Finding Mr. Right Now (27 page)

Ronnie shrugged again. “I guess. To tell you the truth I kind of liked Salt Box better than the resort. I liked it when we were all together. I don’t want to cut Paul.”

Monica’s stomach gave a quick twinge. She’d never thought Ronnie had any particular feelings for Paul one way or the other. That could make everything a lot trickier. “Are you planning to cut him tomorrow?”

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “Well, I mean, I just kept him around for you. And then you had that big fight, so I figured you didn’t want him here anymore. So yeah, I’ll cut him now. But I’ll miss him. He’s funny.”

Somehow Monica managed to keep her jaw from dropping. “For me? You kept him around for me?”

“Sure. I mean, the two of you had a thing. I figured if I cut him, they might send him home and you’d be unhappy. But then he was such a jerk up on that mountain last night when he found you.” Ronnie frowned, her brows drawing together. “At least I think he was. I mean I was sort of drunk so I don’t remember it exactly.”

Monica blew out a breath. “He was pretty abrupt. But I think he was worried about me.”

“You’re not still mad at him?”

She took a moment to assess her own feelings, then shook her head. “No. Not really. I mean he came up and found me when he didn’t have to. Glenn sure didn’t bother to send anyone up to check.”

“Oh.” Ronnie sighed. “Well, maybe I’ll think about it then. The thing is, though, I have to cut somebody. I mean, we’re getting so close to the end and all.”

“Right.” Monica sighed. “Look, don’t worry about me, Ronnie. Just think about who should be your Mr. Right.” She felt like she was spinning her mental wheels, trying to fit this new information into the World According to Ronnie, as least as Monica had known it up to then. Maybe she hadn’t given Ronnie enough credit—she was really a lot sharper than she seemed sometimes. “Ronnie, I hope you didn’t send off anybody you liked just so you could keep Paul around for me.”

Ronnie studied her manicure. “No. I mean, I wouldn’t have done that. None of those other guys would have been right.”

“Right for you?”

Ronnie smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “Sure. Right for me.”

Sid knocked on the open door, leaning his head inside. “We’re ready to go ahead and get started. Everything okay?”

Monica took one more look at Ronnie, trying to decide if anything else was going on in that pretty golden head she needed to know about. But if there was, it didn’t show on Ronnie’s face. “I guess we’re ready. Ronnie?”

“Sure.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Showtime.”

Monica blinked.
Showtime?
That didn’t sound like the Sweetheart Diva at all. “Do you need me to get you more water or something to eat?”

Ronnie shook her head. “No. I’m fine. You can go…do something else.” She tottered toward the cabin door, then turned back. “I’m glad you’re not mad at him, Monica. He really is cute.”

Monica stood in the doorway watching Ronnie sidle down toward the hot springs pool where Glenn had the cameras set up. She should probably go down there too. Or something. She gathered up her clipboard and pen and started out the door.

“Monica?”

Paul stood in the alcove next to the door. Like Ronnie, he was wearing a swimsuit. Unlike Ronnie, he didn’t look like wardrobe had purchased it at the local big box store. The muscles of his chest and arms were outlined in shadow, his skin dark olive in the shade. His abs weren’t quite a six-pack, but they were close. Apparently, even writers worked out in Hollywood.

Monica licked her lips. Nobody should look that good with goosebumps. “We shouldn’t be talking to each other, Paul. Glenn won’t like it.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

She licked her lips again. “Sorry?”

“About last night.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “It was male pattern dumbness. Or something.”

“Last night.” She managed not to let the corners of her mouth creep up. Suffering was good for him.

“I was worried.” He sighed, his hand dropping to his side. “I didn’t know what happened to you. And then I took it out on you because I was worried. So…I’m sorry.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that okay you accept my apology or okay you’ll think about it?”

“Okay, your apology is accepted.” She let the smile widen now. “But we still shouldn’t be talking to each other. Glenn’s been in a really shitty mood the last couple of days.”

“I have to get down there anyway.” He nodded toward the hot spring pools below. “Want to get together after we’re done here?”

“Maybe. If there’s time.”

He stepped closer. “I have a wagon.”

“You have a wagon.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to catch up. Was that some kind of euphemism she hadn’t heard yet? “You mean a Radio Flyer kind of wagon?”

“No I mean a gypsy wagon. Which they rent out here. To campers.” His teeth flashed white in the darkness. “Want to camp, lady?”

Her temperature immediately spiked a couple of degrees. “You’ll probably have interviews to do after this.”

He brought his hand to her cheek, running his fingers through the edge of her hair. “They’ll probably do them tomorrow instead of having us stand around shivering. And Sid said Ronnie wouldn’t make any decisions until tomorrow night. Gypsy wagon? Tonight?”

Her heart thumped almost painfully. This was a really dumb thing to consider doing. On the other hand, being smart hadn’t gotten her all that far lately. “Where should we meet?”

He nodded toward the far end of the pond. “Down there after they finish shooting. I’m using the wagon to change.”

“Paul?” Sid stood at the bottom of the path looking back at them dubiously. “You ready?”

He sighed. “Ready.” His fingers brushed her hand as he walked by, smiling. “See you,” he murmured.

Monica watched him walk down the path, telling herself she really wasn’t paying that much attention to his ass. Then telling herself to knock it off because of course she was. Then, once he blended into the crowd at the pool, telling herself to go down and join the crew.

Her heart gave another of those quick thumps as she did. Apparently, she could kid her mind but not her body.

Chapter Nineteen

A couple of hours later, Monica stood with the rest of the crew, watching the conclusion of the group date. Nobody seemed all that comfortable in the water, even though it was warm, considering that the evening air was chilling everything that wasn’t submerged. Ronnie blathered on about how wonderful it was here in the Rockies, but she didn’t look like she believed it. Darryl’s script had provided her with cues, but her heart wasn’t in it.

Paul leaned on the bar and looked like he was pretending to listen. Brendan and Billy Joe really were listening, they just didn’t seem to care what Ronnie said.

“Oh yeah,” Monica muttered. “This should be a terrific episode.”

Glenn tried different angles. He had the announcer do a couple of impromptu interviews. He even had Faisal do a quick pan of the people floating in the “suits optional” section, or at least those people in the section who were floating on their stomachs. Monica figured they’d fuzz everything over later.

Finally he pulled off his earphones, striding away along the side of the pool without a word. The more knowledgeable members of the crew were careful to stay out of his way.

“That’s it, people,” Sid called. “We’re done for the night. Get changed and we’ll drive you back to the resort.”

Brendan and Billy Joe escorted Ronnie to the steps out of the pool. One of the wardrobe girls rushed over with a terrycloth robe. Monica watched Paul.

He swam easily to the far side of the pool where he climbed out, pulling a towel out from under one of the benches. As he glanced up, his dark eyes met hers.

Monica felt his gaze all the way to her toes, which promptly curled. “Oh man,” she breathed. “Trouble on a stick.”

His lips curved up into a faint grin. Then he nodded toward the trees behind him, rubbing the towel across his wet hair.

Billy Joe and Brendan both headed in the opposite direction toward the cabin the company had rented for the men to change in.

Monica glanced back at the others. Ronnie was wrapped in her terrycloth robe, her hair loose across her shoulders. The wardrobe people were walking with her. Sid was watching the crew pack up. Glenn had disappeared.

She took a quick survey of the pool area to make sure no one was watching. Now that the television lights had been turned off and the cameras removed, more people were pulling off their suits, which seemed to be drawing most of the crew’s attention for obvious reasons. Monica kept her gaze on her feet as she moved around the pool. Why was it always the people you didn’t want to see naked who stripped off their clothes so quickly?

The path where Paul had disappeared was a wide swath of white gravel between tall pines and aspen. A couple of electric lanterns glowed ineffectually along the sides, creating small halos of light but leaving most of the path in darkness. She moved her feet carefully over the gravel, trying not to slide or trip.

“Monica?” Paul’s voice came from somewhere ahead of her.

“Where are you?” she murmured.

“Just keep coming this way. You’re almost here.”

He stepped forward at the end of the canopy of trees, extending his hand. He’d changed out of his swimsuit into jeans and T-shirt, but he still looked like trouble. Monica drew a deep breath, then blew it out and moved into the clearing beside him.

He took her hand, pulling her gently along. “The wagon’s over here.”

Monica blinked. The gypsy wagon looked like something out of a western movie. Warm brown wood with a curved tin roof. There was a narrow front door a few feet above the ground with a small ladder leading up. The spoked wheels had blocks to hold them in place. “Wow,” she murmured.

Paul reached up and opened the door, grinning. “Sort of makes you appreciate what it was like to drive one of these babies cross country. Of course, it’s not exactly palatial.”

She glanced in as she climbed the ladder. An electric camping lantern illuminated one end, and windows in the sides provided views of the stars. Still, the interior was so dim she found herself shuffling.

“Careful,” he said behind her. “It’s kind of narrow.”

She reached down to feel the benches on either side running to the end. Or rather, running to the shelf at the end that served as a bed.

Paul closed the door behind them. “The management doesn’t provide a whole lot in the way of amenities with these things. There’s a mattress, but God only knows how many people have slept on it. That’s a new sleeping bag on top. I bought it this afternoon.”

Monica stood staring, suddenly overcome with shyness. She wasn’t sure she was quite ready to dive into bed as soon as she stepped inside. Maybe she still had a few ounces of propriety left after all.

“It’s okay, Monica,” he said gently. “Just have a seat. I’ve got some cheese and wine if you want.”

“I think I do,” she stammered. “Want it, that is. I’m hungry.” She sank down on the bench at the side.

After a moment, Paul sat down on the sleeping bag spread across from her, pulling a bottle of wine from a duffle bag on the floor. “It’s still sort of cold,” he said, pouring her a glass.

“It’s fine.” She took a deep breath, glancing around the wagon. “This is really…interesting.”

He stared at her for a moment before his lips edged up in a grin. “Interesting. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“How did you find out about it?”

He shrugged. “I had a conversation with Nona Monteith. She told me about them.”

“You talked about this with Nona?” Monica tried to keep the consternation out of her voice. Nona was a perfectly nice woman. She just didn’t necessarily want Nona monitoring her sex life.

“She told me about Carter’s Falls and what it had to offer.” Paul was still grinning. “I didn’t exactly discuss this particular plan with her.”

“Oh hell.” She placed the glass on the bench beside her. “I’m nervous, okay? I’m not sure why, but I am. So I’m going to say something stupid fairly soon. Just be ready for it.”

He reached across, taking her hand in his. “You don’t need to be nervous, Monica. And by the way, Ronnie says she’s definitely cutting me tomorrow. She also says she thinks we look cute together.”

Monica grimaced. “Terrific.”

His finger moved along the slope of her nose, lightly. “I think so too, if it matters. At least in your case.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, smiling at the warmth of his touch. “That’s good to know.”

“Monica?”

He paused, long enough that she opened her eyes. “Yes?”

“What are you going to do when this all finishes up?”

She blinked, trying to see his face more clearly in the darkness. “Go back home. Help put the final shows together. Get ready for the next season of
Finding Miss Right
.” She ignored the slightly hollow feeling in her chest. It was as good a plan as any. Even if she had a hard time working up any enthusiasm about it. “Why? Aren’t you going to work on
Miss Right
too?”