That Wild Cowboy. Lenora Worth

headed back to the pool and started earning his pay in such a big way that Susie got up, put her hands on her little hips and announced, “Next time, I’m inviting my friends, not yours.” Then she stomped past Victoria with a glare and a parting shot. “This isn’t reality. It’s ridiculous.”

      * * *

      VICTORIA LET OUT a yawn. It had been a long day. Nestled safely in the spacious pool house, she wondered at the wisdom of staying so near that big stone house across from the pool. But Samuel liked the crew to stay on sight as much as possible to capture any and all incidents. And boy, had they had incidents today.

      Susie showing up at the pool.

      Denny calling Clint in the middle of the B-roll. His mother coming over and holding a hand over her face as she marched through the house to give him an important package that had been mistakenly delivered to her side of the ranch.

      They had most of it on tape and they’d have to delete most of that. It would be tricky, taping around his unyielding family. But Victoria hoped she could keep the segments with Susie. Clint’s sister couldn’t be much younger than Victoria, but she had the spoiled Dallas socialite routine down pat. And that would make for great television. Well, great reality television anyway. She’d have to do a good job of editing, so Clint could see that the tension between Susie and him was undeniable. As long as she kept it light, however, she thought she could make it work without getting too deeply into family dynamite best left on the cutting-room floor.

      And just how far are you willing to go?

      This was always the dilemma for her. How long could she keep up this pace? How long could she push to get into people’s heads and lives just to keep the ratings up and the sponsors happy?

      As Samuel would say, “As long as it takes, sweetheart.”

      So she gritted her teeth and went back over the raw footage for today’s taping. If she liked what she saw, she’d send it electronically to Samuel with editing suggestions. Then back at the studio, they’d work through the rough cuts to create what would become the footage for the first show highlighting Clint Griffin. He’d lived up to his promise to put on a show. He’d flirted, whispered sweet nothings, had a few drinks and played a few tunes on his acoustic guitar.

      Victoria had tried very hard to ignore how smoothly he moved from woman to woman. Now if she could only ignore the beating drums of her heart and how that tune had changed today each time he kissed one of those bikini-clad women.

      Because Victoria knew how good that man’s kisses could be.