“I do what I can,” she said lightly. “If there are any particular goods or services you need in town, just let me know.”
His dark gaze settled on her face. His mouth curved into one of those smiles designed to make a woman do just about anything. “I’ve been looking for a place to have dinner,” he said. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere a man can have a conversation with a beautiful woman.”
If she’d been standing, she would have been in danger of tumbling over in shock. Was Finn asking her out to dinner? Or was he talking about someone else? It was pretty presumptuous of her to assume she was the beautiful woman in question. If he had said reasonably attractive, that she could have bought into.
“Well, I…” She paused, not sure what to say.
Finn shook his head. “I’m obviously out of practice. I was trying to ask you out to dinner, Dakota.”
“Oh.” Now was her turn to smile. “I’d like that.” Then before she could stop herself, she added, “What if I cook? I mean, you could come to my place. I don’t do gourmet or anything, but I know a couple of good recipes.”
“Sounds perfect,” he told her. “Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“Works for me.”
They settled on a time and she gave him her address. When he left, Dakota found herself smiling just a little more broadly as she picked up the phone to call another hotel in San Diego.
AURELIA STOOD in front of Geoff’s desk and did her best to look confident, rather than horrified. Despite his jeans and worn T-shirt, a Hollywood producer intimidated her. Not a huge surprise, she thought. Most people intimidated her. The only place Aurelia felt confident was at work. In her office, with her computer and her numbers, she ruled her world. Everywhere else, it was all she could do not to apologize for simply breathing.
“There’s been a mistake,” she said, forcing herself to stare at him rather than at the ground. “I really appreciate being picked for the show. I didn’t expect to be. It’s just…”
How to say it? How to explain the truth without confessing her deepest, darkest secrets?
“I’m not a cougar,” she said, speaking very quickly. “I’m actually allergic to cats. I’m not a man magnet.” She could feel herself blushing. The man magnet statement was ridiculous. Geoff could tell what she was and wasn’t simply by looking at her.
The producer glanced up from the laptop on his desk and frowned, as if he hadn’t known she was in the room. “Who are you?”
“Aurelia. I’m paired with Stephen. He’s one of the twins. They’re twenty-one.” She twisted her fingers together, not sure how she was going to make him understand. “Maybe there was a mistake. Or we could make a change. What if I was with someone older? Maybe a widower with a disadvantaged kid. I could do that.”
Geoff returned his attention back to his laptop. “Not gonna happen. We need ratings. There are no ratings with a widower and some kid. Cougars are hot right now. It’ll be fun.”
She could tell he’d already lost interest in the conversation. Normally, she would simply accept whatever the circumstance was and go with it. But this time she couldn’t. This time she had to fight.
She squared her shoulders and stared at the man who held her destiny in his indifferent hands. “No,” she said firmly. “I’m not a cougar. Look at me.” When he didn’t glance up from his computer screen, she repeated the instruction. “Look at me!”
Reluctantly, Geoff raised his gaze from his screen. “I don’t have time for this,” he began.
“You’re going to make time,” Aurelia told him. “I’m only on this show because my mother insisted. She makes my life a living hell, and you don’t get to do that to me, too. Sure I want to meet someone. Sure I want to get married and have children. I want a normal life. But I’m never going to have that with her around, dragging me down. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I did this, I could catch a break.”
She felt her eyes starting to burn with tears and did her best to blink them back. “And look what happened. You put me with a child!”
When she’d finished, she expected Geoff to tell her to get out and return his attention to his computer. Instead he leaned back in his chair, folded his hands behind his head and studied her.
She felt his slow gaze start at her mousy brown hair and move down to her knees, which was about all that was visible, what with her standing in front of his desk.
She’d come straight from work, so she was dressed in one of her conservative navy suits. They were a uniform of sorts. She had five, along with two black suits and one in pale gray for when it was really hot in the summer.
On the same rack in her closet were an assortment of blouses. On the carpet below were a row of sensible, low-heeled pumps. Hers was not a wardrobe any cougar would be caught dead in.
Geoff dropped his hands to the desk. “You’re right—you’re not a cougar. But sex sells and a woman on the prowl is interesting to viewers.”