of it, every word that has come out of your mouth since we walked out of here four hours ago.”
Cool gray eyes attempted to feign innocence. “I can’t imagine why you would think I’d lie.”
“To make me mad,” she guessed.
“Never.” He grinned. “Perhaps to make you start living again.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Worked, too, didn’t it?”
Before she could argue that point as well, he turned on his heel and walked away, whistling lightly. She stared after him in confusion.
“What was that all about?” she murmured, touching her forehead where the skin still burned from the all-too-brief brush of his lips. What kind of sneaky, low-down tactics was Jason Kane using on her now? If he thought he could seduce her into agreeing to join the soap opera cast, he was very much mistaken. If he thought he could seduce her at all, for that matter, he was out of his mind.
Brave words, she thought as she sank onto the top step and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was trembling from head to toe, which pretty much told the story. Jason Kane could have her any time he put his mind to it.
Her only hope was that he had a short attention span. Perhaps if she failed to give in on any front, he’d tire of the chase.
Then she recalled that dangerous gleam in his eyes earlier, when she’d dared him about his sexual prowess. The memory made her groan. There wasn’t a male on the face of the earth who would ever walk away from a comment like that. She’d given him something to prove, something far more intriguing than the simple challenge of getting her to accept a job offer. No wonder he hadn’t mentioned the show all evening. She’d changed not only the rules of their game but the prize.
And judging from his smug expression as he’d walked away, he was ninety-eight percent certain that victory was within his grasp.
It was amazing how quickly life could take a totally unexpected twist and wind up with more complications than any soap opera script ever devised. Add in that earlier call from Eunice and her life was just about out of control.
Jason stared at the latest dismal ratings for Within Our Reach and muttered a string of expletives that had his junior executives turning pale. He scowled at Freddie.
“Is that new story line sketched out yet? The one for Ms. Smith?”
“Actually...”
He sensed he was about to hear a litany of excuses. “Is it or isn’t it?” he demanded.
Freddie drew in a deep breath. “The writers are a little concerned that they might be wasting time since Ms. Smith hasn’t even agreed to take the part yet.” His brow knit worriedly. “She hasn’t, has she?”
“Not yet,” Jason conceded irritably. “But she will. It’s only a matter of time.”
He thought of the evening he had spent with her just the night before. She was definitely weakening. Her startled expression when he’d kissed her, then the fleeting glimpse of wistfulness he’d caught in her eyes, had told him quite a bit about her current state of mind.
Of course, her resistance to him wasn’t exactly the issue. If he were being entirely truthful, he would have to admit that she was still pretty adamant about not taking the job. It occurred to him that she might be viewing it as some sort of windfall, perhaps even charity. Maybe he hadn’t explained the stakes for the network clearly enough.
The sponsors were already getting restless. He doubted if he could hold them off with promises for much longer. Another week or two of ratings like the ones he had before him and they’d be yanking their ads in droves or demanding price cuts that wouldn’t sustain the show’s costs.
Maybe he hadn’t fully expressed the bind he was in, the favor she would be doing him and her friend Terry, who stood to lose a job along with a lot of other people if Jason had to cancel the long-running series.
A smile slowly worked its way across his face as he considered this last. He’d seen for himself how tight Callie and Walker were. She was definitely the kind of compassionate, loyal woman who would do anything for a friend, maybe even take a job she claimed not to want.
“A few more days,” he told Freddie, exuding more confidence than he had felt only moments earlier. “Tell those writers by the time they deliver that outline, I’ll deliver Callie Smith.”
“Can you be a little more specific?” Freddie pleaded. “I think a firm date would reassure them.”
It was Thursday now. He glanced at his calendar and saw that he was tied up for the rest of the day, that evening and most of Friday. He didn’t bother checking Saturday or Sunday. Anything he had scheduled for the weekend could be canceled.
“Monday morning,” he said, his expression every bit as grim as if he were setting a deadline for a major military maneuver, which, in a manner of speaking, he was. He was about to launch a full-scale assault on Callie, the likes of which she’d never seen before.
He hadn’t looked forward to anything with more enthusiasm since he’d single-mindedly gone after the presidency of TGN. There were a lot of doubters at the network who’d said he couldn’t get that, either. Some of the most vocal were now working for very small independent stations in cities it was very difficult to find on a map.
* * *
When no flowers arrived on her doorstep on Thursday, Callie considered it a reprieve. When none turned up on Friday, she had to acknowledge the tiniest hint of disappointment. Apparently Jason Kane’s attention span was even shorter than she’d hoped. She indulged in half a bag of Hershey’s Nuggets to console herself. To her deep regret, the chocolate didn’t vastly improve her mood. All that sugar and caffeine just made her jittery.
What she really needed to boost her self-esteem was a job. Not a job as an actress but one in her chosen profession. It was time to aggressively go about getting one. She prayed that this wouldn’t be one more futile attempt like all the others she had made with compulsive urgency in the first forty-eight hours after being fired. She had driven herself into an exhausted frenzy trying to find something new, only to be left feeling like even more of a failure. A month later she had tried, and failed, again. Maybe the third time would be the charm.
Filled with renewed determination, she flipped open her address book to the listings for brokerage firms and began making calls to various friends she’d made in the business.
As it turned out, two more had been fired. One had taken a transfer to Cleveland. And the others were all too nervous about their own shaky futures to be of much help to anyone who might ultimately be competing with them for the last remaining broker’s job in the universe.
Callie finished the bag of candy, which did nothing for her mood and made her feel physically crummy to boot. At least her inability to find so much as a lead on a job took a backseat to her now-queasy stomach.
Then images of acre upon acre of corn flashed before her eyes as she envisioned the rest of her life. She really was a dismal failure, just as her parents had always predicted she would be. She had failed at marriage and failed at her career. Eunice had already seen it. Soon everyone in Iowa would know it, as well.
“Too many grandiose ideas,” her mother had said with her lips pursed tightly as Callie had waited at the train station nearly ten years earlier. “They’ll be your downfall, you mark my words.”
“You’ll be back with your tail tucked between your legs,” her father had added.
They’d been no more supportive of her marriage. Maybe they had seen what she hadn’t, that she could never fulfill the expectations of a man like Chad Smith, who’d grown up with wealth and power and class. Discovering that her replacement’s credentials had more to do with her swimsuit size and her pedigree than