Читать книгу Win, Lose...Or Wed! - Melissa McClone, Melissa Mcclone - Страница 6

Six months later…

HADN’T she learned her lesson the first time?

Standing on the granite plaza of San Francisco’s Union Square with the statue of the goddess Victory looming over her, Millie couldn’t believe she was doing this again. She shifted from foot to foot, trying to tap down her nervousness. She needed to pay attention to Pete Kenner, producer of Cash Around the Globe, the reality TV show she’d agreed to appear on.

Appear?

That’s what the casting director had called it, but if things went Millie’s way, she would spend the next thirty days racing around the world with a cameraman and sound guy at her side. Anxiety crept down her spine.

You know they will want you to jump out of an airplane or climb a mountain. Neither of which you have the courage to do.

Her father’s words rushed back. He’d called her a coward, saying she was too soft and introverted to compete let alone win. What if he was right?

“You can only use the credit card for air travel,” Pete explained. With his coiffed blond hair, tanned skin and smart clothing, he looked more like a model in Maxim than the head honcho for the network’s most promising new show. “You will purchase tickets for yourself and your camera crew. You must remain with your crew at all times—24/7. Attached at the hip. Unless you use the rest room or shower.”

Did rain showers count? Millie wondered. Mist pelted her cheeks, the dreary June weather adding to her growing apprehension. Doubts surfaced. Her father had predicted she would be the first one eliminated. She could easily make as big a fool of herself on this show as on…

Stop.

Think positive. Be confident. She could do this.

She would prove her father wrong.

So what if she had vowed never to step in front of another television camera again? Millie wasn’t a reality TV contestant junkie. She was only doing the show to help her students at Two Rivers Elementary School. Whatever money she won would go directly to her school to keep upcoming budget cuts from affecting the students. The show’s participation fee had already saved the after school track and field program she’d founded and coached for special needs students. That alone made up for whatever the show put her through over the next month.

And if she kept saying the words over and over again, she might come to believe them.

As Millie zipped her fleece-lined blue windbreaker to the top, she tried to remember her cameraman’s name. Zack? Zeke? And her sound guy. Ron? Maybe Ryan?

Names usually stuck with her, but right now her mind was as blank as a chalkboard on the last day of school. Not a good thing when the two guys would be filming and recording everything she said and did.

“Bathroom breaks won’t give us a lot of privacy,” an older woman said. Her jacket resembled Millie’s except for the orange color. Each contestant had been assigned a color and given clothes to wear during the race. Even their backpacks, lying on the other side of Union Square, coordinated to their colors.

Pete’s bright white teeth contrasted with his dark tan. “There’s no such thing as privacy on a reality television show.”

Millie caught herself nodding. She didn’t want to appear to be a know-it-all even if she was the only former reality TV contestant on the show.

A passing car honked its horn. Men in three-piece suits and women in raincoats stared at the lights and cameras. A construction worker yelled, asking if they were filming the new season of The Amazing Race.

No. Oh, no. That was one show she wouldn’t want to be on. Relying on a partner, a teammate, to win or lose didn’t appeal to Millie in the slightest. Cash Around the Globe would be different. Better. Or she would never have agreed to do it.

“Any questions?” When no one spoke up, Pete clapped his hands. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Millie took a deep breath, the cold June air chilling her lungs. Goose bumps prickled her arms and legs.

A red light glowed on the cameras. Show time. She pasted on a smile, resigning herself to the role she would play until she was eliminated from the race or crossed the finish line.

Colt Stewart, with war correspondent good looks and a charming smile, stepped forward. “I’m going to be your host during the race around the globe. Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?”

“Yes,” Millie said along with the other contestants.

“I didn’t hear you,” Colt said. “Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?”

The contestants shouted a hardy, “Yes!”

Colt flashed an even wider toothpaste ad smile at the cameras. “Welcome to Cash Around the Globe. This is the most exciting, most adventurous, most dangerous race you’ll see on television. You won’t want to miss a single episode.”

By the time the race finished airing next season, her life would—she crossed her fingers—be back to normal. No more marriage proposals from strangers. No more early morning phone calls from talk show hosts. No more reality TV.

“Racers, prepare yourself,” Colt yelled.

The contestants around Millie postured themselves for the best possible start. She did the same. A clanging rang out, the sound of a cable car bell. Ding. Ding. Ding.

“Go,” Colt shouted.

Two guys, one in black, the other green, sprinted to the line of backpacks. Millie ran after them, adrenaline rushing through her veins. She would not fall behind. All the softness had been driven out of her. She was ready this time.

Ten feet from her blue backpack, she noticed a round zippered pouch with a globe imprinted on the front. Inside she found thirty dollars and a small key on a chain and a clue card.

“Make your way to Coit Tower,” Millie read for the camera’s sake. “You must travel via public transportation. Look for the green and blue flag. There you will find your next clue and something to take with you on the race.”

Take with her? Her excitement swelled. A GPS unit would be great. Useful. Millie reread the clue.

“Coit Tower?” She’d never been to San Francisco before, but had heard of the landmark. Heart pounding, she surveyed the buildings around her. High-end department stores, boutiques and hotels. She saw a uniformed security guard and ran to him. “Could you please tell me where to catch the bus to Coit Tower?”

The guard led her to the bus stop. “Take the 30 or 45. Grab a transfer ticket when you board. Get off at Washington Square. Take the 39 to the top of Coit Tower. You can walk, if you’d rather, but it’s a steep climb.”

“Thank you,” she said as the 30 bus pulled to the curb with a squeal of breaks.

The bus passed through Chinatown and North Beach also known as Little Italy. At Washington Square, she transferred to bus number 39 and rode to the top of Telegraph Hill. She exited. The camera crew followed her.

Tourists milled about the base of Coit Tower, snapping pictures. Not even the overcast skies could detract from the lovely view. Millie searched for a flag, but came up empty. She hurried up the steps to the tower’s entrance.

Inside the circular lobby, Millie found colorful murals, but no clue box. That meant she had to go up. She disliked—okay, hated—heights, but purchased three tickets from the gift store anyway. With the camera crew and two students from Brazil, she crammed into a small elevator.

At the top, the doors opened, and everyone spilled out. She climbed a winding staircase to the upper viewing area. A breathtaking panoramic view of jutting skyscrapers greeted her through arched windows, but she stayed far away from the edge.

Millie stared for a moment feeling so much like a small town girl in the big city. And then she remembered…the race. Self-preservation kicked in. She located a blue and green banner flapping in the breeze.

“There’s the clue box.” A lock, however, kept her from opening it. “Good thing I have a key.”

Millie stuck her key in the hole, but the lock wouldn’t open. She tried again. “Why isn’t this working?”

She took a closer look. “Two holes.”

Millie inserted her key in the other hole. No luck. Fear pulsed through her veins. If she couldn’t open the box to get a clue, she would be eliminated. Over her dead body.

Leaving the key in the lock, she examined the clue box. “What am I missing?”

“This,” a male voice said from behind her.

She turned. A dangling silver key caught her attention. Millie focused on the man holding it.

Jace Westfall.

The air rushed from her lungs. No. He couldn’t be here. With her. Now.

She felt wobbly, off-kilter as if she were standing on the top of a mountain or a tall tower that, Millie realized, she was. She struggled to breathe, but managed only a few gasps of air.

Falling.

That’s all she could think about.

She was going to fall. Fail. Again.

Millie thought she had prepared for everything. But not for this. No way could she have prepared for this. For him.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded ragged. Well, she felt ragged. But losing control would only give the show what they wanted. Drama. Obviously they had arranged for Jace to meet her here.

He waved the key. “Bet this opens the lock, Freckles.”

Millie winced at his use of the endearment. She couldn’t answer. She didn’t want anything to do with him. If he were the last man on Earth, she would gladly die a virgin. She gnawed on the inside of her mouth.

A second cameraman, one she didn’t recognize, moved closer.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“You okay?” Jace asked quietly with a quick concerned look.

Millie wished he’d stop pretending. His compassion was nothing more than an act. He only cared about how he would be portrayed on camera. She wouldn’t be taken in by his good looks and charm again.

Yes, she might have been heartbroken the night of the Groom finale, but she’d quickly realized everyone had gotten carried away on the show. Nothing, not even her feelings, had been real. “I’m fine.”

She stared at his jacket and his pants. They matched the ones she wore. Why would he be wearing…?

The answer hit her like a shot put to the head. The clue had said she would find something to take with her on the race. Jace wasn’t only here to give her the key.

Millie’s heart dropped to her feet and kept right on going over two hundred feet to the ground below. Splat. “You’re a contestant on Cash Around the Globe?”

He nodded once, his jaw tight.

She cringed, feeling duped. Used. Manipulated. Again. Just seeing Jace once made her nauseous. She couldn’t imagine seeing him day after day during the race. “I can’t believe you did this. You set me up.”

“This wasn’t my idea.” Jace inserted his key and unlocked the clue box. “The producer, Pete, said there would be game twists, but I never expected to see you again.”

Never wanted to see her again, Jace meant.

She felt a familiar sting.

“I didn’t expect you, either.” The words rushed from her mouth. Millie didn’t want him to think she played a part in this. She couldn’t bear him to suspect she might still harbor feelings for him. “I was hoping for a GPS unit.”

“Maybe we’re jumping to conclusions.”

Please, oh please, let them both be wrong. “Maybe.”

He opened the box. “There’s only one clue pouch in there.”

“So we’re either in last place or…”

“Or they sent racers to different locations.” He finished the thought for her.

Once she had taken his ability to complete her sentences as a sign of how close they were, how much in tune. She knew better now.

“So what does the clue say?” she asked.

Jace opened the clue pouch and pulled out a card. “Congrats on teaming together to find your second clue. Working together will be the key to your continued success in the race. The two of you are now teammates, one of eight teams competing for the cash. Using public transportation, make your way to the Marina Green to find your next clue. You don’t want to come in last and go home empty-handed!”

So much for maybe.

“Teammates,” she said.

A muscle twitched at his neck. He nodded. “Teammates.”

Just great. Six months later, and Millie was right back where she started. Standing in front of Jace Westfall for the world to watch and critique. She bit back a sigh. Whining or moping wouldn’t change anything. Unfortunately.

“So what do we do now?” she asked.

He consulted the clue. “Find a bus.”

“No, I meant…” Millie struggled for words, aware of the camera aimed at her face. She had to get over the intrusive cameras, the way she had on The Groom, or she wouldn’t survive long. At least the network hadn’t discovered a way to tap into her mind and broadcast her inner most thoughts. No, they just edited her actions and words so everyone watching assumed they knew everything about her. What she thought, how she felt, who she loved…“What do we do about…us?”

Jace’s eyes were wary. “What do you want to do?”

Quit.

But she couldn’t. So many children needed her to win this race. She thought about Bonnie, the petite little girl with Down syndrome who loved princesses and running the hundred yard dash, and Samuel, the gentle eight-year-old boy with Autism who was also a math wiz and javelin thrower. Each one of Millie’s students was a special, precious gift. She had learned so much from them, more than she’d taught them.

“I guess—” she straightened her shoulders “—I want to win a million dollars.”

It was only for thirty days, she told herself, as she climbed down the steps to the elevator. She could survive anything for a month.

Even Jace Westfall.

And then she wanted never to see him again.

What do we do about us?

Millie’s earnest question sliced through Jace’s pretense of composure. He jabbed his finger at the elevator button. He only wished he knew.

Competing on Cash Around the Globe was supposed to save his company and his family, but now…

Jace gazed down at Millie, who rested with her eyes closed against a mural covered wall. He couldn’t believe she was here, but knew he wasn’t dreaming. Not with the subtle changes he couldn’t have imagined.

Her trademark ponytail was longer though the ends still curled in familiar wisps. She’d lost weight though her curves were all too visible in her warm-up suit. Her eyes seemed to be a deeper green than before.

Some things hadn’t changed like those damn freckles on her face that he’d always wanted to trace with his finger.

A part of him was happy to see her.

That wasn’t good.

I want to win a million dollars.

He’d never expected to hear those words from sweet, adorable Millie.

What was she doing here? Her father was loaded. She didn’t need the money. Not the way Jace and his family did.

The show’s generous participation fee and the one million dollar prize had overcome his reluctance to step in front of the cameras and be humiliated again. But with Millie involved he was suddenly rethinking everything. Jace didn’t like that. Once he made a decision he stuck with it.

Not her fault, he reminded himself.

“Do you want some water?” Jace asked.

Millie’s eyelids sprang open. Wounded green eyes stared at him. “No. Thanks. I’m fine.”

Yeah, right. Less than an hour into the race, Millie looked liked she’d dragged herself halfway around the globe already. Her skewed backpack was ready to topple her slender frame at any moment. She couldn’t stand up straight.

This race would chew her up and spit her out. He didn’t want to see her hurt again.

“I’ll carry your pack,” he said.

She adjusted the straps, straightening the backpack. “I’ve got it.”

But she didn’t. Not really. That put him in an awkward position.

From the first day Jace had met her, he’d felt drawn to her. She was kind and insightful and smelled like grapefruit. But the more he got to know her, the more he realized how different their lives were. How different they were. Sure, she was an incredible woman, but she wanted more from a relationship than he could give her. He’d saved them both a lot of pain by not choosing her at the end of The Groom.

Still he liked her and appreciated her wanting to win, but he had to be realistic. She, like his mother and sisters, was the kind of woman who needed to be coddled, cared for and protected. He didn’t want to take on vulnerable Millie, too.

Maybe that’s what the producers had in mind, pairing up opposites and seeing how they would get along or not. He could only imagine how this “twist” would be used once filming finished. The editing room was where hit reality television shows happened. He’d learned that lesson on The Groom and wasn’t about to make the same mistakes again.

That was why Jace wanted—needed—a different partner.

He needed a teammate who would meet challenges head-on, never give up and do whatever it took to win the million dollar first prize. Jace couldn’t afford to lose.

He stabbed the down button again. “What’s taking so long?”

“It hasn’t been that long,” she murmured.

The elevators opened as if on cue.

He and Millie entered followed by the two camera crews. The doors closed, making it a tight fit with the backpacks and production gear, and the elevator descended.

Tension filled the static air. Darting glances, unspoken words, an uncertain future. The first two things didn’t bother Jace, but the third needed to be dealt with. Now.

“You know, Freckles, the show will be challenging,” he said, mindful of the cameras mere inches from them. “You can always stop if you think the race will to be too much for you.”

“I can handle the race,” Millie said as if she were discussing a parent-teacher conference and not a race around the world. “The clue said working together was the key to success.”

Success wouldn’t cut it. Jace had to win to put the money back into his struggling money management firm. His family relied on him for their paychecks and pretty much everything else. He wouldn’t let them down. “I came here to win.”

She raised her chin. “So did I.”

“I’m not going to lose.”

“Neither am I.”

She still didn’t get it. He had to make her understand. Hell, he needed her to quit.

“I trained for this.” He’d trained as if his life depended on this race. In a way it did. If he lost, his family would pay the price. Success at all cost. That was his motto. “Trained hard.”

“So did I.” She met his gaze dead-on. “This pack is lighter than the one I wore when I trained.”

“You wore a backpack when you trained?” he asked.

“Of course, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but…” He hadn’t assumed she would take this so seriously. “You said you weren’t very organized.”

“Let’s get something straight, Jace,” she said. “I didn’t enter this race expecting to be teamed with someone, but I didn’t enter to lose, either. I plan to give a hundred and ten percent. I expect the same from my teammate. That’s you.”

Seeing her determination stirred something inside Jace. He’d never thought of Millie Kincaid as competitive. Her words, full of strength and fire, surprised him. Intrigued him. Turned him on.

Maybe he’d missed that part of her during The Groom. Maybe he’d better just forget about that part of her altogether. He was here save to his company—and his family—from financial ruin. Period.

Jace might still be drawn to Millie, but he wasn’t about to put his foot in that trap again. She expected a white picket fence future with two point three children, a dog, a cat and a minivan parked in the driveway. He wasn’t the guy to give her all that. He would only end up disappointing and hurting her.

Again.

Millie pursed her pink lips, accentuating their fullness. “So what do you say?”

He’d forgotten the question, but he remembered the first time he’d kissed her. A soft, gentle kiss full of promise during a moonlit walk along the beach. He’d thought the darkness would give them a rare moment of privacy, but watching the show when it aired he realized the cameras had caught everything.

The way they were doing now.

“Jace?” her voice rose. “You can’t rely only on your charm this time. Are you willing to give one hundred and ten percent?”

“Yes.” He might have deserved her jab, but he sure didn’t appreciate it. “As long as you’re not going to be all distracted.”

“Distracted?” Her forehead creased. “By what?”

Her clear green gaze made him shift uncomfortably. He was the one distracted. “By…you know. What happened before. We need to focus on the race to win.”

“I’m focused.” She tugged her backpack straps. “You’re the one who keeps bringing up the past.”

He cleared his throat. She was right. Damn it. “Let’s come up with a strategy then.”

“What was your strategy before?” she asked.

“Every man for himself,” he admitted.

“We’ll have to amend that or we won’t get far.” She bit her lower lip. “I have a game plan we can use.”

“You?”

“Yes, me.” Millie drew her brows together, and he could imagine her looking like that when she stood in front of the chalkboard to teach her students. “Too much is at stake to shoot from the hip.”

The elevator stopped.

“So what’s your plan?” Jace asked.

The doors opened, and the camera crews poured out.

“Run, don’t walk,” she explained. “And whatever we do, never look back.”

Jace could handle that. “Works for me.”