in here.”
“You scared me! I wasn’t expecting you!” I said, as I buried my head into his chest, emotions overwhelming me.
My dad was in his early fifties and more handsome than any Hollywood actor could get. He had a full head of black hair, with just a little gray around the temples and a wicked smile. My mother had passed away when I was young and the only family I had was Dad.
I cried into his flannel shirt and inhaled his scent.
He smelled like the outdoors, fresh and breezy and woodsy at the same time. He was as solid as an oak and was always,
always
in my corner.
Dad was an almond farmer. He’d been my champion since before I even knew what a champion was.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’m your surprise guest!”
I covered my heart with my hand. “Thank God. Part of me feared they’d pull out old Mrs. Windbag.”
Dad laughed. Mrs. Windbag was the nickname we’d given my first grade teacher, who’d sent scads of notes home complaining about my inability to sit still at school.
Dad had ignored those notes, saying in his best hick voice, “Sitting all day ain’t natural. Kids oughta be out running all day. Helping out with the farm.”
And, of course, that was what I did every day of my life until the age of fifteen, when I’d suddenly discovered boys. Then the farm and our small town seemed like a waste of time. I’d set my sights on a city. I wanted to grow up to be a city girl.
Cosmopolitan allure.
Who knew it would turn out to be overrated?
Dad stroked my hair. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Oh, Dad! If only you knew! But I don’t have time to fill you in right now. I have to be back on the set in a few minutes. When can I see you next?”
“Well, I’m free all afternoon,” Dad said.
“Come to my Prevost coach after we finish filming here, okay?”
Dad nodded. “Oh! And remember, you’re not supposed to know it’s me. So act surprised when they announce me.”
I glanced at my watch and smiled. “I have to go.” I kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I turned toward the door of the dressing room. I couldn’t wait to get my date over with so that I could sneak another chat with Dad. Seeing him had felt so right. Like a prayer answered by God. Now I suddenly felt I could continue with the charade of the show.
With Dad as my counsel, I might actually have a chance of winning. Not that I harbored any hopes of actually falling in love, but maybe if I figured out who was on the show for the right reasons we’d get to split the prize money. And maybe, just maybe, I could figure out what had happened to Pietro and Aaron.
• • • • • • • • •
I pulled open the door to exit my dressing room and ran right into Ophelia. She straightened when she saw my dad standing in the middle of the room.
I shut the door and stuttered.
“I didn’t see a thing,” Ophelia said. “Let’s get back to the set and I’ll do a quick touch-up on your hair there.”
We walked in silence.
When we got back to the set, Ophelia straightened the ends of my hair and gave me a thumbs-up.
I resumed my position near Richard. He was smiling and welcoming. I tried to look enthusiastic about our date and plastered a grin on my face.
Cheryl called, “Action!”
Richard linked his arm through mine and we strolled toward the popcorn booth.
“Want a snack?” he asked.
I didn’t really, but felt bad saying so, so I conjured up a little excitement in my voice. “Yum. Popcorn.”
I must not have done a great job, though, because Richard said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want it. We can sit on the bench and chat.”
I glanced over toward the canoe rides. “Or, we can go for a ride.”
He followed my gaze. “The canoe ride?” he asked, incredulity thick in his voice.
I giggled more from nervousness than anything else and then regretted it. Giggling always made me feel like a ninny.
“I don’t think
“You scared me! I wasn’t expecting you!” I said, as I buried my head into his chest, emotions overwhelming me.
My dad was in his early fifties and more handsome than any Hollywood actor could get. He had a full head of black hair, with just a little gray around the temples and a wicked smile. My mother had passed away when I was young and the only family I had was Dad.
I cried into his flannel shirt and inhaled his scent.
He smelled like the outdoors, fresh and breezy and woodsy at the same time. He was as solid as an oak and was always,
always
in my corner.
Dad was an almond farmer. He’d been my champion since before I even knew what a champion was.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’m your surprise guest!”
I covered my heart with my hand. “Thank God. Part of me feared they’d pull out old Mrs. Windbag.”
Dad laughed. Mrs. Windbag was the nickname we’d given my first grade teacher, who’d sent scads of notes home complaining about my inability to sit still at school.
Dad had ignored those notes, saying in his best hick voice, “Sitting all day ain’t natural. Kids oughta be out running all day. Helping out with the farm.”
And, of course, that was what I did every day of my life until the age of fifteen, when I’d suddenly discovered boys. Then the farm and our small town seemed like a waste of time. I’d set my sights on a city. I wanted to grow up to be a city girl.
Cosmopolitan allure.
Who knew it would turn out to be overrated?
Dad stroked my hair. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Oh, Dad! If only you knew! But I don’t have time to fill you in right now. I have to be back on the set in a few minutes. When can I see you next?”
“Well, I’m free all afternoon,” Dad said.
“Come to my Prevost coach after we finish filming here, okay?”
Dad nodded. “Oh! And remember, you’re not supposed to know it’s me. So act surprised when they announce me.”
I glanced at my watch and smiled. “I have to go.” I kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I turned toward the door of the dressing room. I couldn’t wait to get my date over with so that I could sneak another chat with Dad. Seeing him had felt so right. Like a prayer answered by God. Now I suddenly felt I could continue with the charade of the show.
With Dad as my counsel, I might actually have a chance of winning. Not that I harbored any hopes of actually falling in love, but maybe if I figured out who was on the show for the right reasons we’d get to split the prize money. And maybe, just maybe, I could figure out what had happened to Pietro and Aaron.
• • • • • • • • •
I pulled open the door to exit my dressing room and ran right into Ophelia. She straightened when she saw my dad standing in the middle of the room.
I shut the door and stuttered.
“I didn’t see a thing,” Ophelia said. “Let’s get back to the set and I’ll do a quick touch-up on your hair there.”
We walked in silence.
When we got back to the set, Ophelia straightened the ends of my hair and gave me a thumbs-up.
I resumed my position near Richard. He was smiling and welcoming. I tried to look enthusiastic about our date and plastered a grin on my face.
Cheryl called, “Action!”
Richard linked his arm through mine and we strolled toward the popcorn booth.
“Want a snack?” he asked.
I didn’t really, but felt bad saying so, so I conjured up a little excitement in my voice. “Yum. Popcorn.”
I must not have done a great job, though, because Richard said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want it. We can sit on the bench and chat.”
I glanced over toward the canoe rides. “Or, we can go for a ride.”
He followed my gaze. “The canoe ride?” he asked, incredulity thick in his voice.
I giggled more from nervousness than anything else and then regretted it. Giggling always made me feel like a ninny.
“I don’t think
Similar Books
