turned in a panic. “I will die of embarrassment. I so don’t want anyone to see that on TV. Uncle Clint?”
“I haven’t filmed anything yet,” Victoria replied in a calm voice. “I came out a few days ago, scouting, and took a few candid shots. But...Mr. Griffin was the only one here.”
He gave her a look that said, “Right,” but he didn’t call her out on getting the leggy blonde on tape because if he said anything he’d have to confess to having a leggy blonde here. “That’s true,” he said. “And if you’ll all come in the house, I’ll explain everything.”
Victoria took that as her invitation to go inside with them. Had he made a decision? Probably not, since he hadn’t bothered to tell his family...or her...about it.
The older-looking sister in the casual outfit gave Victoria a look that suggested she hated this idea and she wasn’t going to budge. “Somebody go and check on the steaks,” she said, waiting for Victoria to get ahead of her in the procession. “I think we need to set an extra plate for dinner.”
“No, I couldn’t—”
“I insist,” Clint’s mother said.
Victoria knew that motherly tone. No arguments.
“I’m Bitsy,” the silver-haired lady continued. She guided Victoria toward the back of the house. “We’re having supper out on the porch by the pool. Do you eat meat?”
Stunned, Victoria nodded. “This is Texas, right?”
Bitsy chuckled, gave her son a quick glance. “Last time I checked. But my granddaughter—the one we call Tater—has decided she’s a vegan. So I always ask.”
Polite and elegant. Manners. This woman was a true Texas lady. A society dame, Victoria thought. What a nice contrast to Clint and his bad-boy ways. But why were they both here together?
* * *
CLINT SAT AT the head of the long pine table and took in the women surrounding him. How did a man escape such a sweet trap? He turned to Victoria, conscious of her quiet reserve. She observed people and watched the exchange of comments, criticisms and contradictions that was dinner at the Sunset Star. What was she thinking? That she needed to run as fast as her legs would carry her? Or that this was certainly fodder for her show?
He decided to ask her. “So, you think we could entertain people with our little family dynamic?”
Her green eyes locked horns with him. “Oh, yes. You have an interesting family dynamic.”
He chuckled, drained his iced tea. “We ain’t the Kardashians, darlin’, but we love each other.”
He saw the hint of admiration in her eyes. “I can see that, I think. But all of this chaos makes for good television.”
“Uh-huh.” Chaos, hormones, mood swings and his man-view. Couple that with all the mistakes he’d made and how his family clung to those mistakes like a rodeo pro clinging to a bucking bronco and well, who wouldn’t want to see that on television? That would make for great entertainment. But did he really want to reduce his family to ridicule and embarrassment just to make a buck or two? Hey, that was what this popular show was all about and his family was kind of used to it anyway.
Victoria perked up. “Have you decided to accept our offer?”
“I’ve been waiting to hear back from you on that account.”
She gave him a surprised frown. “We were waiting to hear back from your lawyers—”
“Forget the lawyers. This is my decision.”
“Well, I’m here now and we can decide, once and for all.”
“Did you come all the way out here to pin me down?”
“Yes, I did. My boss wasn’t happy with me the other day.”
“He can’t blame you. We have a whole passel of lawyers and one greedy manager looking into the matter but I told them to hold off. So this is my decision and my fault if I decide not to participate. Which I haven’t decided. Yet.”
“So you are interested?”
“Maybe.” He nodded toward his mother at the other end of the table. “But ultimately it will be up to her and the rest of them.”
“And here I thought you were the master of your domain.”
“An illusion. I’m just the dog-and-pony show.”
“Having family here will add to the drama of the show.”
“Maybe. We do have lots of drama around here. But I’m not so sure I want to put my family through anything that will make them uncomfortable. Or rather, anything more.”
Her disappointed look didn’t surprise him. Maybe she was just like everyone else. Greedy and needy and clueless about leaving a trail of stepped-on people behind her. Maybe he was the same way himself.
She leaned forward. “When we first thought of you, we didn’t know you had family here. I was under the impression you lived alone in this big house.”
He fingered the condensation on his glass. “I did for a while. The old family home is on the other side of the property. My folks lived there for many years. Then my daddy passed and my sister got a divorce and my other sister lost her job and...”
“You took them all in?”
“They kinda came one at a time. Mama didn’t really want to move into this house, so she stays out in the old place by the pond, but we see her just about every day. Denise didn’t want to move in but after her divorce, well, she couldn’t afford her own overblown home. So I finally convinced her by asking her to help me out around here. She’s the ranch manager but she does her own thing on the side. She has an online business selling clothes. The latest is Susie. She lost her high-fashion job in California, even though she’d tell you she was a struggling actress, so she came home for a visit about a month ago and...she stayed.” He grinned and lowered his voice. “But, bless her heart, she still thinks like a Californian.”
Victoria’s smile indicated she enjoyed bantering with the best of them. “And dresses like one, too.”
“Yep. She wants to be a star but she was forced to find a real job between auditions and bit parts. Rodeo Drive—not quite my kind of rodeo, but it paid the bills until the owner up and shut everything down.”
From down the table, his mother tapped a spoon on her glass. “Clint, are you going to explain about this television show or do I have to read about it in the local paper?”
He let go of Victoria’s gaze and looked at his mother. Bitsy Griffin hated scandal of any kind. She valued her privacy so much, she’d rather stay in that old farmhouse than stay in the nice room he’d fixed up for her upstairs. So what made him think she’d ever agree to a television crew filming her every move? And his every scandal?
Denny glared at him, always in perpetual distrust of any man, especially her playboy brother, who’d introduced her to her playboy husband, who’d become her ex-husband but was still very much a playboy. Too many issues with that one.
“Let me lay it out on the table,” he said, holding his breath and bracing for a storm of catty protests. “Ms. Calhoun came out here the other day as a representative of the show and offered me a contract to appear in several episodes of the show. We talked about the offer and discussed the pay. I told her I’d have to think about it.”
“And it never occurred to you to tell us this?” Denny asked, fire burning through her eyes.
“I’m telling you now,” he replied, a heavy fatigue drawing him down. “I never agreed to have any of you on the show anyway. If I decide to do this that doesn’t mean any of you have to participate.”
“Did you invite her to come and explain to us?” Susie asked, her long nails tapping on the table, her