Read Causing a Commotion Online
Authors: Janice Lynn
Tags: #Humor & Entertainment, #Humor, #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy
Causing a Commotion (7 page)
“The network plans to rename the show. You have any ideas?”
“The Jessie Davidson Show?” Her lips twitched.
“I doubt the network will use either of your names. They want something that’s going to cause a commotion in the entertainment world.”
“Cause a commotion? I like that,” Jessie cooed.
J.P. did, too. It’s how he’d described her to Maxwell. “Perhaps I’ll pitch Causing a Commotion and see if Wolf’ll go for it.”
“You said entertainment, but Colin’s show is about politics and the like.”
He doubted she’d known that when he spoke with her earlier. She’d been fishing or Colin had tried to dissuade her. Damn fool probably didn’t realize that telling a woman like Jessie no was waving a red flag in front of a bull.
J.P. hadn’t had six wives without learning a few things.
“You’ll be able to discuss most anything you want. Entertainment, sports, fashion.”
“Really?” She looked suspicious. “I won’t have to report on wars and embezzlement and religion gone bad?”
“Not unless you want to. I’ll be brainstorming with Colin and whoever the new hostess is to come up with show ideas. Nothing’s set in stone at this point so whoever signs on would have a lot of creative input.”
Jessie pretended to be considering his words. Thanks to Colin’s attempts to discourage her she was going to take the job. J.P. suppressed his smile.
“Let’s just say I decided to change my mind and take you up on this hostessing gig, what about my wardrobe?”
“Wardrobe?” He was offering her the opportunity of a lifetime and she was worried about clothes?
“What I’ll wear each show,” she gave him a duh look, “will I have a wardrobe?”
What was he thinking? She was a woman, of course, she was worried about what she’d wear. Every woman in Hollywood was.
“You’ll have input. Lots of input.” At her Cheshire smile, he felt inclined to elaborate. “I can’t guarantee that you can keep the outfits, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“What about an assistant? My own makeup and hair artist? I’ll want to look good.”
A simple enough request. He didn’t think Maxwell would have a problem with it. “Of course you’ll have a make-up and hair artist. We want you to look spectacular. Not that you could look anything but,” he quickly added at her raised brow.
He’d learned lots about women during those six marriages.
“Even if I took the job, I’d still be auditioning for acting roles. Landing a big part is my ultimate goal. If that happens, I’ll want the freedom to pursue that goal.”
“We can work a clause into your contract that grants you freedom should you decide to leave.” J.P. upped the ante. “Think how much easier it’ll be when you make this talk show a success and every household knows your name.”
“How much does this position pay? I’m not cheap, you know,” she reminded.
“Of course not.” J.P. started to tell her the generous amount he’d been authorized to offer, but the arrival of the boss man stopped him. Especially when Maxwell smiled at Jessie, raked his gaze over her from head-to-toe and back again and named a figure double to what J.P. had been about to say. He almost whistled at the sum. Maxwell just iced the cake.
Jessie’s lids lowered and her glossy red lips parted, then turned up in a brilliant smile. A sexy-as-hell and I’m-going-to-rock-your-world smile. Not that she was one bit interested in Maxwell, but Jessie knew how to twist men around her fingers.
Speaking of Jessie’s fingers, they were straightening Maxwell’s immaculate tie. J.P. swore Maxwell puffed out his chest and sucked in his non-existent gut. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Nor did he have a wedding ring. Damn.
Involuntarily, J.P. looked up to catch Maria’s pale, angry face.
Jessie batted her long lashes at Maxwell, oblivious that venom steamed from his wife’s every pore, oblivious to the fact Maxwell was even married since the man sure wasn’t setting her straight.
“You can keep the clothes you wear on the show if you want them,” Maxwell added, sounding more like an eager kid than a high-powered executive.
“Well, if I can keep the clothes,” Jessie smiled, flashing a wink towards J.P. Damn clever girl. “Where do I sign up?”
* * *
“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Colin paced across the room, not caring that Maxwell all but ignored him. “Absolutely no way is my show being turned into a circus act. I report world news, not Biker-babe Nuns who do Vegas.”
“Fine.” Maxwell shrugged. “Jessie can have your show and you can beg her for the occasional guest segment. Perhaps one on has-been talk show hosts.”
Jessie. Jessie Davidson. He’d discovered her name within seconds of her walking away from him last Friday night and the name danced in his head all weekend. As did the woman.
It irked that she’d refused to tell him. Which was exactly why she hadn’t. She liked to irk. What a woman.
Not that he liked her.
She was an actress.
One Maxwell hired to co-host Colin’s show.
Hell, no. Not while breath blew from his has-been talk show host lungs.
“I’ll never do it.”
Maxwell didn’t look concerned. “Your choice, but Jessie Davidson will be on the show. Whether or not you are is entirely up to you.” Maxwell eyed him a moment, then smirked. “Well, actually as top man at the company it’s up to me, but, lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today.”
“Damn it. Just because she’s got great store-bought tits and a nice ass doesn’t mean you should put her on my show.”
“I didn’t pick her. J.P. did.”
“What does he know?”
“Enough to get a reality television show top ratings.”
“Luck.”
“Hard work.”
“By Lancaster.”
“And J.P.
Jane Millionaire
was his brainchild, not Rob Lancaster’s.”
Colin hmmpfed. “You don’t really believe that?”
“Yes. Although he’s had a string of bad luck over the past few years he’s doing well and earning a new wave of respect.”
“This is
my
show.”
“On
my
network.”
Colin would like to point out that it hadn’t been Maxwell’s network until he married the owner’s only daughter. The company CEO’s son marrying the company owner’s daughter. How convenient. He didn’t think pointing that out would go over well. He didn’t want to antagonize Maxwell.
Maxwell already looked antagonized. And distracted. Twitter-patted, as the ten and eleven-year-old boys he coached would say. That’s when he knew.
She stood in the open doorway.
She being none other than Jessie Davidson.
Despite not really wanting to, he turned.
Long, shiny blond hair haloed her angelic face. Amazing green eyes flashed and a grin played on her full lips that had probably been collagen-filled more times than she could count. Her hands rested on her hips. Hips covered in a slinky black skirt that showed off amazing long legs and sexy feet encased in a pair of killer green heels that matched her shirt. Hot damn.
“You think I have a nice ass and tits?” Her pursed lips twitched.
Hell. How much had she heard?
“For the record,” her hips swayed and her body did an odd bounce that she somehow pulled off to look incredibly sexy. Or maybe it was just that anything the woman did
was
sexy, because he was sure that bounce would be preposterous on anyone else. “They’re authentic Jessie Davidson and can’t be found in any store catalog.” She winked outrageously. “Although I’m sure they’d be a best seller if they could be surgically replicated.”
Both his and Maxwell’s gazes dropped to her generous bosom. Those were real? He didn’t believe it. He’d be happy to volunteer to find out, though.
No, he wouldn’t
.
He needed to stay the hell away from her. She maimed men and took great pleasure in doing so.
Real?
He looked away and crammed his hands into his slack pockets.
She fluttered her lashes, ran her fingertips over the lapel of her shirt, drawing his attention back to her ample chest. “I can understand why you might think you’d seen them in a wish book, though.”
She had a sharp tongue. And a nice rack. He glanced up, met her flirty expression, and resented that she toyed with him yet again.
“On the clearance pages?” he tossed, determined to take her down a peg or two.
“Not hardly.” Her gaze narrowed, shot daggers, then she turned her full attention to Maxwell. Jessie’s full attention was something to behold. Something to be envied. Coveted. Desired.
Feared
. “I’m betting that suit didn’t come off any clearance pages, either.” She ate Maxwell up with her eyes, curved her lush lips in his direction. “Very nice.”
Colin didn’t have to look at his boss to agree. Maxwell always wore tailor-made designer suits that fit him to a T. What he didn’t wear was his wedding ring.
“Maria pick it out?” Colin asked, ignoring the niggle that his doing so had little to do with any goodness in his heart.
Maxwell scowled.
Jessie’s eyes cut to him.
Colin pushed his hands deeper into his pockets.
“Maria?” Her plucked brow lifted.
“His wife.”
“Wife?” Her eyes widened, dropped to Maxwell’s bare left hand. “You’re married?”
She had the gall to look disappointed. As if something like a golden band would prevent a woman like her from climbing the career ladder any way she could.
Maxwell shot Colin another displeased look, then nodded. “For ten years.”
“Oh.” Jessie’s lower lip pouted and her eyes strayed to Maxwell’s empty ring finger. She was good. “I missed the part about you belonging to some other lucky woman.”
“Does it matter?” Colin asked, earning another scowl just as J.P entered the room.
Jessie’s eyes met Maxwell’s and Colin’s gut clenched. He’d wanted her to deny it, to say that it did matter, but he’d known her answer without hearing, seeing it on her face.
“Whether or not my boss is married doesn’t really affect my job one way or the other, now does it?” She crossed the room and linked her elbow with Maxwell’s. “Are we going to go over the specifics of Causing a Commotion? Because I have a company credit card in my hot little hands and a shopping trip scheduled for this afternoon that I don’t want to miss.”
* * *
J.P. leaned back in his chair and watched the sparks fly between Jessie and Colin. A month into planning Causing a Commotion and they’d been at each other’s throats the entire time.
If looks could kill, Jessie would be six feet under dirt.
Colin, too.
Hell, if this ache in his hips didn’t ease, he was going to be, too, cause his damned arthritis was killing him.
“Look, you two. We go on air tomorrow, so you’d best get your act together or this show is going to flop and we’ll all be out of work.” This came from Beverly Gilley, a serious looking graying blond production assistant in her late forties. Way too old for his tastes, although almost young enough to be his daughter. She might be pretty if she’d smile. He’d more likely expect aliens to land than for her sour lips to lighten.
He couldn’t recall having ever worked with anyone so uptight and stern. Not even Colin proved as sour as Beverly. What had life thrown at her that made her so Nazi-like? Any moment he expected her to pull out a whip and command the room to behave or else. He closed his eyes and imagined her dominatrix style. It didn’t quite fit, yet there was a steely-ness to her resolve that should have made the image work.
Maybe it was that all his usual dominatrix images featured twenty-year-olds with hour-glass bodies. Beverly had a nice pear shape. Not sexy by his usual definition, but there was something appealing about her rotund bottom.
Everyone in the studio looked at him. What the hell for?
“J.P.,” Jessie called his attention. Apparently she and Colin butted heads. Again. No surprise there. “Please inform this arrogant snob that winning an erotic poetry contest is news and deserves coverage. I want to interview the author and have him read some of his work on air.”
“Erotic poetry?” Where did Jessie come up with this stuff?
“Porn,” Colin clarified, looking as if he’d like to snap Jessie’s neck in to. A blind man could see the attraction between the two hosts, but they bickered continuously. There was something to be said for the animosity between Colin and Jessie. It added a whole lot of excitement to the air.
If he could capture that on the show, they’d have a hit. It would be like Bruce Willis and Cybil Sheppard in Moonlighting all over again. Everyone would watch just to see when they figured out what everyone else already knew. That these two would be dynamite in the sack.
Of course, the real catch was making sure Jessie and Colin never figured it out so the magic wouldn’t fizzle. A show’s magic always fizzled once the couple had sex.
J.P. had to get this show off the ground, get ratings that would knock off ole Maxwell’s socks. An attraction between Jessie and Colin could work to his advantage. Or disadvantage. Depending on how he played his cards.
These days J.P. played to win.
“We’ll do it,” he said, earning a smile from Jessie and an exasperated look from Beverly.
