All-American Princess - Maggie Dallen Page 0,1

do without complaint. Okay fine, without an excessive amount of whining, at least—and then I’d call it a day. I took a deep breath and gave my father the response he wanted to hear, “We won’t be here long enough to need a new place, Daddy.”

“That’s my princess.” The pride in his voice warmed me even though I knew he was just buttering me up. Right now, he needed me more than I needed him.

My father’s whole plan to reboot the hit primetime drama Love on the Range was dependent on me accomplishing my mission.

I was here to convince Brandon MacMillan to reprise the role of Colt Ranger, the part his father Frank MacMillan had made a household name back in the day.

Brandon had been a star in his own right—a child star but beloved nonetheless. He’d played the part of Colt Ranger’s son, and fans had eaten it up. A real-life father and son playing father and son? It didn’t get much cuter than that. Adorableness aside, Frank MacMillan and his family personified the American dream. There was the aw-shucks, down-home, humble rancher making it big in Hollywood alongside his fresh-faced, apple pie-making wife and their cherubic son. The MacMillans were basically a PR wet dream.

Right up until Frank MacMillan died of an accidental drug overdose anyway.

But even with that dark cloud hanging over them, the MacMillans were still a household name. If anything, the tragic accident had made Frank a legend and his son the beloved heir to that legacy.

My father’s plan was to bring the show back, with America’s favorite son taking over the role that his dad had made famous. There was already buzz about a reboot, but its success hinged on getting as much of the original cast to return as possible. All the other key players were on board, but it was the role of Colt Ranger that everyone cared about most. He was the heart and soul of the show, and to replace the late, great Frank MacMillan was sacrilege to some of the more hardcore fans. But even that loyal tribe could be brought to love the reboot if Brandon MacMillan were to take over the iconic role. He was the only person who made sense, and the only one Frank’s diehard fans wouldn’t resent.

So, basically, Brandon MacMillan was the linchpin in my father’s grand plan. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than success with this mission, and it was up to me to make it happen. Once I convinced Brandon to return to Hollywood, I could go back home with Brandon on my arm and a starring role in the series reprisal.

Being the executive producer’s daughter had its perks, but like I said—we all had to work for what we got. My father was a big believer in work ethic, which might have been commendable if his definition of ‘work ethic’ didn’t currently coincide with the job description of an escort.

I’m not ordering you to sleep with him. That was my father’s response when I’d accused him of whoring me out. Just pretend to like him; go out on some dates with him. Let him see how good life could be if he came back home.

It seemed my father’s standard tactics of persuasion had been stonewalled at every turn. Sending in his teenage daughter in the hopes of appealing to Brandon’s hormones was the next step. I’d love to say this was as low as he’d ever stooped, but anyone who’d ever heard of my father would spot that lie a million miles away.

No one became as successful as my dad without getting his hands dirty. And his daughters’ hands dirty, and his wife’s hands dirty...

To be a Devereaux was a dirty job, but it came with some epic perks.

I turned back to look out at the dismal overcast day in this thriving metropolis. It was those perks I needed to focus on now. I had to keep my eye on the prize if I was going to make it through this stint in Siberia.

Why Brandon and his mother had chosen to come back here to live after Frank’s death? I wish I knew. Maybe it was nostalgia or something. This was where Frank had been born and raised and where his family spent all their time when they weren’t on set.

Still… they could have gone anywhere, and they chose this? I eyed the abandoned street with a sniff, but a flicker of movement just below my window caught my eye.