Show Time (Juniper Ridge Romantic Comedies #1) - Tawna Fenske Page 0,18
appreciating Vanessa’s ability to think on hers. “Sounds like a plan.”
She falls into step beside me as I head down the hall and toward the lodge’s side exit. The high desert sun blazes warm and bright as we make our way along the crushed cinder pathway toward the building that houses the waterpark. Sunlight glints in her dark hair, and something warm sloshes in my belly. I’m not sure if I’m smelling desert wildflowers or Vanessa, but I’m enjoying it either way.
“I can’t get over the idea that I have a waterpark just a few hundred yards from my house.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Bumper cars, too.”
“There’s a lot of weird stuff the BONK members built out here,” I admit. “Even a bomb shelter under one of those big wheat fields to the north. It can hold several hundred people in a pinch.”
“Wow.” A thick wave of chlorine smacks into us as she pulls open the door, and I’m transported back to childhood summers at my family’s estate. “I had no idea most of this stuff was out here. I watched the news when BONK was getting shut down, but I’d written them off as just a crazy cult. I didn’t realize they were so….”
“Organized?”
“Resourceful.” She beelines it toward the tables at the far edge of the space. I follow her past the indoor wave pool and a smaller, shallower pool filled with play equipment for kids.
Vanessa picks her way around spouting fountains toward the five-story enclosed waterslide that empties into a deep pool of turquoise. There’s a table close to the edge, and she sets down her bag and pulls out her laptop. “Thanks for sending over those advertiser profiles last night. It’s helpful to know what we’ve got to work with.”
I take a seat across from her and set down my own laptop. “Some of the advertisers have very specific requirements for the sort of content they’d like tied to their brands.”
“I can imagine.” She cocks her head. “Isn’t it tough to control that in reality television?”
“There are always ways to control things.”
Something flashes in her eyes, and I wish I could take back my words.
“Good to know,” she says simply, and goes back to powering up her laptop.
I clear my throat and toggle to my desktop files. “I’m AirDropping you some of the storyboard stuff that Gabe and Lauren put together. There aren’t any guarantees with unscripted reality TV, but this should give you an idea what sort of content we’re aiming for.”
“Got it.” She slips a pair of glasses out of her purse, then reaches in again and pulls out a full-sized bag of tortilla chips. “Want some?”
“Uh—thanks.” I glance at the purse, wondering what else she’s got in there. “I forgot lunch.”
“I’ve got salsa, too.” She extracts a sealed jar and pops the top, then reaches back into her bag. “Apple or pear?”
“Are you traveling with an entire grocery store?”
She laughs and sets both pieces of fruit on the table. “I like being prepared.”
I can’t imagine how heavy her purse must be, but I’m grateful for the snacks. I bite into the apple, savoring the crisp tartness as Vanessa gets to work opening the document. “Just give me a couple minutes to skim through this.”
“Take your time.” I should probably fire off another message to the PI or the police, but I catch myself watching Vanessa instead. I love how she’s hit the ground running. How she’s taking charge and fitting right in.
Stop staring at her, you fucking creep.
I drag my gaze off her and take another bite of apple as I survey the space. There’s a faux rock grotto in the corner, complete with waterfall. It reminds me of the resort in Jamaica where Andrea and I vacationed together. This was a month or two before the split, and the sight of those mossy rocks fills me with—
“Longing and lust.”
Vanessa’s voice yanks me back to reality with a thud, and I respond without thinking. “Definitely not.”
She blinks. “What?”
I’m such a dumbass. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
Her expression is bemused as she nods at her laptop. “That’s a common theme for a lot of these story setups. Try to find community members who seem compatible, then arrange for them to be together in close proximity.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’s part of the social experiment, I guess. Watching people fall for each other. Filming the fallout when they split up.”
Vanessa’s brow lifts as she dips a chip into the salsa jar. “That’s a very cynical view.”