One Week with the Best Man: Reclaimed by the Rancher
“We close for a week between Christmas and New Year’s. That would cover some of it,” Natalie said. “Or you could go later in the spring. If you work ahead with the printing, we can get someone to cover the decorating. What matters is that you’d have the money in hand to go. What can it hurt?”
“Yeah, Gretchen,” Bree chimed in. “It’s a lot of money, and for what? Clinging to the hard body of Julian Cooper with a loving look in your eyes? Dancing with him at the reception and maybe kissing him for the cameras?”
Gretchen tightened her jaw, choking down another argument, because she knew Bree was right. All she had to do was suck it up for a few days and she could go to Italy. She’d never have another opportunity like this.
“Besides,” Bree added, “how bad can faking it with a sexy movie star really be?”
* * *
If Ross hadn’t been personally responsible for Julian’s career success, Julian would throttle him right this second.
“A date? A fake date? Really, Ross?”
“I think it will be good for your image.”
Julian sipped his bottled water and leaned against the arm of the chair in his Nashville hotel suite. “Do I look that pathetic and heartbroken over my breakup with Bridgette?”
“Of course not,” Ross soothed. “I just want to make sure that her management team doesn’t outsmart us. She’s already been seen out with Paul Watson. If you don’t move on fast enough, you’ll get painted as lovesick for her.”
“I don’t care,” Julian exclaimed. “Despite what everyone thinks, I broke up with Bridgette six months ago. We only went out publicly because you insisted on it.”
“I didn’t insist,” Ross protested. “The studio insisted. Your romance was a huge selling point for the film. They couldn’t have you two break up before it even came out.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Julian said dismissively. “If I ever even look twice at one of my costars again, you haul me off and remind me of this moment. But now it’s done. I’m over Bridgette and I’m way over dating someone just for the cameras.”
Ross held up his hands. “It won’t be like that. I swear. Besides, it’s already done. She’ll be here to meet you in about five minutes.”
“Ross!” Julian shouted, rising to his full height to intimidate his short, round manager. “You can’t just do stuff like this without my permission.”
“Yes, I can. It’s what you pay me to do. You’ll thank me later.”
Julian pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. “Who is it? Some country music singer? Did you import an actress from Hollywood?”
“No, none of that. They tell me she’s one of the employees at the wedding chapel. Just your everyday girl.”
“Wait. I thought after what happened with that waitress you didn’t want me dating ‘regular’ women. You said they were a bigger security risk than another star with her own career to protect. You said I needed to stick to women that didn’t need my money or my fame.” Julian had been dealing strictly with high-and-mighty starlets the past few years at Ross’s insistence, but now, a regular girl was okay because he said so?
“I know, and normally that’s the case. That waitress just wanted to dig up dirt on you to make a buck with the tabloids. There are a million women just like her in Hollywood. But in this scenario I think it’s a smart choice. Women in Nashville are different, and it’s an unexpected move. Your female fans will like it, of course, and so will the studios. I’ve been trying to get you a role as a true romantic lead. This could do it.”
Julian didn’t really want to be a romantic lead. At least not by Ross’s definition. His manager’s idea of a romantic film was one where the sexy blonde clings to his half-naked body while he shoots the bad guys. He’d already played that role again and again. When he’d pushed Ross on the topic a second time, he got Julian the “romantic” lead in a movie about male strippers. Not exactly hard-hitting, award-winning stuff. Hell, he’d be thrilled to just do a light romantic comedy. Something without explosions. Or machine guns. Or G-strings.
“I should fire you for this,” Julian complained as he dropped down into his chair. It was a hollow threat, and they both knew it. Ross had made Julian’s career. He might not be creatively fulfilled by big-budget action films, but the money was ridiculous and Julian needed every penny.