He lifted his head, and she felt cold without his mouth pressed against hers.

“One kiss … I thought it would be enough, but I want more,” he said.

She did, too, but this was Jack. And now that his mouth wasn’t on hers … She pushed away from him and he let her go, his hands trailing over her hips until they fell to his sides.

“That got out of hand,” she said.

“I don’t think so, but I guess you’re not ready for anything more,” he said.

She sensed the frustration behind his words and she felt it, too, but she wasn’t going to rush things with Jack. She still didn’t know how she felt about him, and instead of making matters clearer, this night had only served to muddle them.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t rush into this. I thought you were a shallow guy when I came here tonight,” she admitted.

“And now?”

“I’m not sure,” she said.

She wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoy this installment of the MATCHMAKERS, INC. series. Willow was the spark for the entire series. I had this image in my head, inspired in part by a production assistant I’d met when auditioning for TLC’s Four Weddings, of a woman who was clearly single but liked seeing other people get together. I started thinking about what had damaged her—relationship-wise.

I really wanted Jack to be the golden boy who seemed to have just the perfect life and always got everything he desired. So that from the outside, his life seemed the opposite of behind-the-scenes Willow, who was more comfortable talking to the world through her shows.

And as I slowly created the characters over their four stories, they really developed to me as people. I hope they have for you, too!

Happy reading!

Katherine

About the Author

KATHERINE GARBERA is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than forty books who has always believed in happy endings. She lives in England with her husband, children and their pampered pet, Godiva. Visit Katherine on the web at www.katherinegarbera.com, or catch up with her on Facebook and Twitter.

Calling All
the Shots
Katherine Garbera

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my family. I know that I thank them a lot, but without them I don’t think I’d want to tell stories with happy endings. So a big thank-you to Rob, Courtney, Lucas, Mom and Dad.

Acknowledgments

It feels wrong not to mention once again how wonderful my editor Charles Griemsman is and how much fun I have chatting with him about stories!

Thank you for your guidance and insight.

One

Most days Willow Stead loved her job. She felt very lucky to be pretty much her own boss. But not today.

The problem had actually started months ago, when the network bigwigs had pulled some strings and gotten the second most popular television host in America to work on her show. Great, right?

Not if that man was Jack Crown.

Sure, he was good-looking and charming. But beneath that toothy grin and effervescent personality beat the heart of a rogue. While his type of bad boy could be redeemed on TV or on the pages of a romance novel, in real life he couldn’t. Which was something Willow knew firsthand, having had her heart broken by this very man at the tender age of sixteen.

“Drinks, Willow, that’s all I’m suggesting,” Jack was saying with that sexy smile of his.

There was no doubting why he’d been named one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive for the past four years. But she was resistant to his appeal. Yeah, right. If only the callousness she remembered—he’d stood her up on prom night, for Pete’s sake—was enough to keep her from falling for him.

She’d done her best to keep her distance from him over the past six months as they’d worked together on Sexy & Single, the New York–based reality TV matchmaking show she was producing. But she couldn’t deny she wanted to accept his invitation for drinks.

“Um … you haven’t said no yet, so I guess you need me to talk you into it,” he said, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. “Is that what you want?”

“What I want is for you to stop acting like I’m one of your rotating harem,” she said, trying for disdain. “I’m not like all the other women that fall at your feet.”

“Ah, you’ve wounded me,” he said, clutching at where his heart should be.

“Doubtful,” she said. “But since we do need to discuss the show, I’ll accept.”

“Geez, Willow, don’t sound so eager,” he said. “There was a time when you used to enjoy being with me.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. She didn’t like being reminded of her past infatuation. God, could she have been more obvious back then? If she could write a letter to her sixteen-year-old self, she’d start it with STOP MOONING OVER JACK CROWN! and be done with it.

“I’m not that girl anymore,” she said.

“I don’t believe that,” he said. “I still see shades of her in how you act with everyone but me. Why is that? Clearly I’ve done something to rub you the wrong way.”

“Just because I’m not buying your public image doesn’t mean anything,” she said. “Gail has told me enough about PR for me to know that you can’t be America’s Sweetheart in real life.”

Gail Little was one of Willow’s best friends and had been the reason Willow had pitched the idea of this show to her bosses at the network. Gail’s personal matchmaking experience had been captured on the first episodes of Sexy & Single—her dates with New Zealand billionaire playboy Russell Holloway had really brought in the viewers. The quiet, sophisticated Gail taming the wild Russell had been ratings gold.

“Forget image. You know me,” he said. “What do you believe?”

He didn’t want to know, and there was no way she was opening that can of worms. “I don’t know you. Not really. You spend more time flying cross-country to host your other shows than here on the set with me. But that doesn’t matter. So what about those drinks?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy you dinner and drinks if you stop evading the question and tell me what’s going on. We’ve been working together for six months and I keep getting the cold shoulder from you. I must be remembering our high school years differently because I thought we’d been friends.”

“You must be,” she said. “Can we eat out without your legions of fans finding us?”

“No,” he said. “But I have an apartment that’s a short walk from here. What do you say? Want to come back to my place?”

She started to shake her head but then stopped. She did want to have dinner with him. A part of her was hoping he’d be interested in her so she could date and dump him the way he’d dumped her the night of prom. She knew it was petty and she didn’t like that about herself but she’d never been a turn-the-other-cheek person. Never.

She’d waited for the perfect moment to get her revenge. And it looked like it had arrived a mere fourteen years later … Who said that patience wasn’t rewarded?

“Okay, I’ll do it,” Willow said. Maybe she could include a little anecdote about how Jack got his comeuppance in that letter to her sixteen-year-old self.

“Good. How long until you’re done here?” he asked.

“About twenty minutes. I have to talk to the camera crew. They had a problem on the shoot last night. Why don’t you leave me the address and I’ll meet you there,” she said.

“You’re not going to back out, are you?”

“That’s not my plan. I said I’d be there.”

“Good. I thought I remembered you as a girl of your word,” he said. There was a natural confidence about him that was so attractive—too bad that she hated it. She wanted to see some cracks in the facade of America’s Sweetheart. She wanted to see that life threw him curveballs once in a while.

“Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“Women don’t like to be referred to as girls,” she said.

“My bad,” he said with a wink.

“You’re about to have an epic fail if you do it again.”

He laughed as he turned to walk away. She couldn’t help staring at his fine backside until he disappeared through the door.

“Looks like hell might be in danger of freezing over,” Nichole Reynolds said as she approached Willow.

“Shut up,” Willow said to her other best friend. Nichole was the pop culture reporter for America Today, the national newspaper, and wrote a behind-the-scenes blog for the show. And she was one of the few people who knew the truth about Jack.

“Just saying. And you should be nicer to me, I’m about to be a mommy,” Nichole said, patting her baby bump.

She had recently married Conner MacAfee, the owner of the matchmaking service featured on the show, and was expecting her first child. Nichole was truly happy with Conner, and Willow was glad for her friend.

“I have to be nice because you’re pregnant?” Willow asked. The truth was there were two people in the world that Willow really cared about, and Nichole was one of them.

“It wouldn’t hurt. So did I hear correctly—you’re having dinner with Jack Crown? What happened to wanting revenge on him?” Nichole asked.

“I still do,” Willow admitted. “It’s just dinner. Even I’m not so irresistible to make a man fall for me that quickly.”

Oh, God, where had that come from? She wasn’t that girl anymore. The one who’d been so happy that a popular boy had smiled at her.

“Oh, Willow, don’t sell yourself short,” Nichole said with a cheeky grin. “He is definitely interested in you.”

“For now. It’s just because I’ve been ignoring him. I bet if I let him woo me tonight, he’d lose interest,” Willow said.

“I’ll take that bet,” Nichole said.

“What?”

“I bet he won’t lose interest in you,” Nichole said. “What do you want to wager?”

“Nothing. I’m not really betting on Jack,” Willow said.

“Why not? You said he was shallow. What have you got to lose?” Nichole asked.

Her pride. What if she fell for him a second time and had to watch him walk away again? She didn’t want to be the loser in a relationship with him—twice. “I was being flip.”

“No, you weren’t. Come on, I’ll bet you a spa day at Elizabeth Arden Red Door,” Nichole said.

“No fair, you know I love that place,” Willow said. “Why are you insisting on this?”

Nichole wrapped her arm around Willow’s shoulder. “You can’t trust any man because of that one incident with Jack so long ago. I want to see you healed from that so you can find a guy and settle down like Gail and I did. We’re happy and we want you to be, too.”

She hugged her friend back. A part of her wanted that, too. “I just want him to feel the pain I felt.”

“I don’t care what the outcome is as long as you can move on,” Nichole said.

“Okay, I’ll take the bet. But you’re going to lose and I’m going to gloat,” Willow said.

“Fine by me, but if he stays interested in you, then I win, and I’m going to save my spa day until after the baby comes.”

“Fair enough,” Willow said. “But they’ll be ice skating in hell before I fall for Jack Crown.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Nichole said. “It will make my victory that much sweeter.”

November in New York had a certain excitement to it. Not that the City ever lacked energy but there was something about this time of year when everyone and everything seemed to be gearing up for Christmas.

For Jack, it was the beginning of one of his busiest times of the year. He had three holiday specials that needed to be filmed—they were all live tapings. Plus a year-end recap show of Extreme Careers, his series that was otherwise already in the can. His agent was on him about his next big gig and Jack knew he was moving into another phase of his career. Finally he didn’t have to drum up work—producers and networks were coming to him.

Since he was so busy it didn’t surprise him that this was when Willow finally accepted a date with him. It was just like her to make his life a little crazier. But then maybe that was why he’d been asking her out.

Jack looked around his apartment, making sure every detail was perfect. It wasn’t so much that he was nervous—hey, he was Jack Crown and every woman wanted to be with him—but this was Willow. He couldn’t say for sure when he’d become so obsessed with her.

He suspected it was because unlike every other girl he met, she just … treated him like he was part of her crew. No special smiles, no attempts to get him alone. He knew that shouldn’t bother him. But it did.

He had faint memories of her from high school when she’d tutored him in language arts so he wouldn’t fail the state test and could continue to play football. But that was all. Just flashes of a younger Willow interspersed with his football-playing days.

Back then football was his life. Considering he’d grown up in Texas on the poorer side of town, there was only one real ticket out of poverty for him—sports. He’d gone on to be a Heisman Trophy–winning wide receiver and then a first-round draft pick for the New York Giants. Unfortunately, his first time-out he’d been brought down by a career-ending tackle. He’d learned after his injury that he was going to have to find something else to do and quick. Luckily he’d always had an affinity for being on camera and had been able to segue into a broadcasting gig.

The buzzer rang and he hurried over to answer it. His converted loft building had a state-of-the-art security system. When he hit a button, a small black-and-white screen showed Willow standing at the outside door.

He buzzed her in and then glanced around the apartment to make sure everything was in order. He didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that Willow wasn’t going to give him another chance at getting this right. This working date had to be perfect.

There was a knock on the door and he smiled to himself as he crossed to open it. He planned on knocking her socks off and ensuring that when she left his apartment—preferably in the morning—she’d be dying to see him again.

Willow had an earthy sensuality about her that made him more aware of her sexually each time they met. At first, he’d just wanted to rekindle their old friendship, but as she’d continued to ignore him, she’d awakened something primal inside of him. He suspected an affair with Willow would affect their working relationship, but at this point he knew his ego would settle for nothing less than having her. He needed to prove to both of them that she’d made a mistake by ignoring him.

He opened the door and Willow scowled up at him. She looked tired and thin, something he hadn’t noticed when they were on the set or even in the editing booth. She always moved with so much energy, but tonight she seemed worn out.

Not exactly the right mood he needed her in. But he’d grown up with a single mom and had learned early on how to cheer her up with a lot of attention. So he shifted gears in his head.

He pulled her close for a hug, rubbing her back. But she wedged her arms between them. “What are you doing?”

“You looked like you needed a hug,” he said, stepping back and leading her into his apartment. It wasn’t overly luxurious like the apartment they’d photographed him at for Architectural Digest a few months back. He couldn’t live like that. He supposed it was the small-town Texas boy in him but that kind of opulence made him feel out of place.

His loft was an open floor plan with a kitchen at one end and a huge entertainment area on the other. That was one thing he didn’t mind splurging on. There were large comfortable couches as well as a nicely appointed dining area.

“I could use a drink,” Willow said.

“Wine, beer or something stronger?” he asked. He had a fully stocked bar, even though he wasn’t much of a drinker. He didn’t like feeling out of control. He’d learned that after a brief stint of stupidity when he’d been recovering from his knee injury and had had no job prospects.

“What kind of wine do you have?” she asked.

“Just about every kind. I endorse a vineyard and they send me a case of everything they make,” he said with a wry grin.

“That’s right. You’re everyone’s favorite ad man. I like dry white wine,” she said.

“Coming right up. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Do you want to go out on the balcony?” he asked.

“It’s cold outside,” she said.

“I have those patio heaters. You’ll be comfortable,” he said.

She nodded and turned away from him. He watched her walk slowly across his apartment before he started toward the kitchen. She was on edge and didn’t seem to be in the mood to enjoy this evening with him. If he was a different kind of man he’d give up but he was used to overcoming odds and coming out the winner. After all everyone said after his career-ending football injury that he was going to have to go back to Frisco, Texas. But he hadn’t.

He poured them both a glass of wine and headed out to the balcony. It was quiet, thanks to the glass walls that surrounded the patio area, and warm, thanks to his heaters.

“Thanks,” she said. “Sorry I was so snippy earlier.”

“No problem,” he said. He lifted his glass to hers. “To new beginnings.”

“New beginnings,” she said. “For tonight or since we met?”

Something about what she said made him realize that the past might hold the key to whatever the problem was between them. “For everything. I know I’ve changed since I left Frisco and I’m sure you have, too.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “I still love football and feel guilty if I don’t go to church on Sunday. Though the Baptist church I attend here is nothing like Prestonwood back home.”

He chuckled. No state did religion like Texas. “I know what you mean. My mom is praying for my soul since I’m usually working and don’t get to church as often as I should.”

“Sinner. You’re such a bad boy,” she said, but there was a grin on her face when she said it.

“Haven’t I always been?”

“Yes, you have. Tell me about the new Jack Crown. What haven’t I seen?” she asked.

He started to talk about himself but stopped. He wasn’t sure why but he knew that going on and on about his TV shows and his lifestyle wasn’t the right tack with Willow. “I’m not interested in that. Tell me about you. I remember in high school you wanted to be a writer.”

He saw the momentary surprise in her eyes before she masked it. She turned away from him, took another sip of her wine and then cleared her throat. “That’s right, I did, but once I got to school I realized that I’m more into telling people what to do.”

He grinned as he suspected she wanted him to. But he’d been a star athlete and had lost the ability to play his game so he knew that dreams—especially those that were held since childhood—were hard to let go of. “I’m glad it was easy for you to transition. It wasn’t for me.”

“From football?” she asked. “I saw the game where you were injured and despite everything I felt bad about what happened.”

“What do you mean despite everything?” he asked.

“Just that I wasn’t a Giants fan,” she said.

Again he sensed there was more she wasn’t saying but this was a first date so that made sense. He’d find out what she was hiding from him as time went on.

The timer on his iPod beeped and he stood up. “Dinner’s ready.”

“I think I’ll go wash up,” she said. “Can you direct me to the restroom?”

“To the left of the TV wall,” he said. “I’ll give you a tour after dinner.”

She arched one eyebrow at him. “What else would you show me except your bedroom … the entire apartment is visible?”

“I’ll show you my bedroom,” he said. “But I’ll wait until you ask to see it.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said.

“Over dinner I want you to explain why you’re so prickly,” he said.

“Just because I’m not swooning at the thought of seeing your bedroom?” she asked.

“Sort of. But you also seem to be almost angry at me and I don’t know why,” he said.

“Oh, I …”

“Not now. Go wash up and while we’re eating you can tell me. I’m very good at fixing things,” he said.

She shook her head. “Not this.”

He watched her walk away again and this time he was just as puzzled by her as the first time. He wanted her, which was why he’d been trying so hard to convince her to go out with him. But now that she was here and he realized how much of herself she kept hidden from the world … well, it just intrigued him more.

He wanted to get to know the whole Willow not just seduce her into his bed. But both objectives were looking harder than he’d thought they’d be.

There was definitely something from their mutual past that he’d done to upset her. But for the life of him he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He rarely thought of those old days now.

He got the dinner his housekeeper had prepared out of the oven and set the table for two. Willow still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom and he wondered why.

He was about to go knock on the door when she was back with a fake bright smile on her face. “Dinner smells good. I had no idea you could cook.”

“I can’t,” he said.

“Another illusion shattered,” she said.

“I never said I could cook,” he said.

“I know. It’s just that you seem like you can do everything,” she said. “All the shows and the easy charm. Life just looks really good for you.”

“It is, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. I have struggles like everyone else.”

He held her chair out and she sat down at the table. “Jack Crown isn’t like everyone else.”

“I was hoping you’d see that. I’m not like any other man you know,” he said. “But I think you meant that in a negative way. So tell me—what did I do to make you so angry?”

She swallowed hard and looked up at him with those big, dark brown eyes of hers. “Nothing. I’ve just been burned in the past by men who seemed too good to be true.”

“Get to know me so you can see that I’m exactly what you think I am.”

“That might not work in your favor,” she said. “I don’t have a positive impression of you.”

“I can work with it,” he said. He always had the feeling that she was judging him, and if there was one thing he knew about Willow it was that she didn’t pull her punches or her words. “How would you describe me?”

“Too charming for your own good,” she said.

“I can work with charming,” he said.

Two

“Not charming. Too charming,” she reminded him.

Willow hadn’t meant to reveal how she felt about Jack but she realized that she couldn’t help herself. Yes, she wanted some kind of revenge on him but she also wanted him to know how she felt. She wanted him to have a clue about her distrust of him. She almost would have said she disliked him but she knew that was a lie.

“Too charming … that can mean a myriad of things,” he said. “Do you find me irresistible?”

“Never,” she said. “You do have moments when I think I could like you but then your ego comes shining through.”

“It’s hard to be humble when I’ve got so much going for me,” he said.

It took a minute for her to get that he was teasing her. She really didn’t want to like him. It was okay to see flashes of it but she didn’t want to see that there was a real man behind the toothy grin and perfectly styled hair.

“Yeah, you got it all,” she said. “I know you’re being silly but to someone on the outside it looks like you do live a charmed life. Why would you be interested in me?” she asked. No sense in beating around the bush. It was the one thing that seemed illogical to her. He could have any woman he wanted so why her? Why now?

“Maybe because you’re a challenge,” he said.

It was the answer she was expecting but disappointing all the same. “So it’s just a game to you then?”

“Not a game. Life is too short to not go after what you want. I like you. You can be funny on the set and I see the way you really connect with the couples and with your friends and crew. I want to be a part of that.”

She didn’t know what he meant. Sure she made the time to listen to people but only because she’d learned that if she didn’t then the results they got when filming weren’t that great. “That’s just the way I work.”

“It’s more than that. I saw you holding Bella McCaw when Fiona needed someone to take care of her. And there was a look on your face….”

Fiona was a fashion designer and single mom who’d come on the show with her darling daughter, Bella Ann. She’d been matched to Alex Cannon, a games developer. They were an interesting couple who were now happily engaged.

“What look?” she asked. She always liked to believe she had a poker face that didn’t reveal what she was thinking. Wasn’t that true?

He shrugged. “It just got me to thinking that I wanted to get to know you better.”

“Are you looking to settle down with me?” she asked. If he said yes, it would really give her the ammunition she needed to bring him to his knees. But on the other hand … he wasn’t the boy she knew in high school. Maybe he didn’t deserve her vengeance.

“No,” he said. “Just want to get to know you better. For a few moments I want to be like every other man in America who has an attractive coworker and invites her out for dinner.”

“You’re never going to be like every other man in America. You know that, right?” How could he look at his life and think he could be like everyone else? He’d won a Heisman Trophy. They only gave out one a year, so that put him in an elite sportsman category. He’d been named Associated Press Athlete of the Year and played professional football before going on to be the host of some of the most popular shows on TV. He was never going to be an average Joe.

“Yes, I do, but with you I feel like I am. All the trappings of the celebrity lifestyle aren’t important to you,” he said.

“That’s true. I’ve seen the other side of celebrity,” she said.

“Me, too. We are uniquely suited for each other,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and smiling over at her.

“I don’t know.” She did know. If she played this right she could get him thinking that maybe he could have something with her. Then she’d walk away.

“Come on, how many people do you meet in this business from Frisco, Texas?” he said with that half smile of his that reminded her a little too much of the boy who’d first stolen her heart.

She put down her fork and took a sip of her wine. Revenge, she thought. She had to stay focused on what she really wanted or she was going to lose her way.

He reached over and touched her hand. A little zing shot up her arm. His touch unnerved her as much now as it had when he’d hugged her earlier. He ran his finger over her knuckles and then turned her hand over in his and traced the lines on her palm.

“I’m only asking for a chance here,” he said.

A chance. To do what? He’d said he wanted a regular relationship but had never had a chance to have that because of his celebrity.

And she wanted what Nichole had suggested. A chance to find some happiness for herself down the line. So she had to do something with Jack. Had to find a way to make peace with her past so she could trust again. And she knew now that unless he was hiding cloven hooves and the devil’s tail she wasn’t going to be able to be as coldly calculating as she’d thought she could be. She’d thought that focusing on getting back at him would be enough to protect her but maybe it wasn’t.

“A chance, eh? Just dating?” she asked. She didn’t want to admit it—even to herself—but the thought of walking away from him was beginning to fade.

“Yes, dating. It’s not going to be easy since I have to fly back and forth between the coasts all the time but I do want a chance to get to know you better. A chance to prove that there is more to me than Prince Charming.”

“I’ve never called you Prince Charming,” she said.

“Everyone knows I am,” he said with that stupid arrogant grin of his. “Let’s face it, you even said I was charming.”

Suddenly she thought it might not be too hard to hurt him if he was going to act like this. Was this the real Jack Crown? She had no idea, and she never would unless she took a chance on him.

“Fine, we can date,” she said. But as she looked into those very blue eyes of his, she couldn’t help a niggling sensation that this was a bad idea. She was susceptible to Jack. She always had been. And she knew how easy it was to fall for him.

Wanting revenge was one thing, but messing up her life at work—the one place where she was truly at home and happy—didn’t seem smart. If she was going to fool around with Jack and walk away, she had to be careful how she timed it and that she never let it interfere with work.

“Golly gee, Willow, don’t sound so excited about it,” he said.

She nodded over at him. “I’m sorry. I’d be happy to go on dates with you when the time allows.”

“That’s all I ask,” he said, tracing a random pattern on her palm before closing his fingers over it.

She knew he wanted something more from her and only if she kept her wits about her would she be able to protect herself from being hurt once again by Jack Crown.

Jack felt like he was playing a part for Willow. If he had a hope in hell of making this real, he had to stop. The problem was he no longer knew who he was. It had been his problem for a while now and while it was easy to admit to himself that he was coasting through life, it was hard to figure out how to change.

Willow was the key, he thought. Watching her on the set of Sexy & Single had been the catalyst. He did want something more from her. He wanted to feel like he was alive again. He was tired from working all the time and taking silly risks on Extreme Careers to make himself remember he was alive.

They had finished dinner and he’d cleared the table with Willow’s help. He liked having her in the kitchen because it strongly reminded him of happy days from his youth. Not one of the women he’d dated in the past year had come into his kitchen when he’d had them over for dinner.

Another thing that had set Willow apart was that she hadn’t pulled out her smartphone one time during their meal. Despite her initial reluctance to join him for dinner, she hadn’t been distracted by the outside world once she did.

He put the last of the dishes on the counter and turned, leaning back against it to watch her. She glanced over at him and he could see he’d startled her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

He felt like he had to constantly be on his guard around her. She didn’t just relax and let herself enjoy the night. She was waiting for something to happen. Something he was supposed to do, he suspected, but he had no idea what it was.

“I’m trying to figure out why you were so jumpy when I hugged you,” he said.

She shrugged. “I … I just was. No need to dig deeper.”

It was almost too easy to find out what made her tick. She gave away things he knew she didn’t mean to with her defensive attitude. She was cool and casual when he was talking about things like work but anything the slightest bit personal and she got her back up.

“There is always a reason to dig deeper with you. You are hiding so much of the real Willow beneath a facade of calmness. You never show more than a hint of what’s going on below the surface.”

“That’s because in our business only divas can get away with throwing a temper tantrum,” she said, then arched her eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that right?”

“Are you trying to say I’m a diva?”

“Not trying—I did. I wasn’t the only one who heard the dressing-down you gave Kat last week when you didn’t have an exotic fruit basket in your dressing room.”

He almost flushed at the way she said it. “I was jet-lagged and I apologized later.”

“I know. Kat’s used to dealing with those types of situations so it didn’t even faze her.”

“Some days it’s harder than others,” he said. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d behaved. It was difficult sometimes—when everyone wanted a piece of you—to remember he wasn’t entitled to any of the fame he’d gotten. He tried to remind himself that his mom would have tanned his hide if she’d been alive to witness his ogreish behavior.

“What is? Being America’s second most popular TV host?” she asked.

“You’re being flip, but my management people and network bosses look at my Q rating every day. There is a lot of pressure to stay on top,” he said. “Plus every time I step outside someone wants an autograph or to talk about my latest exploits … and I’m not complaining. I know without those people I’d be just another washed-up ball player. Still, as I said, some days it’s harder than others.”

She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I know. That’s why so many people in our business are so messed up. I bet you never thought you’d have these types of problems.”

“Definitely not. I figured I’d play football until I was thirty and then retire with my trophy wife to a large ranch in Texas Hill Country, teaching my boys how to play,” he said with a sardonic laugh. “This definitely wasn’t part of my plans.”

“Trophy wife? Why are you trying to date me then?” she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts and giving him the same hard look she gave the cameramen when they didn’t get a shot she wanted.

“I said that was my original idea of what my life would be. Things changed—I’m over thirty now,” he said. Willow sort of did fit his idea of a trophy wife, though—she was sexy as hell, successful in her own right and she knew how to make things happen.

“Yes, you are, old man.”

He liked it when she teased him. It was as if she forgot who he was outside of this apartment and she let herself relax.

“I’m not that ancient.”

“Nope, but you’ll always be older than me,” she said with a smile. Her phone twittered in her pocket and she gave him a wry smile. “I’ve got to check that. It keeps going off, which makes me think it might be urgent.”

“Go ahead,” he said. “Would you like coffee or maybe an after dinner drink?”

“Coffee would be great,” she said.

“You can go into the living room,” he said. “I’ll bring it in.”

She nodded distractedly as she pulled her phone from her pocket and read the message she’d received. He noticed that she chewed on her lower lip and her brow furrowed as she read.

He watched as she settled herself on the overstuffed leather sofa he’d ordered from Italy last year before turning to make them both a cup of coffee. He carried the cups over and placed them on the coffee table, then sat down next to her on the couch. She was still tapping out a message on her phone.

The scent of her perfume was light and floral and reminded him of spring. He stretched his arm along the back of the couch and felt the cool fall of her straight hair against his hand. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to bury his fingers in her hair, but he didn’t want to distract her. He liked being able to sit here and just watch her.

She sighed and then put her phone on the table. “Deidre is getting cold feet. She doesn’t think that Peter is right for her and has asked for another match,” Willow said.

“Can she do that?” he asked.

“I guess so. I’ve sent Mona a message to see what she can do,” Willow said.

Mona was the matchmaker at Matchmakers, Inc. who was providing all the couples at the show. Jack was surprised that this couple was having such a hard time since Mona’s instincts had been right for the other three couples that had gone before them.

Deidre Adamson was a very popular advice columnist and television talk show host who rose to fame by turning her brutal honesty on the people who came on her show. Jack liked that kind of straight shooting. She’d been matched with the famous Peter Mullen. He was wild and a bit outrageous.

“Peter must have done something that shook her,” Jack said. “I’ve been chatting with him a bit on the set. Do you want me to see if I can step in and fix this?”

Willow just stared at him for a minute. This was her headache and she was used to fixing problems on her own. “How could you help?”

“I actually know Deidre,” he said. “And I’ve had a couple of chats with Peter. My guess is that Peter said or did something that scared her.”

“Like what?” Willow asked. She was a little embarrassed to admit that she didn’t think that Jack was sensitive enough to notice anyone else, much less be aware that they had nuances.

“Well, Deidre talks tough on her show but in real life she’s very sensitive. I’m betting Peter thinks she’s tougher than she is and probably pushed her too fast.”

“You think?” Willow asked. “Deidre seems very much in control and bossy to me. I was guessing she told Peter to do something and he didn’t do it.”

“Might be. They both like to be in charge,” Jack said. “If she gets a new man, would we have to start all over again with them?”

“Yes. It would mean three weeks of wasted filming,” Willow said. “Do you know Deidre well enough to call her up and chat with her?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How do you know her? She doesn’t move in the Hollywood circles you do,” Willow said.

“She was my therapist after my accident. She was the one who helped steer me toward broadcasting.”

Willow hadn’t thought about how he’d transitioned to his current career. She’d just thought … well, that he was the golden boy so things worked out for him. She’d been a little jealous of how easy his life looked from her point of view but she was getting glimpses of him that made her realize Jack’s life wasn’t as effortless as it seemed.

“I’d love it if you would call and talk to her. Can you do it now? I’ll text Mona and tell her to wait before she talks to Deidre.”

“Yes, I can do it, but only if you promise you’ll do me a favor in return,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

“Don’t you want to know what I want?”

“Nope. I need her to stay matched to Peter so I don’t have to throw out three weeks worth of work.”

Jack lifted one eyebrow at her. “Whatever I ask for you’ll do?”

She would probably regret this. “Yes, a favor of your choosing.”

“Good. Drink your coffee while I save the day,” he said before going upstairs.

She stood up and walked around his apartment. She was surprised that his walls weren’t lined with photos of himself and celebrities. He gave the impression that he’d have lots of those but there weren’t any on display. Instead there was a painting by the celebrated Texan Charles Beckendorf. The craggy valleys of the Texas canyons provided a backdrop for a longhorn steer that stared out at the viewer.

She had one of his paintings hanging in her brownstone in Brooklyn. As soon as she’d started making real money she had decided to invest in art and had begun by supporting artists from her home state. She had also endowed a scholarship for girls from her high school.

She moved past the painting, feeling a little homesick for Texas after viewing it. Next was a picture she recognized from their high school yearbook. It was their state champion football team. She didn’t have to search to find Jack in the photo since she knew exactly where he was—in the second row, center. His smile was wider than the Texas sky. Coach Masters stood in the middle of the group and all of the starters crowded around him.

“I’ve never been as happy as I was in that moment,” Jack said, coming up behind her. He reached around her to run his finger over the trophy in the picture. “I thought that my life was set.”

She glanced over at him. That photo had been earth-shattering for her as well. Seeing it had made her think, This is it; I’m going to figure out how to hurt him like he hurt me. But hearing Jack talk about it with a tinge of wistfulness in his voice, she realized that even back then his life hadn’t been as perfect as she’d thought.

“What did Deidre say?” she asked. For Willow when life got too uncomfortable she turned to work. And thank God that she and Jack had a job in common.

He rubbed the back of his neck and then smiled at her. “She said she’d give him another chance. I think one of us, maybe you, should pull Peter aside and tell him to slow down just a little bit. He’s going too fast for her.”

“But that’s how I get good TV,” Willow said.

“I know, but if he doesn’t he’ll scare her off, and you don’t want that, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “It’d be so much easier if we could script things for them. But I know that the viewers wouldn’t enjoy it as much.”

“You’re right. Just think—you couldn’t have scripted that moment when Alex Cannon first held little Bella Ann. That was pure heartwarming television. You could see him melt,” Jack said.

“Yes, you could. And let’s face it, if Gail and Russell, Alex and Fiona, and Rikki and Paul could make it work, so can Deidre and Peter. He must have something that she wants.”

“He must,” Jack said.

Willow glanced at her watch. It was almost nine. She should be going soon. But first she texted Mona to say that the problem had been solved and that there was no need for her to find another match for Deidre right now.

“I guess I should be heading home. We’re shooting early tomorrow,” she said.

“Before you go …” he said.

Damn, she should have known she wasn’t going to get out the door without doing this.

“Yes?”

“You owe me a favor, remember?”

Of course she remembered. She had been so desperate to keep Deidre on the show that she’d acted rashly. Or had she? A part of her realized that she wanted to owe Jack something so that she’d have an excuse to keep on seeing him.

“So what exactly do you want from me?”

“A kiss.”

Three

A kiss.

Really, she shouldn’t be that surprised, and since he asked for it as a favor, she could just enjoy it guilt free. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that she had once spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about kissing him.

“Okay,” she said, trying hard to sound blasé. But instead her voice did a squeaky thing and she felt as lame as she had in high school when he’d asked her to go to the Dairy Queen for a cone.

He laughed, but it wasn’t unkind, and for the first time since she’d entered his apartment she felt like she was seeing a glimpse of the real man. Because in that laugh was a hint of her own nervousness. And that made him human. She got what he’d been trying to explain earlier—that despite the success and fame he’d found, at heart he was still just a regular guy.

“Are you sure? I don’t want a repeat of when I tried to hug you,” he said.

She nodded, not trusting her own voice. She wanted to kiss him. She’d never gotten a kiss back in high school and though she’d moved past living as that girl she still had an imaginary bucket list that included kissing Jack Crown.

He leaned down toward her and she tipped her head back, not realizing until they were this close how much taller he was than her. She closed her eyes as his hands settled on her shoulders and he drew her in toward him. Though their bodies didn’t touch, she could feel his body heat.

She felt the warmth of his breath over her mouth first. It had the pleasant scent of the coffee he’d drunk after dinner. The brush of his lips over hers was exhilarating; she felt tingles from her lips down her neck and to the very core of her body.

It was a gentle start but not tentative at all. She sensed he was taking care not to scare her off.

His mouth opened slowly on hers and she held her breath, trying to analyze this moment so she could pull it out and examine it later, but thought was impossible as a wave of sensation rolled over her. He tasted perfect, and unlike some of the men she’d kissed in the past, there was no awkward desire to pull back from him.

He feathered his tongue lightly into her mouth as he massaged her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Then his tongue went deeper into her mouth, until shivers of desire coursed through her body.

She felt like she was falling into a world where there was just Jack. She reached out for something to steady herself. Her hands brushed over his chest. It was strongly muscled and radiated warmth. Even through the fabric of his shirt she could feel it. His hands moved down her back to her waist and drew her in until they were pressed together.

She didn’t want them to fit together the way they did. As if they were meant to hold each other this way. His kiss continued to inflame her senses. She loved the way his fingers felt at the back of her neck as they tangled in her hair.

He lifted his head and sighed. She opened her eyes to look up at him and was surprised by the look on his face. There was desire, of course, but something else. He framed her face with his hands and whispered her name before he kissed her again.

This embrace lacked the restraint of the first time. She couldn’t think as passion swept over her. She went up on tiptoe so she could take more of his kiss. She wanted something more from him.

He caressed her neck and shoulders and then slid his hands down her back to cup her butt, pulling her tightly against him. She gasped at the feel of his erection pressing into her stomach and moisture pooled in her center. She had known she wanted him but this was different. This was white-hot desire and she was desperate to touch more of him.

To have more of him … more of Jack. She slid her hands under his shirt and up his back. His hands tightened on her as his tongue plunged deeper into her mouth. He shifted until he leaned back against the wall and she was supported fully by his weight.

He lifted his head, and she felt cold without his mouth pressed against hers.

“One kiss … I thought it would be enough, but I want more,” he said.

She did, too, but this was Jack. And now that his mouth wasn’t on hers … she pushed away from him and he let her go, his hands trailing over her hips until they fell to his sides.

“That got out of hand,” she said.

“I don’t think so, but I guess you’re not ready for anything more,” he said.

She sensed the frustration behind his words and she felt it, too, but she wasn’t going to rush things with Jack. She still didn’t know how she felt about him, and instead of making matters clearer, this night had only served to muddle them.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t rush into this. I thought you were a shallow me, me, me, guy when I came here tonight,” she admitted.

“And now?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Revenge was something that she’d craved and giving it up just wasn’t an option, but now she understood the saying about it being a dish best served cold. Because this heat between them melted her resolve.

“That’s why I need some time to think about this,” she said.

He nodded. “Fair enough. You’ll have plenty of time to mull things over because I leave for L.A. after we finish shooting in the morning. I won’t be back in New York for a week.”

She felt a sense of loss at the thought of him leaving and she knew that she had to get her head straight. It was a good thing he was going away because right now she’d have to say she was still stupid where he was concerned. But she’d miss him. And she hadn’t expected to.

“Will you have dinner with me again next Saturday?” he asked. “Not here, but on a proper date where I pick you up and take you out.”

“Yes,” she said and her voice did that squeaky thing again. She shook her head. “Hopefully I’ll be able to speak when you see me next week.”

“I like you just the way you are, Willow.”

She wished she could believe that was true, but he didn’t know her. He hadn’t back in high school and he didn’t now. On the set she treated him the way she did all talent—with a certain indulgence coupled with disdain. But he was talking about liking her. How could he? She wasn’t even sure she liked herself.

“Ah, you’re just saying that … aren’t you?” There was a hint of something fragile in her voice.

Jack felt as if Willow was still running away from him, and he knew no matter what gestures he made to bring her closer, he was treading on thin ice. He could literally navigate his way on thin ice—he’d been to the South Pole with explorer and entrepreneur Jefferson Haldon eighteen months ago—but this was different.

And personal relationships had always been harder for him. Give him a physical obstacle and tell him it was impossible and he’d find a way to conquer it. But give him a woman and tell him that she was impossible and he was stymied. It was frustrating to think he’d come such a long way from Frisco, Texas, and still hadn’t figured women out.

This woman. Frankly, she was the only one he really wanted to unravel and strip bare. But every time he thought he had a handle on her she did something unexpected … like the squeaky voice thing. What did it mean?

Why was this making her vulnerable? He was the one putting himself on the line … or was he the only one?

“Willow, I’m being honest. There is something about you that intrigues me. Even when you’re giving me the cold shoulder.”

“I’d put that down to ego,” she said.

“Me, too,” he admitted. “I’m not used to being ignored.”

“Then you don’t know for sure that you like me,” she said.

He crossed his arms over his chest, wondering if honesty was the key to this woman. Honesty was tricky because the truth wasn’t always as nice and pretty as people wanted it to be. “Want to know a secret?”

“Sure,” she said.

But there was a guarded look in her eyes, as if she was expecting him to say something … hurtful? He couldn’t read it. Never had been able to. The flashes he had of her from high school were just those big eyes of hers and that guarded expression on her face.

“I’m not sure if I like myself.”

Dammit, where had those words come from? He had meant to feed her some line about how she couldn’t expect him to like her if she kept him from truly knowing her. What he couldn’t tell her is that he’d lost the ability to care about anything but a challenge a long time ago.

“I didn’t expect you to be that honest,” she said. “What’s not to like about you? You’re charming—”

“I didn’t think you’d noticed,” he said, flashing her a calculated grin because he needed to get them back on familiar footing instead of staying here where he felt so damned vulnerable.

“It’s hard not to when you are wooing everyone in sight.”

“That’s my job. I can’t be successful if no one wants to talk to me. I’m the host.”

“You’re right about that,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So it’s just for show?”

He shrugged. “I genuinely like talking to people and hearing their stories. They fascinate me.”

That hadn’t always been the case. There had been a time in his life when he’d been so focused on himself he didn’t know others even existed. But his accident and hitting rock bottom had changed that. He’d needed people and had been amazed at how many had reached out to help him.

“Me, too. As long as they are moving toward helping me finish whatever I’m working on,” Willow said. She was driven, and he could respect that.

“Is work all you ever think about?” he asked. She had always struck him as a workaholic. Then again, he only saw her in the context of the set, so he thought he might have it wrong. Now he wasn’t so sure.

She shook her head, but then grimaced. “It is. Even when I’m out with my friends I’m always thinking of my next project. But you know how it is in our business. If you take a break for a second someone will pass you by and that’s it. No one remembers your name.”

“You can take a small break. How about when I get back to the East Coast you play hooky for one day?” he suggested. He needed to have her to himself so he could see if she was worth all the crazy she brought to his life.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I want to give you something you can’t give yourself.” He wanted to get her to notice him, and charm and expensive gifts weren’t the key to Willow. He could see that now.

“I don’t know that I want that kind of gift,” she said.

“Too bad. That’s what I’m claiming as my favor.”

“Uh, you already had your favor and it was a smokin’-hot kiss.”

“Dang, that’s right. Okay, fine, we’ll wait until after our date or better yet, I’ll make our date a no-talking-about-work one.”

“If that’s what you want,” she said, nibbling her lower lip.

“I really should be going,” she said.

But she made no move toward the door. She seemed as reluctant as he was to see this night end. “We didn’t get to really enjoy our coffee since we had that little work crisis to attend to … want another cup?”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I can’t or I’ll be up all night.”

“How about seeing where that kiss could lead?” he asked.

“I want to say yes. I think that’s why I’m still here. But I don’t get why I’m attracted to you,” she said. “It would have been so much nicer if your kiss tasted gross.”

That startled a laugh out of him and he shook his head. “You really are one of a kind. Sorry for not being gross.”

She gave him a really tender half smile that let him see how vulnerable she could be. And it was odd to see that expression on her face because she was always in charge. Always so in control of herself and her surroundings, but now he had a glimpse of a different side of her.

“It just makes everything so much more complicated.”

“Surely you’ve had that happen before,” he said. He couldn’t believe she’d get to thirty and not have found a man she could like kissing. “Dating is never as simple as we want it to be.”

“I don’t really date,” she admitted. “As you noted earlier I’m pretty much always all about work.”

“No man asks you out?”

“They do but I’m busy and no one has intrigued me enough—”

“Enough? Enough to what?”

She tipped her head to the side, studying him with that clear cool gaze of hers. “To risk getting hurt.”

“Not every relationship equals hurt,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, turning on her heel and heading toward the door.

“Who hurt you?” he asked. “Was it a lover or your father?”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “It doesn’t really matter. At least not now.”

Willow was surprised by how intuitive Jack was and she didn’t necessarily like it. A fun bet with Nic was one thing; actually letting Jack past her defenses was something else. She’d meant it when she’d said she wished he wasn’t a good kisser. She didn’t want to like him.

She understood why Nichole had wanted her to come on this date. But Willow hadn’t realized how much she had hidden away from her past until now. The emotions she’d thought she’d forgotten were all there stirring inside of her and making her say and do things that her common sense said not to.

“I think it does matter,” he said. “I don’t want to fight a ghost of a man. Tell me the details so I know what I’m up against.”

No way. She didn’t want to get all deep and Greek tragedy on him. She always thought of her epic quest for vengeance as some sort of ancient tale. It made it easier to wait for opportunities to strike back at Jack. Vengeance wasn’t an instant gratification process.

“This was our first date,” she said. “You are supposed to be thinking about asking me out on a second date, not about the other men I’ve dated.”

“I am thinking about that, Wills, but I know that you’re not going to fall for a man you can’t trust. And so far all I’ve done to impress you is not kiss gross.”

“The not being gross thing counts for a lot more than you think it does,” she said, trying to move the conversation back into safer waters without letting him see how desperately she wanted to stop talking about this.

“Trust me, I’m flattered. But one of the things I’m seeing about you is that it takes more than a kiss to woo you.”

“Why woo me? Can’t you just do whatever it is you usually do?” she asked.

“No way. That’s the surefire way to have you for just one night,” he said.

That had to be a line.

“You want more than that?” she asked. “You don’t even know me.”

“Agreed. But I want to know you. Every time I’m with you I want to stay in your presence as long as I can. I know it’s not cool to admit but I’m obsessed with you.”

“Obsessed with me? As soon as you figure out why you’ll move on,” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t think so. That’s why I need to know more about you.”

She doubted that knowledge would help. But the fact that he admitted to being enamored with her was a mark in her favor. She wanted revenge and she saw that it could be very easily had if she played her cards right. Except that she was conflicted. She liked Jack.

He had a self-effacing side—something that she’d take over ego and arrogance any day. He was funny and charming and then there were his kisses, which had almost made her want to drag him to the floor and have her way with him.

“I guess next Saturday will be a big date for us, then,” she said.

“Unless you want to stay here now and talk all night,” he said. “I’m flying to L.A. in the morning so I don’t mind.”

“Really? Don’t you need sleep like the rest of us?”

“I do,” he said, “but for you, I’d give it up.”

She had to work tomorrow but she was honest enough to admit to herself that she probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight for thinking about him. But staying here had mistake written all over it and she was done making mistakes with Jack Crown … really, she was.

“I can’t. I’m not ready to be that intense with you, Jack. I’m still not sure you aren’t playing some kind of game with me.”

He looked hurt for a nanosecond and then covered it with a shrug. “I’m not really a player.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t know you well enough yet. Thanks again for helping out with Deidre, though.”

“No problem. I like being able to help.”

“I can see that,” she said.

She reached for the doorknob and then glanced back over her shoulder to say goodbye. There was a wistful look on Jack’s face. She realized then that Nichole might have known that Jack seemed to genuinely care about her. Willow didn’t understand him herself. How could someone who’d treated her so callously in high school have grown into this man?

“Night,” he said, lifting one hand to wave goodbye to her.

“Night,” she said, walking out into the hallway and closing the door. She leaned back against it and took a deep breath. She really didn’t know what had happened but her heart was racing and she regretted leaving him.

She wasn’t being careful with her own emotions. Why was it that Jack Crown seemed to know the things to do and say to make her feel this way? Why couldn’t she meet another man who had this kind of power over her?

Why him?

She pushed away from the door and walked down the hallway before realizing she’d forgotten her coat. Dammit, if it weren’t so cold she’d just leave it. But it had been snowing when she’d arrived. She turned back and knocked on his door.

He opened it and held out her coat. She saw that he’d put his own on and had his keys in his hands. He had a scarf draped around his neck.

“I was coming after you,” he said. The light from the hallway shone down on his hair and brought out the angles of his face. He was truly a very beautiful man and a part of her was angry at him just for being so damned attractive to her. Life would be much easier if he weren’t. “You’re going to need this.”

She nodded and reached out for her coat but he held it up for her.

“Turn around,” he said. “I’ll help you.”

She did as he asked, sliding her arms into her coat. It had been a long time since anyone had helped her with her coat and the little gesture touched her. Made her remember the other caring things he’d done tonight.

If he was playing her … He had to be playing her, didn’t he?

He lifted her hair from the back of her neck where it had gotten trapped between her body and her coat.

“Damn,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I had a bet with myself that your hair wouldn’t be as soft as it looks.”

“And?”

“It’s softer,” he said.

He dropped her hair and then turned and went back into his apartment. All she could do was stand there feeling more confused and alone than she had in a long, long time.

Four

Peter Mullen was whipcord lean and had a grin that made you want to smile back at him. He wasn’t overly tall but then he was a race car driver. And the cockpits of those things weren’t made for giants.

“Do you know what Deirdre just said to me?” Kat said, coming up next to Willow where they’d set up their shot for the day. They were indoors at a charity event for the Children’s Diabetes Foundation. Peter was a major sponsor.

“What?”

“She said, ‘I still don’t get racing. I mean, they just drive around the track. What’s the point?’”

“What did you say to her?”

“That I grew up in the South. You know all we have down there is racing … go-carts, dirt bikes, you name it, guys race it,” she said with a grin.

Willow had to laugh at Kat. The woman was five years younger than her but they had the same sensibility. It was one of the reasons why Willow had hired her. She’d been grooming Kat—well, mentoring her would be a better way of putting it.

“You’re kidding me,” Willow said. It seemed as though Deidre was determined to not make the match with Peter work. A part of Willow wondered why she’d even gone to a matchmaker but she knew the other woman must have had a good reason.

“Do you think I should go and explain it to her?” Willow asked. She wasn’t too sure she could explain racing, having not really watched it herself.

“No. I already gave her an iPad loaded with the information. Told her if Peter could read all her columns the least she could do was understand what he did for a living,” Kat said.

Uh-oh. Kat had a way of shooting from the hip sometimes. “Did you say it like that?”

“What, am I stupid?” Kat said. “Of course not. But I wanted to. Why did she even go to a matchmaker?”

“I don’t know. I’ll go talk to her,” Willow said. She understood being reluctant—after all, everybody had their share of battle scars when it came to relationships and love. But Deidre had sought this out.

“Fine by me. I’ll go talk to Peter,” Kat said.

Willow had the feeling that Kat liked Peter more than just as a friend. Every time they were together on set Kat was over there batting her eyelashes and flirting with him. “He’s spoken for.”

“I know that,” the other woman said.

“Just make sure you remember it,” Willow said before walking away. She had a radio on her belt and an earpiece in her ear so she could hear whatever a craft or services person needed from her as they prepared to shoot the episode.

Peter and Deidre were the last couple featured in this first season of Sexy & Single. Willow just wanted them to make a spectacular ending to her show so that advertisers would come back and viewers would keep tuning in.

She walked into the large bathroom that they had commandeered as a dressing room/greenroom for the day. Deidre was sitting in front of a bank of mirrors alone. She seemed small and like someone who didn’t know everything in that moment. Willow cleared her throat and as instantaneously as a switch being thrown, Deidre changed.

Suddenly she looked like Ms. D, the advice columnist famous for her tough love approach to problems. But Willow had seen the woman behind the curtain and for the first time since Deidre had come on the show, Willow felt a bit of sympathy toward her.

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