Page 13 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
“Did they seriouslylock us in?”
After they’d left the hotel, taken in separate SUVs by producer group to the first shooting location—an abandoned shopping center built in the nineteen-eighties, from all appearances—they’d been left hanging, cramped and uncomfortable, in the SUV itself. After telling them all to wait and locking the doors, Molly disappeared inside the building with all the other crew and producers. Their driver stood outside, leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette. The windows were blackened and made the world outside look gray and bleak.
“Yes, they seriously did,” Chad said quietly.
“Protocol, I guess,” Handsome Ben said from the very back of the SUV where he sat alone. His voice was a gruff rumble that made Roan want to squirm in a good way.
The men hadn’t had any time to talk in the car on the drive over, what with Molly producing information about their cowboy—one Walker Reed, who was, from the photo she passed around, pretty decent looking. If by “decent” Roan meant “holy hotness wow.” But now, after waiting for almost an hour, they were starting to get worried enough to talk.
“What if I have to take a leak?” the ridiculously buff one called Victor asked. His voice was deep and smooth, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bench seat ahead of Roan.
“Do you?” the mousy man next to him, Antoine, Roan thought his name was, asked quietly. He toyed with his skinny tie.
“Yeah, I kind of do.”
“I guess we could roll down the windows and call for the driver.”
It turned out the windows were locked too. “Fantastic,” Chad said, running a hand over his hair and frowning. “This is a crap plan. My suit’s going to look like shit before we even get started.”
“I hope it’s not indicative of how things are going to be run for the next six weeks,” Roan said softly.
“How much longer do you think we’ll have to wait?”
From what Roan could see out the window, they were taking guys one-by-one from the other SUVs in front of them, keeping them for a few minutes, and then sending them back. “Not long, I think? They’ve taken all four from the car in front of us. We should be next.”
As if summoned, a guy in shorts and a T-shirt with dark bags under his eyes strode toward their SUV with a clipboard, some bottles of water tucked under his arm, and the key fob to release them from captivity.
“Roan!” the guy called as he jerked open the door. “You’re up.”
“Good luck,” Chad said, patting his shoulder.
Roan had to practically climb over Chad to get out, but eventually he stepped into the fresh air and groaned at the heat.
“He has to pee,” Antoine said, motioning at his seatmate.
“Yeah? Can you hold it?”
Victor nodded, and the guy said, “I’ll get you next. Victor, right? Great. Don’t piss yourself. It’ll just be a few.” Then he slammed the door, used the key fob to lock it again, and escorted Roan toward the rundown-looking building.
“Hi, my name’s Dave, I’m taking you to your producer.” T-shirt guy smiled wryly as they crossed the parking lot and then entered the air-conditioned cool of the main corridor of the shopping center. “I’d introduce you to the camera and sound crews, too, but there’s no way you’ll learn all their names today. Better to let that come naturally.”
“Hi,” Roan said. “Will I be seeing a lot of you over the next few weeks?”
“Probably. You’ll get sick of all us soon enough. Through here.” He led Roan down a narrow hallway jotting off the main one and into a small conference room. The table had been pushed to the side, as had most of the chairs, and in the corner behind a heavy-looking camera stood a barstool. A white sheet draped to look like a curtain hung behind it, billowing gently in an air-conditioned breeze. Molly sat next to the cameraman, tapping a pen against a file impatiently.
“Hi,” Roan said, “I’m—”
“Yeah yeah, the kid with the sob story, I know. Sit down.”
Roan gaped at Dave, who winced and shrugged apologetically before taking his seat off to the side of the camera.
“Excuse me?” Roan asked, rubbing his elbows in confusion. What was her problem with him?
“Look? Is there an issue? We need to get a move on; we have more of these interviews to do, and you’re wasting time.”
“It’s just that—”
“No. Sit down. What did Andy say about following your producer’s instructions?”
