My Bachelor (9 page)

I shut the door. “My fault. I asked her to stay and give me some advice. Is there a problem?”

“No, no, not at all.” He nearly tripped all over himself as he spoke. “I mean after all it’s Eliot. No one more reliable and trustworthy. That’s why we chose her for the position when the guy who usually acts as bachelor butler was moved to set decoration.”

Something about the way he spoke about Eliot, as if she was just a movable piece of furniture, made me clench my jaw. Everyone in the studio was fucking clueless if they hadn’t noticed just how fantastic Eliot was. She had far more going for her than anyone else I’d met so far.

“So you needed advice?” There was a slight hitch in his voice as if he realized that his comments about Eliot had given me the fleeting urge to throw my fist at him. I needed to let it go. Eliot didn’t seem to care what any of them thought anyhow. It was just another thing that made her so damn likable.

I unclenched my jaw. “Yes, not completely sure what I’m doing. I’m not feeling any of this yet,” I said curtly, not really giving a damn if it angered him or not.

Doug took off his sunglasses and placed them over his hat. “We’ve noticed that.”

“We?”

“Kiley and I. Don’t get me wrong—today’s taping with the runaway horse—that was perfect. I have no doubt the ratings will soar after it airs.”

“It’s amazing how something that could have ended in disaster becomes a show highlight.” I walked into the kitchen and pulled out two beers and tossed one to Doug.

He looked taken aback at my sarcasm. “Obviously, it’s only amazing because it ended well. Thanks to you. Naturally, we don’t want anyone to get injured.” He opened the beer and chugged some of it back. Then he took a deep breath. “Look, we’re thrilled with the impact you’re having already. Our social media coordinator can’t keep up with everything that’s happening online, which is great. Sponsors are already upping the ante and begging for more spots. We’d like to keep that enthusiasm going all season.”

I leaned against the kitchen counter with my beer and waited for him to continue. He fidgeted with the label on the beer bottle and seemed to be trying to choose his words. I couldn’t tell if he was still nervous or just making sure to stay professional and within contract.

“Great. Sounds good.” I pushed off the counter to let him know he’d said his piece and could leave.

He didn’t move toward the door like I’d hoped. “Look, Rafe, we need way more sexual tension than we’re seeing through the camera lens. Other than the moments when you held Janelle on the horse, you don’t seem to be connecting with the contestants yet. And the lack of chemistry isn’t coming from their side. Most of the women are ready to run a gauntlet to win your heart.” His eyes lit up. “Shit, a gauntlet in the form of a tough obstacle course. Tiny shorts, skimpy tank tops, skin glowing with perspiration. Why didn’t I think of it earlier?” He pulled out his phone and recorded a quick message to himself. He finished the verbal memo and then seemed suddenly to remember that he’d been in the midst of lecturing me when his brilliant gauntlet plan struck. “Anyhow, that’s what we need to see from you.”

“I think if you’d stop controlling the conversations so much with scripts and cue cards, I’d have a chance to work up some of that chemistry.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid you don’t understand show business. The scripts help keep things moving, even on a reality show.”

I shrugged. “Fine. Then why don’t you script in some chemistry and sexual tension.”

His mouth pulled tight in anger, but it was obvious I made him nervous. “Look, we’ll keep those cameras rolling until we get what we want. No matter how long it takes. So just make sure things start moving faster.” He put his sunglasses back on and headed toward the door. “You know there are a few guys on the set who might be better as a bachelor’s assistant. I mean I can’t imagine what kind of advice you could get from someone like Eliot.”

My fingers clamped into fists, and I realized it wasn’t just the way he talked about her but the way he said her name that made me want to hit him.

I stepped forward. It shocked him enough to send him back a few steps.

“Eliot remains my assistant or you will see the sexual tension and drama on the show dry up like a fucking puddle in the desert.”

His eyes were masked by the sunglasses, but the twitch in his jaw said it all. “Listen, Rockclyffe, you’ve got a signed contract with this show, and if you don’t fulfill the requirements listed on that legal document, you can be sure this network will come after you with their hungriest lawyers. You need to start acting like the bachelor. I don’t care how. You look like the kind of badass who has fucked women from one end of the country to the other. That’s who we need to see in front of the camera. Not the polite, smiling pretty boy we’ve been watching. Got it?”

“Eliot stays?”

A nervous laugh shot from his mouth. “That’s your biggest worry? That the flustered little bookworm with her tangled nest of hair and man-sized t-shirts stays on as assistant? Fine. Eliot stays . . .” He pointed his finger at me, and I held my hands straight down to my sides to keep from breaking it off. “As long as you start spicing things up on camera.” He walked out.

I swung the door shut sharply behind him.

Chapter 11

Eliot

Considering that Sparky’s
was located on some of the most expensive commercial real estate in town, it was a bit of a dive. But the locals loved the place, wobbly wooden tables, broken floor tiles, industrial bathroom fixtures and all. It was a place I’d grown used to and a place that I never minded coming to. Ursula, the owner, had inherited the place from her dad, Charles, better known as Sparky. And she was a great boss to work for. She never got angry about a broken glass or spilled drink, and she was the first to defend her servers if a customer was rude or whiny. About the only thing that could earn you a severe scowl from Ursula’s finely penciled eyebrows was tardiness.

Tonight, the traffic lights had been on my side, and I scooted in the back door with a few minutes to spare. Ruthie, one of the servers, met me as I stepped into the break room to grab my apron. Ruthie was one of those women who was perpetually happy. Even when things were going badly, like with her recent messy breakup, she still wore a smile and whistled show tunes as she hauled drinks around the barroom. She’d only been working at Sparky’s for a few months, but her cheery personality had already earned her a league of loyal customers.

“Eli, glad you’re here. There’s a party of twenty in the back room. A group of women celebrating a divorce, apparently. Ursula gave it to me, but I’ll gladly share it with you.” She rubbed her back. “I’ve still got that pinched nerve. I’m going to the chiropractor tomorrow. I took some aspirin, but it’s not doing much.”

I finished tying on my apron. “I’ll be glad to share it with you. I don’t mind doing the heavy lifting.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll. Evan is filling up their first round right now.”

“Great. I’ll be right there.”

I pulled out a chair to sit and double knot the laces in my shoes. When things got busy and hectic in the bar, it was easy to lose track of something like an untied shoe, especially when a round tray made it impossible to notice a loose lace. I hadn’t looked up, but since I hadn’t heard the familiar squeak of the break room door, I could only surmise that Ruthie hadn’t left.

I finished my laces and stood up. Ruthie’s usual smile seemed to be holding back a burning question.

“Anything else you need?” I asked.

She took that as an opening and scurried toward me. “I know you’re sworn to secrecy, but just tell me one thing—is he as dreamy in real life as he is on my television screen?”

“Ruthie, you know I can’t say anything. But I suppose I can answer that question without compromising my position or the secrecy contract I’ve signed. He’s as dreamy as he looks.”

The other girls were always big on trying to get information out of me, even though they knew it was useless, but it seemed with this particular bachelor, even Ruthie was curious.

“Is he—”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “That’s all you’re going to get out of me, and consider even that little morsel a gift.”

Her shoulders drooped some in disappointment but then her usual smile returned. “You’re right, Eli. Shame on me for bugging you about it. It’s just that he’s so—”

“Yep, that he is.”

She laughed. “You didn’t let me finish.”

I put my arm around her shoulder as we headed out to the bar. “I didn’t need to. I could just imagine the adjectives you were thinking about by the twinkle in your eyes. Let’s go serve those drinks and hope that the divorce came with a generous settlement that will help fill our apron pockets with tips.”

The main room was already vibrating with music from the jukebox and after-work conversations from the patrons sitting around the tables and perched on barstools. The night would go fast with such a big crowd. Busy was better than slow. I could keep my second wind going as long as there were a lot of people to serve. Otherwise, the moment I slowed my pace, my body would ache for some down time. I was still fretting about not getting any studying done before tomorrow’s class. It meant I’d have to be awake before the sun to catch up. I needed to learn to say no to Rafe, but he was a hard man to turn away from. And as strong and confident as he looked, I could tell that this bachelor show was not for him.

Sometimes Simone and I were so busy, we didn’t even cross paths at home. We’d only talked through texts and those had just been about the overdue electric bill. She spotted me as I walked to the counter to pick up the party order. She hurried across the room carrying a tray filled with empty glasses. “Don’t forget you’re taking my shift tomorrow night, El. I’ve already switched our names on the roster.”

“Right. Tomorrow night.”

I began placing the beers and glasses of wine on my tray. Just like Ruthie had done, Simone hovered nearby with an expectant look on her face.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“So?”

I stopped and blinked in confusion at her. “So?”

“I know it’s top secret, but what’s he like? I suppose he’s a complete asshole. Guys who look like that always are.” So far all the fans had seen was night one of the meet and greet event. The heroic event on horseback wouldn’t air until the weekend with a special two hour event, and I was already getting grilled about the bachelor. Last season, most of my friends and coworkers had hardly remembered that I worked for the show.

“Simone, you know I’m not allowed to talk about it.”

“He’s a jerk. I knew it,” she said confidently as she removed the dirty glasses from her tray.

“I didn’t say that.”

Her eyes popped up. “Ah ha, so he’s not. I knew it.”

“You just said the opposite.”

“Yeah, I did that to get you to talk.” She winked. “Maybe I should go into law school after all. Besides, I had an inside track on his personality. Ursula and Hannah claim that he used to come in here to have beers. They said he was a real nice guy and just as amazing in person as on screen.”

“Great, then I can forgo any more interrogation from my coworkers. You won’t get another word from me on the subject unless I talk in my sleep, and I haven’t done that since I was ten years old.” I zipped my lips and picked up the tray.

“I’m just glad he’s not a jerk,” she called loudly enough to get the attention of two of our coworkers. Hannah and Kate both nearly knocked each other down in their attempt to circle me.

“Uh, heavy tray, guys,” I said as I tried to maneuver around them.

“You’re talking about the bachelor, aren’t you?” Hannah shot a smug grin at Kate. “Told you so.” She turned back to me as I attempted to move past them. “We used to call him Outlaw on account of the tattoo on his arm.” She motioned toward Kate with her head. “Eliot can confirm that he has it written on the side of his arm.”

“Not confirming anything. You’ll just have to watch the show.” I took a gap between several customers lingering in front of the counter. Footsteps trotted along the wood floor behind me. Hannah came up next to me. “Remember that girl, Mia, who used to work here? She quit just a few months after you were hired.”

I kept moving forward with my heavy tray and she kept up, as if I had an interest in the conversation. I sighed loudly, but she didn’t get the hint. “Yes, Mia, with the size twenty three waist, as she liked to tell everyone she met. I remember her. Since you’re following me, grab a pile of napkins off that table, would ya?”

She took a detour past the empty table, swept up a pile of napkins and caught back up to me. “Well, she and this server named Patty used to fight over that man. Almost came to blows once in the backroom. Ursula had to step in and stop the fight.”

“Maybe he was a great tipper,” I suggested cheerily.

She laughed. “Oh, that he was, and more. The man’s a player, left, right and everywhere in between. Should be an interesting show this season.” Hannah had followed me all the way to the back room but stopped short of helping me get my heavy tray to the table.

I glanced back over my shoulder. She was already scurrying back through the crowded bar. I quickly brushed off her words. It was silly, but I didn’t want to think of Rafe as a player, a guy who couldn’t commit to anything but a good time. He seemed so much deeper than that. But then he probably only showed that confident, thoughtful side to
safe
women. Female chums, like me. God, I was learning to hate that four letter word
chum
.

It was going to be a long night. In fact, something told me it was going to be a long two months. And in the midst of it all, I had to keep my own feelings about America’s newest bachelor in check.

I was relieved to leave behind my curious coworkers and serve drinks in the back room, a space that we kept open for large groups. The women were already in full party mode when I walked in. They’d even brought gifts for the new divorcee, who looked as if she was ready to float away on a cloud of happiness. The tray of drinks made them that much louder. Ruthie had taken the time to drop a pink napkin in front of the women who’d ordered wine and a green one in front of the ones who were drinking beer.

I lowered my tray onto the side table and began handing out the drinks.

“Oh my gosh,” one of the women blurted suddenly over the rim of her wine glass, “who here is watching Sealed with a Kiss?”

A round of squeals made their way back and forth across the table. “Rafe Rockclyffe,” a woman cheered as I set a beer down in front of her. “That’s his name. I’m thinking about getting it tattooed on my ass.” Laughter shook the room.

“Hey, Barbara, too bad your divorce didn’t come sooner. You could have tried out for the show,” one of the women suggested between sips of wine. “He’s a damn sight better than your ex.”

Barbara, the guest of honor, laughed. “A damn sight better? Hell, James isn’t even in the same species as the bachelor—what’s his name? Rafe? Even his name makes me horny.” They lifted their glasses in a toast to the new bachelor.

I picked up my empty tray and walked out to serve my other tables. I couldn’t keep from smiling. Rafe Rockclyffe. The poor guy had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

My phone vibrated in my apron pocket. Ursula, being the kind boss she was, had allowed me to keep my phone with me. She knew my sister was in a wheelchair and that my mom wasn’t exactly a kickass caretaker. I put down the tray and pulled the phone discretely from my pocket. It was Jackson. He knew I was working, so it was strange for him to be calling. I dashed into the back supply closet and answered.

“Hey, I’m working. What’s up?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.”

“No time for puzzles, Jackson. You called. Why? And make it fast.”

“Yeah, yeah fast. That’s your only mode, sweetie. Fast. Anyhow, I got a call from Leo in security. He said the boss, the man boss, not the lady boss, asked for him to stay on late tonight as if he had some kind of premonition that something might happen up at the bachelor’s house.”

I shuffled through the office supply shelf for a new order pad. “O.K. and what should I do with that information?”

Jackson grunted. “Well, what do you think? You’re the one who left the bachelor house after your work hours. I thought maybe our bachelor was hatching some kind of plan. I heard rumors Doug was complaining that there wasn’t nearly enough heat on set. You’ve got the inside scoop being the bachelor’s butler. Is it true? Did Doug tell him to make something censor-worthy happen?”

“I have no scoop other than our bachelor is feeling a little lost. Rafe was nice enough to allow me to hang out there because it’s closer to Sparky’s than my apartment. How do you know I left late?”

He huffed in annoyance. “I told you, I was talking to Leo. He saw you drive out of there just after seven and just before Doug drove up to the house to talk to Rafe.”

I heard Ursula’s deep voice roll down the hallway. She was heading to the closet. I picked up a new order pad.

“Doug drove past me but I didn’t know he was visiting Rafe.” The door to the supply room creaked. “I’ve got to go, Jackson.” I hung up and shoved the phone in my pocket. I held the new order pad up triumphantly as if it took me hours to find one and slipped past Ursula.

“How do you like Outlaw? Mr. Rockclyffe?” she asked quickly.

“No real opinion, Ursula,” I replied with a wink. “It’s just my day job.” I walked back down the hallway and into the crowded bar. I had no idea why Doug had decided to drive up and see Rafe. It wasn’t something Doug did often. I wondered briefly if I would be in trouble for staying late, but I brushed that off. It wasn’t unheard of for the bachelor’s assistant to stay late. But his request that the head of security and house camera crew stayed on late was unusual. Jackson was right. Something was up.