All or Nothing. Debbi Rawlins
clustered at the edge of a small man-made lake.
She immediately downshifted. “Enough.”
“A woman of few words. Or can’t you keep up the pace and talk?”
She slid him an amused look. “I’m a personal trainer when I’m not doing this.”
“You work in a club?”
“No, I go to people’s homes.”
Interesting. He made a mental note to check into it. That kind of history could work in her favor. Or put a nail in her coffin. “Must pay pretty well. This city ain’t cheap.”
She laughed softly. “Think about how much you’re paying me to babysit you for an hour.”
“Good point.”
“How are you doing?”
“Still breathing.”
“We’ve gone almost three miles. After this next curve we’ll head back to the hotel via the east side of the park.” She wasn’t breathing hard, and unlike him, hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“I’m glad you know where you’re going. I’m totally lost.”
“That’s what keeps me in business.”
Chase grunted. That was about all he could manage at the moment. The three miles weren’t as much the problem as the pace he’d initially set. He should’ve taken it easier. Hell, his wound was still tender because he hadn’t allowed it to heal properly. If only he had a brain the size of his ego.
A group of chatty young kids obviously on a field trip crossed their path and slowed them down. He wasn’t complaining. He wanted to shake each of their grimy little hands. Once the way was clear again, Dana shot him a questioning look. He stuck to a slow jog and she stayed beside him.
“I didn’t realize it was so humid here,” he said. “Nothing like Houston, mind you, where the air is thicker than my mama’s country gravy.”
“That’s where you’re from?”
He nodded. “I just bought a house near Hollywood so I’ve been kind of bouncing back and forth.”
She checked her watch again. “We’re going to have to pick it up a bit to get you back in time.”
Damn it, he’d baited the hook and she hadn’t even taken a nip. “Ever been to California?”
“Nope. I haven’t been farther west than Indiana.”
“The west coast is like living in a whole different country. Haven’t decided if I like it or not yet.” He let a few moments lapse and when it was obvious she wasn’t going to comment, he added, “But that’s where the talent is, they tell me. Of course I’m thinking I might find a mother lode here on Broadway.”
She slowly looked at him, her brows furrowed with curiosity. “What kind of business are you in?” She blushed. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Up until now I’ve been involved in oil mostly. That’s how my daddy made the family money, anyway.” He paused and grinned. “I’m what you call going to divest and spend some of that money on films.”
She took a moment to digest what he’d said, and he was pleased to see interest flicker across her face. “You’re a producer.”
“That’s right. I have my eye on a play that I think will turn into a nice box-office hit. I’m meeting with the playwright tomorrow.”
“Ah.” She played it cool, scarcely showing anymore reaction, but he knew he’d gotten her attention.
“Wish I could tell you which one, darlin’, but I’m a bit superstitious about these things.”
“No, I don’t blame you. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
He winked. “I thought we were just having a friendly conversation.”
She didn’t smile. “It’s just another mile out of the park. Want to pick up the pace for the last stretch?”
“Okay,” he said, wishing he knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers. What was her story? Had she come to New York to act? Model? Find a rich husband? He’d bet she was more ambitious than that. But places like New York and Hollywood could be ruthless and unforgiving and shatter a young girl’s dreams into a million pieces. Cause a lot of heartache and disappointment. Enough to make a person bitter. And bitterness changed a person.
The small ranching town outside of Dallas where he’d grown up had produced a couple of Hollywood hopefuls. Ashley Morgan had won most of the beauty pageants from Dallas to the panhandle, twirling that baton of hers and easing out everyone in the talent category. Senior year he’d gone out with her twice, probably due to curiosity on her part because of his muddy reputation, but he didn’t have anything she needed to further her career, so it had ended pronto. Hadn’t bothered him none.
Nah, ol’ Ashley hadn’t been the sharpest tool in the shed, but she had a body that wouldn’t quit. He’d heard it had gotten her a bit part in a B movie, then she got married to a fat, rich oilman and had a whole passel of kids.
They jogged around a curve and he saw the lineup of horses and carriages, and knew he had only a few minutes of information-gathering left. They had another appointment tomorrow morning, but he didn’t want to wait that long to find out what made Dana McGuire tick.
“I know I’m not the first one to tell you that you have perfect bone structure. You ever do any modeling? Is that why you came to New York?”
She hesitated, long enough that he expected her to tell him to go to hell. Great. The last thing he needed was her clamming up. He’d gone too fast, come on too strong. He should’ve waited until tomorrow to get to the next level, but he’d acted like a damn rookie. Which he wasn’t. He knew better. This was too important to screw up. If she had the ring, he needed to get it back.
2
“I WANTED to sing,” Dana said finally. “Or act. That’s why I came to New York. I was hoping to find work.” She shrugged. “It didn’t pan out, but I found something else I like to do. Something I like better.” She’d told herself that often enough that it should be true by now. To some degree it was.
Fitness had always been important to her. She’d run track in high school, and when she’d traveled the pageant circuit back in her teens, she’d used the stage to push fitness as a higher priority in schools. She’d always been passionate about the need to stay active as a health issue, but if she were given the chance at a singing or acting career…
No, she could not go there. After struggling for four years, and lying to her family back home, she’d made peace with her life. It was a good life, too. She had great friends, a family who loved her, a business that had grown impressively over the past three years. One that was a lot kinder than the entertainment industry. She was happy. Content.
“A singer, huh? Now, that surprises me.”
“Why?” They’d hit the street and she was suddenly anxious to get him back to the hotel and end their conversation. No use stirring up old hurts. So what if he was here scouting talent? She’d learned the hard way that she wasn’t anything special. Just a small-town girl who’d once stood a foot above the rest. Her hopes had died long ago. There were hundreds of women hungrier and more talented than she. Let him go use his urban-cowboy charm on one of them.
“Just figured that—well, guess it doesn’t matter.”
Fine with her. “There’s the hotel,” she said abruptly and pointed. “See it?”
“Yep.” He stopped, his gaze narrowing, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You giving me the brush off?”
To avoid getting run over by a group of Japanese tourists, she was forced