That Wild Cowboy
* * *
HE KEPT REMEMBERING her face. It had been two days since Clint had met Victoria Calhoun but he hadn’t heard a word back from her about the so-called deal she wanted to offer him with Cowboys, Cadillacs and Cattle Drives. He’d talked to his accountant, his manager and even the family minister, but he still hadn’t decided about taking on this new venture. His accountant’s eyes had lit up at the dollars signs mentioned. His manager’s eyes had lit up at the possibility of asking for even more dollars. Greedy, both of them. The minister—probably sent by Clint’s mother to check on him concerning other areas of his life—had lit up with the possibility of more funding for some of the church mission work.
Everyone wanted something from Clint. Either to take over his soul or save his soul.
And all he wanted was one day of peace and quiet. Just one. He’d had the house to himself all week but he’d had more people dropping by than ever. He needed to get out of the state of Texas, just to rest.
Or to be restless and reckless.
But it’d be worth taking this deal to have a little fun on the side with that perky but slightly buttoned-up camera operator and production-assistant-story-time-girl-Friday named Victoria.
He’d have to make up his mind soon. Clint knew offers such as this one came and went by the dozen. But an interesting working woman? Well, he hadn’t been around many of those lately. It’d be worth his trouble to have some good times with her. That and the nice salary he’d get for agreeing to this.
He could secure a good future for his only niece, fifteen-year-old Trish, or Tater, as he always called her. His little sweet Tater.
Still, taking on Victoria Calhoun would mean having to deal with one more female in his already full-of-females life. And he hadn’t exactly asked how anyone else around here would feel about constant cameras in their lives.
Clint listened to the sound of girly laughter out by the pool, his eyes closed, his mind in turmoil while he sat in the shade of the big, open patio, watching the steaks sizzle on the grill. With a cowboy hat covering his face to shade him from the bright glare of the afternoon sun, he listened to the women gathered for a quick swim before dinner.
“Well, he said he’d take me to the party.”
That would be Tater. The young, confused, teenage one.
“But did he ask you to the party? Because you wanting him to take you and him asking, that’s a whole different thing.”
That would be Susan. Or Susie. The bossy older one.
“Take, ask, what does it matter? I want to go with him but he treats it all like a joke.”
“It is a joke. Men like to treat us that way.”
“You two need to quit worrying about boyfriends and get outta that water and help me finish dinner.”
And that would be Denise. Denny—the nickname she hated. The divorced, even older one.
Man, he loved his sisters and his niece but sometimes they got on his last nerve. Favorite, Forceful and Formidable. That’s how he labeled them in the pecking order, youngest to oldest.
“Can’t a man get some shut-eye around here without all this squawking?”
“And you, Mister Moody. You need to turn those steaks ’cause your mama is on her way over right now.”
Clint opened one eye and squinted up at the one he liked to call Denny just to irritate her. Tater technically belonged to Denny, but everyone around here was trying to advise his niece on how to get a date for the summer party coming up in a few weeks. “Mama? You invited Mama for a cookout?”
“She does live right over there—sometimes,” Denise said, one hand on her hip while she pointed toward the white farmhouse near the big pond at the south end of the yard. When he’d built this house, their stubborn mother had insisted on staying on out there. “And she does come for dinner at least once or twice a week.”
“And she doesn’t like to see her grown son lying around like a lazy donkey,” Clint added, groaning his way out of the big lounge chair. “I sure enjoyed having the house to myself this week. Y’all need to take Mama to visit Aunt Margaret in Galveston more often.”
Denise gave him an impish smile. “I might consider that since I’m mighty tired of finding feminine clothes scattered all over this house each time I come back home. Not a good role-model-type thing for your niece.”
“I don’t mind the parties,” Tater said on an exclamation-point holler. “I’m old enough to handle things like that if y’all would just quit trying to ruin my life.”
“You have a good life,” Susie said with her infamousness sarcastic tone of voice. “Enjoy being young and carefree. Adulthood isn’t all that fun.”
Denny shook her head at her younger sister. “You know, you need a better attitude.”
“You don’t know what I need,” Susie retorted before she went back to scrolling on her phone.
Clint held up both hands, palms out. “I have no idea what any of you are talking about.”
“Right.” Denise turned and flipped the steaks herself, as was her nature with all things.
Control. Everyone around here wanted control but they were all out to control. Especially him.
Clint put his hat back on his head and sat back down in his chair, wondering when exactly he’d lost control of his own life. Maybe taking on this crazy reality show would serve them all right. At least then he could call the shots himself.
* * *
TWO WHOLE DAYS and Samuel was on Victoria to go back out to the Sunset Star Ranch. Okay, so she was accustomed to using a handheld camera to get a few shots when she went out on a scouting assignment, and she was used to going on these missions by herself since she’d been more than a production assistant from day one. Samuel depended on her spot-on opinions of people and he also appreciated that she stayed in shape for the physical part of her job, which sometimes entailed lugging cameras of all sizes that often weighed up to twenty-five pounds, or running around with hair and makeup, or soothing an angry castmate, or maybe, just maybe, getting a good scene without anyone having a real meltdown.
But mostly Samuel depended on her to ease a subject into becoming a reality star. One small camera, no pressure and nothing on the air without a consent release. That was part of what her job required and most days, this was the best part of that job. Discovering someone who’d make a great star always got her excited. Looking into someone else’s life and seeing the reflection of her own pain in their eyes always made her thankful for what she had and how far she’d come. Her job allowed her to create stories out of reality and in the process, she’d seen some amazing changes in people who started out all broken and messed up and ended up whole and confident again.
But for some reason, coming to talk to Clint Griffin again made her break out in hives. She didn’t think she could fix him without destroying part of herself.
“Get over yourself,” she whispered as she parked her tiny car and started the long hike up to those big double doors. She’d just reached the top step when the front door burst open and a young girl ran out, tears streaming down her face.
The girl glared at Victoria then stomped into a twirl and glared up at the house. “I hate this place.”
Victoria wasn’t sure what to say, but when she heard someone calling out, she stood perfectly still and went into unobtrusive camera-person mode. This was getting interesting.
“Tater, come back here.”
She sure knew that voice. Surely he wasn’t messing with high-schoolers now.
The girl let out a groan. “And don’t call me Tater!”
Then another voice shrilled right behind Clint, obviously addressing that heated retort. “Tell her to get back in here and finish helping me set the table.”
The woman whirled past Victoria in a huff of elegance. She had streaked brown hair and long legs and a dressed-to-impress attitude in a white blouse dripping with gold and pearl necklaces and a tight beige skirt that shouted Neiman Marcus. So he also dated lookers who knew which hot brands to wear.
By the time Clint himself had made it to the open door, Victoria was boiling over with questions and doubts, followed by a good dose of anger. She couldn’t work with this man.
Clint stared down at the driveway, where the two other women were arguing, and then turned to stare at her. His mouth went slack when he realized one of these things was not like the others. “Victoria?”
She nodded but remained still and calm, her leather tote and one camera slung over her shoulder. Let him explain his way out of this one.
Before he could make the attempt, two other women—one pretty but stern and definitely more controlled in jeans and a blue cashmere sweater over a sleeveless cotton top, and the other smiling and shaking her beautiful chin-length silver bob—virtually shoved Clint out of the way and completely ignored Victoria.
Clint put his hands on his hips and listened to the chattering, shouting, finger-pointing group of women standing in his driveway. Then he turned to Victoria with a shrug. “I can explain.”
“Yeah, right,” she retorted. “Do you have a harem in there, cowboy?”
“I only wish,” he replied. “You want reality. Well, c’mon then.” He took her by the arm and dragged her down the steps and pushed her right in the middle of the squawking women. But his next words caused Victoria to almost drop her tiny not-even-turned-on video recorder.
“Victoria Calhoun, I’d like you to meet my mother, my two aggravating sisters and my hopping-mad niece. This is my reality.”
CHAPTER FOUR
VICTORIA DID A double take. “Excuse me?”
“Turn on that little machine,” Clint replied, pointing to her handheld. “Get this on tape, darlin’.” Then his voice grew louder. “Because this is my life now.”
All of the women stopped talking and stared at Victoria.
“What did you say?” the oldest one asked, giving Clint a sharply focused, brilliant gray-eyed appraisal.
“Mama, this is Victoria Calhoun. From TRN. She works on that show y’all like to watch. Cowboys, Cadillacs and—”
“Cowboys,” the fashion plate said, her angry frown turning to a fascinated smile. She went into instant star mode. “Really?”
“Really,” Victoria replied, wondering how his entire family had turned out to be females. And thinking this explained a lot about the man. He was obviously spoiled and used to being pampered with so many women around.
“I love that show,” the starlet woman replied, her attention now centered on Victoria. “But why on earth are you here?”
“She’s probably filming us,” the young rebel replied, her eyes a lot like Clint’s mother’s. “Did you get all of that? Are you gonna put that on television?” She turned in a panic. “I will die of embarrassment. I so don’t want anyone to see that on TV. Uncle Clint?”
“I haven’t filmed anything yet,” Victoria replied in a calm voice. “I came out a few days ago, scouting, and took a few candid shots. But...Mr. Griffin was the only one here.”
He gave her a look that said, “Right,” but he didn’t call her out on getting the leggy blonde on tape because if he said anything he’d have to confess to having a leggy blonde here. “That’s true,” he said. “And if you’ll all come in the house, I’ll explain everything.”
Victoria took that as her invitation to go inside with them. Had he made a decision? Probably not, since he hadn’t bothered to tell his family...or her...about it.
The older-looking sister in the casual outfit gave Victoria a look that suggested she hated this idea and she wasn’t going to budge. “Somebody go and check on the steaks,” she said, waiting for Victoria to get ahead of her in the procession. “I think we need to set an extra plate for dinner.”
“No, I couldn’t—”
“I insist,” Clint’s mother said.
Victoria knew that motherly tone. No arguments.
“I’m Bitsy,” the silver-haired lady continued. She guided Victoria toward the back of the house. “We’re having supper out on the porch by the pool. Do you eat meat?”
Stunned, Victoria nodded. “This is Texas, right?”
Bitsy chuckled, gave her son a quick glance. “Last time I checked. But my granddaughter—the one we call Tater—has decided she’s a vegan. So I always ask.”
Polite and elegant. Manners. This woman was a true Texas lady. A society dame, Victoria thought. What a nice contrast to Clint and his bad-boy ways. But why were they both here together?
* * *
CLINT SAT AT the head of the long pine table and took in the women surrounding him. How did a man escape such a sweet trap? He turned to Victoria, conscious of her quiet reserve. She observed people and watched the exchange of comments, criticisms and contradictions that was dinner at the Sunset Star. What was she thinking? That she needed to run as fast as her legs would carry her? Or that this was certainly fodder for her show?
He decided to ask her. “So, you think we could entertain people with our little family dynamic?”
Her green eyes locked horns with him. “Oh, yes. You have an interesting family dynamic.”
He chuckled, drained his iced tea. “We ain’t the Kardashians, darlin’, but we love each other.”
He saw the hint of admiration in her eyes. “I can see that, I think. But all of this chaos makes for good television.”
“Uh-huh.” Chaos, hormones, mood swings and his man-view. Couple that with all the mistakes he’d made and how his family clung to those mistakes like a rodeo pro clinging to a bucking bronco and well, who wouldn’t want to see that on television? That would make for great entertainment. But did he really want to reduce his family to ridicule and embarrassment just to make a buck or two? Hey, that was what this popular show was all about and his family was kind of used to it anyway.
Victoria perked up. “Have you decided to accept our offer?”
“I’ve been waiting to hear back from you on that account.”
She gave him a surprised frown. “We were waiting to hear back from your lawyers—”
“Forget the lawyers. This is my decision.”
“Well, I’m here now and we can decide, once and for all.”
“Did you come all the way out here to pin me down?”
“Yes, I did. My boss wasn’t happy with me the other day.”
“He can’t blame you. We have a whole passel of lawyers and one greedy manager looking into the matter but I told them to hold off. So this is my decision and my fault if I decide not to participate. Which I haven’t decided. Yet.”
“So you are interested?”
“Maybe.” He nodded toward his mother at the other end of the table. “But ultimately it will be up to her and the rest of them.”
“And here I thought you were the master of your domain.”
“An illusion. I’m just the dog-and-pony show.”
“Having family here will add to the drama of the show.”
“Maybe. We do have lots of drama around here. But I’m not so sure I want to put my family through anything that will make them uncomfortable. Or rather, anything more.”
Her disappointed look didn’t surprise him. Maybe she was just like everyone else. Greedy and needy and clueless about leaving a trail of stepped-on people behind her. Maybe he was the same way himself.
She leaned forward. “When we first thought of you, we didn’t know you had family here. I was under the impression you lived alone in this big house.”
He fingered the condensation on his glass. “I did for a while. The old family home is on the other side of the property. My folks lived there for many years. Then my daddy passed and my sister got a divorce and my other sister lost her job and...”
“You took them all in?”
“They kinda came one at a time. Mama didn’t really want to move into this house, so she stays out in the old place by the pond, but we see her just about every day. Denise didn’t want to move in but after her divorce, well, she couldn’t afford her own overblown home. So I finally convinced her by asking her to help me out around here. She’s the ranch manager but she does her own thing on the side. She has an online business selling clothes. The latest is Susie. She lost her high-fashion job in California, even though she’d tell you she was a struggling actress, so she came home for a visit about a month ago and...she stayed.” He grinned and lowered his voice. “But, bless her heart, she still thinks like a Californian.”
Victoria’s smile indicated she enjoyed bantering with the best of them. “And dresses like one, too.”
“Yep. She wants to be a star but she was forced to find a real job between auditions and bit parts. Rodeo Drive—not quite my kind of rodeo, but it paid the bills until the owner up and shut everything down.”
From down the table, his mother tapped a spoon on her glass. “Clint, are you going to explain about this television show or do I have to read about it in the local paper?”
He let go of Victoria’s gaze and looked at his mother. Bitsy Griffin hated scandal of any kind. She valued her privacy so much, she’d rather stay in that old farmhouse than stay in the nice room he’d fixed up for her upstairs. So what made him think she’d ever agree to a television crew filming her every move? And his every scandal?
Denny glared at him, always in perpetual distrust of any man, especially her playboy brother, who’d introduced her to her playboy husband, who’d become her ex-husband but was still very much a playboy. Too many issues with that one.
“Let me lay it out on the table,” he said, holding his breath and bracing for a storm of catty protests. “Ms. Calhoun came out here the other day as a representative of the show and offered me a contract to appear in several episodes of the show. We talked about the offer and discussed the pay. I told her I’d have to think about it.”
“And it never occurred to you to tell us this?” Denny asked, fire burning through her eyes.
“I’m telling you now,” he replied, a heavy fatigue drawing him down. “I never agreed to have any of you on the show anyway. If I decide to do this that doesn’t mean any of you have to participate.”
“Did you invite her to come and explain to us?” Susie asked, her long nails tapping on the table, her brown eyes full of interest.
“No, he didn’t,” Victoria said, sitting up in her chair. “I came back to see what he’d decided and to answer any questions he might still have. I didn’t know...about all of you.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Denny said, her tone bordering on hostile. “My brother likes to keep us all a secret. Gives him more of a spotlight.”
“Look,” Clint said, holding out a hand in defense. “I’m sorry for not telling y’all. That’s because I had to think long and hard about this before I said anything. I know how rumors get started, some of them right here at this table.”
That quieted everyone.
“Would we have cameras around twenty-four hours a day?” his mother asked, her tone caught between interest and exasperation.
“No,” Victoria answered. “We’d frame each episode. That means we’d plan it out to tape show segments at a certain time, say for an event such as this. But we won’t be here every day, all day.” She glanced around the table. “We’d do a few episodes and see how it goes.”
Clint nodded at her, impressed with her calm, professional tone.
“What do you expect from us?” Denny asked, still glaring.
Instead of turning snarky, Victoria smiled. “Our viewers love Texas. They want to see how a real cowboy lives. You know, the horses, the homes, the cattle. Oil and everything that entails. The saying that everything is bigger in Texas pretty much sums up this show. We like to show off our stars.”
Denny didn’t look happy. “So you’d be exploiting us?”
Clint gave her a warning look. Denny sent back a daring look.
“We don’t want to exploit anyone,” Victoria replied. “But we do want good ratings. Good ratings mean better sponsors and more dollars and not getting canceled. So I get to keep my job.”
Susie shot Clint a greedy glance. His ambitious little sister would be all over this like a duck on a June bug. “Well, I am unemployed right now and I do have some acting experience. I’m available.”
“We haven’t reached that part,” Clint retorted. “And you know I’ll take care of you while you’re looking for work.”
“I don’t want to be taken care of,” his sister said on a hiss of breath. “I can take care of myself. But I would benefit from being featured in this show.” She shifted her gaze to Victoria. “Of course, I don’t come cheap.”
“Susan,” her mother said, a hand on her daughter’s arm, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is your brother’s house, but we all have a say in this since we live on the property.”
“It’s your property, Mama,” Denny said. “He could have asked before he allowed these people out here.”
“He didn’t allow anything,” Victoria said. “I came looking for him because he didn’t return my calls.”
“And why exactly did the powers-that-be send you?” Denny asked, a killer glare in her brown eyes.
Victoria didn’t skip a beat. “My boss is Samuel Murray and he is both the producer and director of Cowboys, Cadillacs and Cowboys. He sent me—his production assistant and story producer—because I’ve done every job on the show from camera work to hair and makeup to just being a gofer for food and drinks. He trusts me to scout out people who will be able to handle being on a reality show.”
For the first time since her hissy fit earlier, Tater spoke up. “And do you think we’re those kind of people?”
Victoria shot Clint a glance that reassured him and terrified him. “Yes. Yes, I certainly do.”
* * *
“I’LL WALK YOU to your car,” Clint told Victoria after they’d cleared away the dinner dishes.
They were alone now and at least she’d survived the scrutiny of his overly protective family. They’d all listened, intrigued and repulsed in turn, and she believed they were curious enough to want to try this. Susie obviously wanted to be a part of things and was ready to sign tonight. Denny refused to even discuss it. But Victoria wasn’t sure she’d convinced his mother, or Tater for that matter, to open up their lives to the world. And honestly, Victoria couldn’t blame them. There was a reason she stayed on the other side of the camera.
“Thanks,” she told him now, putting her guilt and her own reservations out of her mind. “That was a great dinner.”
His self-deprecating smile sizzled with charm. “I almost burned the steak.”
“The steak was just right but I was talking about the undercurrents around the table.”
“Oh, I see. You’d like to get that on the screen?”
“That’s the kind of family interaction we dream about getting on TV.”
“Keep dreaming then, darlin’.” He strolled her to her car then leaned back against it to stare down at her. “I don’t think my girls are quite ready for prime time.”
Victoria didn’t want to lose this chance, especially after meeting his family. At first, she’d only been intent on showing Clint Griffin in his worst light because she wanted to reveal him for the player he’d always been. She’d wanted nothing more than to expose his shenanigans to the world because viewers loved to see others in misery. But she had a gut feeling that showing him interacting with all of his female relatives would send a new message and make the ratings skyrocket. Women loved a man who knew how to handle women. It was a bit sexist but true. Clint’s handling of his many girlfriends would contrast nicely with how he interacted with his family. Plus, everyone loved watching notorious people having meltdowns. It was a sad paradox, but it was there. She had every reason to want to cash in on that.
“What can I do to convince you?”
“I’m almost in,” he said, nodding. “But even before you showed up tonight, I was gonna explain it to all of them and ask them to let me work around them—not include them, unless they agreed to it.”
“Susie seems interested,” she pointed out. “And she does have an impressive acting résumé from what she told me.”
“Yes, that and an ego the size of our great state,” he said on a guarded chuckle. “I’ll have to think about bringing her in but she just might work out and she does need some means of an income.”