Читать книгу Ready for Her Close-up - Katherine Garbera - Страница 7

What had she been thinking?

Gail Little took a deep breath and walked into the makeshift hair and makeup area for the set of the reality-TV dating show Sexy and Single. She had never in her entire life thought of herself as sexy, but single … now, that was something she had buttoned up. She’d always thought she’d hook up with a guy in college, and they’d fall into a relationship as they both started their careers. Then, after three years of dating, they’d get married, but now she was staring down thirty and still alone.

“I’m Kat Humphries, the PA for Sexy and Single. I’ll also be your handler for all of your segments.”

Gail shook Kat’s hand. She’d expected to see Willow Stead—the producer of the show and one of her best friends—instead of a PA. Willow had gotten the idea to do the show when Gail had signed up with Matchmakers Inc. Though Gail had only told her friends she wanted to find a husband and didn’t meet the right kind of men at work, the truth was she wanted a family of her own and her biological clock was ticking. So she’d signed on with the dating service, never expecting her experiences would become the focus of a TV show.

Kat looked to be in her mid-twenties and wore a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a T-shirt from a bar in Mexico. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had an earpiece attached to the radio at her belt.

“Follow me,” Kat said.

Gail nodded and went with her to a bank of lighted mirrors set up against the wall. This was behind-the-scenes television that few viewers ever saw. Not very glamorous, but as the owner of a very successful PR firm, it was a world Gail knew well. Funny that she never pictured herself as the one going onstage.

“Have a seat here. The hair and makeup people are on their way. You’re a few minutes early.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to be late,” Gail said. Kat nodded, but held up one finger as she listened to something on her headset.

“Please stay in here until I come back to get you,” Kat said. “We want to capture that first moment when you and your match see each other.”

Gail wanted to groan. But she knew deep down that if she stayed in her rut any longer, her life would be nothing but work, and her dreams of a family and all that went with it would never be realized.

She stared at herself in the mirror as she waited for the hair and makeup person to arrive. Her thick, curly hair with its wild, out-of-control style framed her face. She reached up and pulled her hair back … that was how she usually wore it for work. Because let’s face it, she thought, her unruly hair didn’t scream sexy and single.

A man and woman approached her. “Hello, Gail. I’m Mona, and this is Pete. We’re going to be doing your hair and makeup. Just sit back and relax.”

Gail did just that, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. She’d wanted a man to spend her holidays with instead of being home alone, which might have been fun for Kevin in the Home Alone movies, but for her, a grown woman, it had been … lonely. She craved the perfect Christmas, for example, and images of it played in her mind like home movies. She was in the business of image and reality, so why couldn’t she create the perfect image and reality for herself?

She’d developed a PR plan to take herself from a business success to a personal success. She was very good at enacting her plans, so she had no doubt this one would work. Of course, she hadn’t expected Willow to love the idea so much that she’d turn it into a reality TV show.

“Okay, we’re done,” Mona said.

They turned her back to face the mirrors. Her thick, unruly hair had been straightened and styled to brush her shoulders. Her eyes were bigger than she’d ever seen them before. Her lips were so large and perfect. She’d had no idea a little lipstick and eye shadow could make her look like this. She didn’t recognize herself.

“What do you think?” Pete asked.

“I don’t look like me,” she said.

“Sure you do, honey. Just not the you that is usually in the mirror,” Mona said.

And that had been exactly what she’d wanted. “What do I do now?”

“Wardrobe,” Pete said. “Your dressing room is over there.”

She walked over to the tiny dressing room in the corner. There was a woman sitting there reading a paperback book—one that Gail had just finished. This was the life she was used to, and Gail felt as though she could just sit here for a few minutes. The woman put the book down and smiled at her. “Looking good.”

“Thanks.”

Gail had the feeling that Alice must have experienced when she fell down the rabbit hole, because twenty minutes later she stood in front of a full-length mirror in a couture gown by Jil Sander. The well-fitting top came to a V, revealing her cleavage, while the peplum skirt gave her hips a flattering fullness, hitting her midthigh. She looked sexy and glamorous, two things she’d never felt before.

Kat came back and signaled that it was time to go. Gail realized her hands were sweating and started to wipe them on her skirt but stopped—this gown cost more than her entire wardrobe. She was going to mess this up. No matter how much magic these stylists had done to her outside, inside she was still the woman who’d spent all of her time working. She had no idea how to make real small talk. This was a mistake.

“Two minutes until you will go into the ‘confessional,’ then it’s down to the ballroom, where you will meet your date, Ms. Little,” Kat said.

Gail was nervous. And that wasn’t like her. She wasn’t the type of woman who let anything stand in her way once she’d made up her mind.

A tech guy in black pants and a polo shirt came over and attached a microphone to her collar. She should approach this the same way she approached a client at her PR firm who needed more exposure. She’d smile and pretend the glam woman staring back at her in the mirror was who she really was.

She stood up and walked over to the entrance to the small room that had been made out of moveable walls and pipe and drapes. No privacy at all. But then, that was reality television.

“Just push the button and start talking. Don’t worry—if you mess up, just start over. We’re going to edit it,” Kat said.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Tell us what you are thinking before you meet your match.”

She stepped into the room and walked over to the camera. She sat down in front of it and pushed the record button. There was a small monitor where she could see herself, which just made her uncomfortable, so instead she stared into the lens of the camera.

“Let’s see…. I’m Gail Little and I own a public relations firm. I am beyond nervous.

“That’s it. I signed up with Matchmakers Inc., because I didn’t want to let another year go by without meeting someone. I work all the time and don’t meet many single men in my job,” she said. Then she took a deep breath. She was rambling.

“I’m anxious to find out more about the man that has been picked for me.” She pushed the stop button and got up and walked out of the room.

She’d done the best she could. She turned resolutely to walk back to the makeup area. “All done?” Kat asked.

“Yes.”

“This way, then. Your date is waiting for you.”

They stepped into the hallway and the soundman checked her microphone. “Bob is the cameraman who will be shooting you. He will be in front of you as we enter the ballroom. Don’t look at Bob. Instead, look toward the table where your match is waiting.”

“Okay,” she said. Bob waved at her from the end of the hallway.

“Walk toward Bob and then enter the ballroom. It’s been set up for an intimate dinner for two. As soon as we are out of the shot, I will signal you. Just start walking.”

Kat and the soundman joined Bob at the end of the hall, and it felt like an eternity before she was given the signal to go. She walked down the hallway, feeling silly that they were taping her walking. But she forgot about that when she stepped into the ballroom.

There were a few production people in the room as well as a man who stood with his back toward her. But she was distracted when Jack Crown stepped in front of her.

“Hello, Gail,” he said.

Jack Crown was gunning to beat out Ryan Seacrest for hosting the most shows on TV and was obviously the host of this one. He’d been an all-state athlete in high school and then went on to win the Heisman Trophy in college. He’d been a first-round draft pick and then suffered an agonizing injury in his very first professional football game. But he’d smiled up at the cameras and just shrugged his massive shoulders saying that America hadn’t seen the last of him, and he’d been right. He started showing up on television regularly hosting reality shows for the Discovery Channel.

“Hello, Jack,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m the host of the show. I’ll be chatting with both of you at the end of your dates.”

“Okay,” she said. “Now?”

“No, we want to see how you both react to meeting each other,” he said, stepping away. Her date had large, strong shoulders that tapered down to a lean waist, which she could see because he wore a well-fitted jacket.

“Stop,” Willow, the producer, said, her voice loud in the quiet of the room. It was funny because Gail had never been at work with Willow before, and the booming voice didn’t sound like her friend’s. “You are going to see each other for the first time in just a moment. I want you both to look at each other and not the cameras. Kat, move her into position.”

Kat directed Gail to a spot that was marked on the floor with tape. Gail stood so close to her match that she could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne. And she noticed his thick hair was a brown color with shots of golden-blond in it.

“We’re ready to shoot now. Please turn and face your match,” Willow said.

The man turned and Gail’s breath caught. Then her heart sank. It was billionaire New Zealand hotelier and nightclub owner Russell Holloway. She recognized him from his constant exposure on TV and in magazines. He couldn’t be her match. Surely this was a joke. He was a playboy with a reputation as a love-’em-and-leave-’em guy. Why would he go to a matchmaker?

Gail met the full force of Russell’s gray gaze. His eyes were bright and intense, staring down at her. He didn’t look as debauched as he should, she thought. He looked tanned, fit and healthy … too damned good for someone as bad as he was rumored to be.

“Gail Little,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Dumb. Was that really the only thing her mind could come up with?

Russell laughed as he took her hand and kissed it. “Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound promising. I know precious little about you, but I look forward to hearing your story from your own lips.”

She licked her lips and stared up at him. Her eyes tracked down his face to the sharp blade of his nose and then the full, sensual mouth underneath. Lips … the word echoed in her mind, and all she could do was stare at his. She gave herself a mental shake. She wasn’t going to be the latest to fall for this charming playboy. He was messing up her plans, and there was nothing fun about that.

Russell Holloway wasn’t sure what type of woman he’d expected to be matched with, but he knew he hadn’t anticipated Gail Little. She was beautiful, with her thick black hair brushing her shoulders and her big brown eyes that tempted him to get lost in them. Her figure was curvy and generous. If he were honest, she was exactly what he wanted physically. And she was classy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met a woman like her.

“I’m Russell Holloway,” he said, though he could tell she recognized him. She’d said that she’d heard of him.

“I know.” Then she shook her head. “Despite how it may seem, I’m usually a bit wittier.”

He chuckled. “First meetings can be a bit nerve-racking.”

“Yes, they can.”

She stared up at him and then flushed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing and let me enjoy the view. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

“I don’t know about that. Should we take our seats at the table?”

“Not just yet,” Russell said, linking her hand through his arm, leading her out of the ballroom and into the hallway.

He’d already arranged for the camera crew to follow them. Every detail had to go off smoothly. Russell had signed up with the matchmaking service to improve his reputation.

The Kiwi Klubs had had stagnate growth for the past two years. They had started as destination clubs similar to Club Med. Attached to each of the hotels was an exclusive A-lister nightclub where people went to see and be seen. Russell was making a profit but he wanted to try something new, and the real money in destination vacations was in families. He wanted to open a family-friendly resort, but with his reputation that was easier said than done. He had a chance to buy a well-known family vacation company but the owner was balking at selling to someone like Russell—not from a business standpoint but from a reputation-based one. So he’d decided to try to change his image.

He’d already arranged with Willow and Conner MacAfee, Matchmakers Inc.’s owner, to give Gail a preview of the Gustav Klimt exhibit that would be opening here in the Big Apple Kiwi Klub on Wednesday. As a personal friend of Russell’s, Conner had suggested participating in the show as a course of action to help Russell out.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “I think we are supposed to stay where we were.”

“Afraid to get in trouble?” he asked.

“No. I just like to follow the rules,” she said.

“I don’t.”

“Shocker,” she said.

He laughed. She gave the impression of being very sure of herself and confident. Those were traits that he’d been hoping for in his match. “Don’t fret, Gail, this side trip has been preapproved.”

“Good,” she said.

“Here we are,” he said, opening a door that led into the mezzanine atrium. The hotel area was very modern and had large expanses of open wall space with a glass dome inspired by Van Gogh’s Stormy Night. The floor was made of marble.

“This exhibit is opening on Wednesday, so we will be the first to experience it.”

When he’d approved the design, he’d specified that the atrium be used to display art. He had wanted to capture the feeling of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and replicate it here. If he was going to get families and couples into his hotels, then he needed to give them something special.

“I love Klimt’s work. I have a print of The Kiss hanging in my bedroom at home,” she said.

Russell thought it interesting that Gail had chosen that piece to hang in her bedroom. In it, the man was completely wrapped around the woman, holding her face in his hands as he kissed her neck. Klimt’s style was very sensual.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked.

She glanced up at him, a bit of shock in her eyes. “No. I don’t think so. But I’m sure you have.”

He arched one eyebrow at her. She didn’t seem to like him very much. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But then, you never have been a gentleman,” she said almost sharply.

“That’s true,” he acknowledged. “I’m not exactly the kind of man who’s been circumspect in my relationships. But that’s why I’m here.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. I’m not on this show to play games with you, Gail. I’m looking for a match just like you are.” He knew if he was going to be successful in changing his reputation, it had to start with Gail. If he couldn’t convince her he wanted to change away from his bad boy image, the viewers at home wouldn’t buy it either.

“I’m sorry if I jumped to conclusions,” she said.

“You should be,” he said, flirting with her.

The PA motioned for them to move, and Russell put his hand at the small of Gail’s back and steered her toward another framed picture. It was a portrait of a high-society woman. They stood in front of it for a long time.

“She reminds me of you,” he said. It was a sensual portrait of a fully-dressed woman with an open bodice, just starting to reveal herself to the viewer.

“Did I mention that I don’t fall for practiced lines,” Gail said.

“What makes you think that was a line?” he asked. “She’s so sexy,” Gail said.

“You are too,” he said.

Gail gave him a yeah, right look, and Russell realized for the first time that he was dealing with Gail’s future as well as his own. And though he’d decided to do this purely for business reasons, he was determined to give her the very best of himself—however little that might be.

He reached over to touch her face, but Gail drew back. Getting past his reputation was going to be harder than he’d expected. It had been too long since he’d moved in any circles other than those inhabited by his decadent friends.

“She’s mysterious like you, as well. There is more to you than meets the eye,” he said.

“And you’re all flash, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I’d like to hope not. Otherwise I’d be pretty boring.”

“Well, no one has ever called you boring,” she admitted.

Russell turned them both back toward the end of the hallway. He’d forgotten the cameras were there. He rarely let anyone distract him from his surroundings and was a bit surprised that Gail had.

“Okay, cut. Great job, you two. Jack, come on in,” Willow said.

Jack joined them, and Russell was reminded that this was definitely a TV show. Jack shook his hand and Gail’s.

“You two are doing great,” he said.

“Thanks,” Russell replied.

“Okay, we’re ready to start shooting,” Willow said from across the room.

“Now that you’ve finished your first date, what do you think of Matchmakers Inc.?” Jack asked.

“They saw what I wanted even though Gail isn’t my normal date,” Russell said. “I think that the matchmaker was very intuitive.”

“And you, Gail?”

“Well, Russell is definitely the last guy in the world I would have expected, so in that respect they found me a man I couldn’t find on my own.”

Jack laughed and then Willow called, “Cut.”

“Jack, we’ll need you to finish shooting the intro. Russell and Gail, you are free to go back to the dining room, where a crew will tape you talking and eating.” The crew started heading back in that direction.

“That should be exciting,” Gail said, turning sharply and walking across the atrium.

“What’s your hurry?” Russell asked.

“I want to talk to Willow before we film any more.”

“Why?” Russell asked.

“I just need to confirm some details with her,” Gail said.

“Are you going to try to back out of this?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Don’t take it personally, but I’m not sure that you are at all the right person for me. I’m sure that this would be interesting viewing—the whole opposites attract thing—but I want more than interesting viewing.”

She started to walk away, and Russell realized anew how hard changing his reputation was going to be. “I’m not doing this for ratings.”

She stopped and glanced back over her shoulder at him.

“Why are you doing it?”

“We all have to grow up, and I’d say it’s definitely my time.”

He saw something change in her eyes and knew he had her. She wanted to see if he really was just the playboy, or if there was something more.

“Fine. I won’t say anything to Willow until after this date. But I’m not going to make it easy on you. Finding a husband is my goal for this year, and I don’t want to waste my time with someone who clearly isn’t marrying material.”

Clearly, this wasn’t going to be as easy as Russell had hoped.