That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 1

Destiny

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“They want to send mewhere?” I don’t want to believe what my agent just told me. The chance to co-host a multi-part series on the home renovation channel is a dream opportunity and a huge boost to my career. Custom pool design has been male dominated for long enough. I am ready to make my mark.

But in a rural part of north central Nebraska? Shaking my head, I ask my agent. “Why does a ranch in the middle of nowhere need a fancy pool? Pampering the cows?”

Sheila laughs. “First, hon, it’s a horse ranch. There may be cattle around but they’re not a priority. Second, this ranch is expanding to include a winery as well as public celebration spaces and vacation rentals. From what I hear, there’s a boom in vacation and tourist related construction in the Sandhills.”

“Sandhills? Like hills made out of sand? Dunes? I’m from Rhode Island. Help me out here.”

“No clue either. Production has compiled details about the ranch and its owners, the land itself, zoning, suitable construction companies. It’s a thick binder and will be delivered to you after you sign the contract. You and your co-host will be responsible for completing the project to the owners’, and the network’s satisfaction. All phases of the project will be filmed. Network surprised me by giving the hosts more say over the final cuts of the shows than often happens.”

“How’s the pay?”

Instead of just rattling off a number, Sheila writes the amount with a thick Sharpie and turns it toward me.

“Wow.”

“Makes up for the inconvenience of spending a few months in Nebraska.”

We chat about the project a bit longer and she explains the non-boilerplate sections of the contract. This feels like a strange concept with an odd location, but that unique combination should appeal to viewers. I need to be a part of this. “I’m ready to sign.”

She slides the contracts across the desk and I sign the first copy. Pausing before touching pen to the second I glance at her. “All this talk and you haven’t told me who I’ll be working with on this project.”

Her eyes dart to one side, then focus on the stack of papers on her desk. Uh oh. A knot forms in my belly. I should have asked sooner. The job is an important step for my career, both as a television host and as a custom pool designer. I can’t afford to pass up the opportunity. I sign the final contract and lay the pen across the page. “Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

As she gathers the signed contracts, she finally meets my gaze. “Jorge Chavez.”

The knot tightens and sinks like a lead weight. He’s been an on-air designer for years. My design school classmates and I watched his show religiously because he’s that good.

Then suddenly his show was off the air and he disappeared. Eventually, the show returned with no explanation about the hiatus. But the man now had a major resting bitch face and even when clients were happy with their pools, his reactions were contained and serious. We used to call him cranky pants Chavez. “He’s got to be at least fifty or something.”

Nearing retirement herself, Sheila gives me an arched eyebrow. Shit, that came out sounding agist or something. I hurry to backtrack. “I mean...he’s been on air for a good number of years.”

“He’s fifty-two according to his bio. Been on—and off the air since he was your advanced age of twenty-six.”

“That’s a longevity to aspire to.” It also means he’s twice my age. That doesn’t sound too odd until I realize I was a baby when he first hit the air waves. He’s the same age as my dad would be. If I look at it that way, it’ll all be good. It’ll be like I’m working with my father. I can do that.

“Setting the non-issue of ages aside, Destiny, the network needs this show to work. Both you and Chavez are hard-headed and you’ll need to find a way to get things done without blowing up the production. Got it?”

“I’ll be sweet as pie with the old man. How’s that?” The saccharine dripping from my words makes me wince.

She lifts her gaze to the ceiling. “You’re going to have to watch how you say things, Destiny. Words, tones, actions all need to match.”

“Yes, Mom.” I hold up my hands. “Sorry. My mouth has always been a problem.”

“Your snarking and sarcasm got you your first network job. That lasted one season. The viewers of the network have limited tolerance for those who come off as know-it-alls or those who sound like they’re putting their clients down. Except for a small demographic, viewers are done with your...” She makes finger quotes in the air. “Style. This show is your opportunity to embrace a different side, make the viewers love you again.”

“I know, I know. I’ll work on it.” At her dubious expression, I release a long breath. “You’ve known me a long time. You know the queen of snark Destiny Dawn isn’t really me. I worked hard to develop that persona because that’s what the network wanted at the time. Now it’s a habit.”

“You’d best be working on breaking that habit before shooting starts.”

After agreeing and discussing a long list of details, I escape Sheila’s office. I’ve got a shit-load of things to accomplish before shooting starts in a month. Ignoring her advice to contact my cohost so we have some familiarity with each other before the show starts, I focus on other, more important tasks.

Like what does one wear on a horse ranch?