rubbed a soothing thumb over my forearm. His touch had the opposite effect, sending a jolt through me. With his other hand, he tugged the privacy curtain further along the track and then leaned his forehead against mine. “I won’t fire you. Looks like we’ve sorted the problem.”

I looked into his stellar eyes and let the sound of his voice replay in my head. “I’m sure that voice of yours does the trick more often than not.” I paused a moment to imagine his voice in the dark. OMG. I shook off the thought before I did something stupid like attempt to do more than imagine it. I pulled back. “You’re missing the reality of my new situation.”

“No, I’m fully getting the picture.”

“I’m moving back to Texas in September.”

Garrett leaned back against the couch and groaned. He threaded both hands through his hair. “Well, then we have our summer sorted.”

That was the type of answer I’d expected, but I had to admit to myself, deep down, I’d dreamed that he’d sit up and say we’d make it work. I guess that only happens on the big screen. “That’s how it is.” My phone rang out Evan’s ringtone again, a welcome distraction. “He wants to come see me.”

“Why would you pick up with someone you already dumped? That’s last spring’s news.”

“I’m not; he just wants to drive down and see me because he found out I’m in California for the summer. He saw me on a commercial for
Scoop Out
. He doesn’t even care that it’s like twenty hours. How crazy is that?”

“Screw that, he’s not staying with us.”

“Why would he? Evan has his own money. He’ll get a hotel.” That was
if
I decided to respond to his texts.

“We’ll see about that.” Garrett got up and went to the bar for a drink. He held up two fingers and the bartender gave him two glasses. One of the models sidled over. Even in her high heels, Garrett had her by an inch. I bet she loved that. Garrett ignored her and turned to me. “Do you want mint in your Black Russian?”

“No, no,” I hurried over before he could ruin the ice cream-tasting mixed drink. I took it and sipped the chilled liquor. Mom sometimes tried out recipes at home and I knew more than I should about making the perfect mixed drink. This one wasn’t bad. “Ash said you Europeans don’t call drinks by nicknames?”

“We don’t. We nickname buildings. For drinks we say the ingredients.” He nodded at my glass. “Vodka and Kahlua. A Black Russian. Sometimes California rubs off on me.”

I nodded at him, took another sip, and nodded at the bartender. “This is good.”

“Thanks,” the bartender said.

Garrett moved closer, getting between us. He watched my mouth and his hand tightened on his glass. “Aye.”

“I can make a better one though.”

His green eyes sparked up. “We can try that sometime.”

“Sure, tell me some of your favorites and I’ll amaze you.”

“Aye.”

Max came over, his arm around a tall brunette who matched him in height. She had a sharp gaze and seemed to be assessing all the guys for their level of interest and all the girls for their level of competition

Sax joined us and used the bar to rap out the drumbeat on the song playing. “Let’s take the party out to the pier for a quick cruise. We’ve been cooped up inside too long.”

The model said, “Inside’s where it’s at.”

Sax paused and his eyes, lined in black eyeliner, flickered up. “I’ll let you drive my boat.”

The brunette flipped her hair. “I’ll go.”

By some unspoken group decision, all the VIPs headed toward the door. I wasn’t super keen on this part, not being much of a swimmer yet. I hung back. “Hmm.”