Page 80 of Just a Client

Cameron and I looked at each other. I repeated the eye-pointing gesture and we both cracked up. Kate’s intimidation factor decreased in direct relation to how close we got to the end of our contractual obligation.

“This is great. Like something from a Hallmark movie.” I put an arm around Cameron’s waist and pinched her ass. So sue me, she looked spectacular in the jeans that Stephen dressed her in.

“Hey, we’re in public,” she complained, but she didn’t move out of reach.

“We’re backstage. No one can see.” I kissed her neck.

It looked like the whole town had turned out for the spring festival on Elmer’s courthouse square. Cameron got Vacation Dream Homes time on the main stage by offering Tracie as the MC for today’s festivities. The pretty blonde actress seemed to love the job. She’d helped judge the peach pie, cutest baby, and best beard contests with authentic excitement. The mayor said she was thrilled to take a year off from hosting the show and spectate.

“Let’s welcome your Elmer Spring Festival royal court!” Tracie’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers.

From center stage, a country western band struck up their version of “There She Is, Miss America.” Five girls in pastel evening gowns and a boy in a pale blue tux glided elegantly past Cameron and me, their heads high, backs straight, hands raised to execute flawless royal waves to their town.

“Great group this year.” Cameron inspected the small-town royalty as they strolled around the stage, crowns glinting in the morning sun. “I’ve gone to the pageant every year but this one.”

“Sorry, we could have—”

“Nope. No contest; you naked is always the better choice.” She didn’t look like she regretted any of the orgasms I gave her last evening.

Me either.

“Before we officially open the festival midway and carnival, we have one more set of special guests to introduce. Please welcome Cameron Morgan of Beautiful Hills Real Estate and the newest resident of Elmer, Wilson Phillips.”

On cue, the high school cheerleaders rushed the stage from both sides, popping cartwheels and unfurling a banner with the Vacation Dream Homes logo across it. The band transitioned to a rollicking version of Deep in the Heart of Texas. I let go of Cameron and bravely strode on stage. I raised both hands and waved to the crowd. Cameron did the same.

The crowd’s reception was lackluster. The lumberjack-looking dude with the two-and-a-half-foot-long beard and visible butt crack got a solid one-hundred-decibel ovation when he joined the best beard contest ten minutes ago. We garnered far less audible enthusiasm.

It was humiliating.

After giving a very short synopsis and promo for the show, Tracie passed Cameron the mic.

“I know most of you out there have already heard the gossip around town, but today I will officially ask Wilson Phillips the big question.” Cameron waited for a smattering of tepid applause to die down and the drumroll to start. “Wilson Phillips, which house is going to be your Vacation Dream Home?”

A fizz of excitement exploded in my stomach. I’d already signed papers, but this made it real. “I choose Blue Star Ranch!”

And the crowd went wild—not really; it was mostly the cheerleaders and a cymbal crash. These people really hated me.

Tracie held out her hand for the mic, but I snatched it from Cameron, interrupting the hand off. Time to go rogue.

“I have something to say before the festival gets started today.” I coughed, nerves getting the better of me after my impulsive mic grab. “First off, I’m going to apologize to everyone who heard the things I said about this town underutilizing its assets. I’m sorry. That was bull. Elmer is thriving when many small towns across America aren’t. So, congratulations. My stupid comments were fueled by...”

I paused and looked from Cameron to Tracie, hoping for moral support. Both wore the identical strained smiles as the Spring Festival Court. Kate, in comparison, looked thrilled. She stood on the raised platform with the camera crew, practically jumping up and down. Her crew got to film a billionaire eating humble pie.

“Fueled by anxiety and stress over not only the decision to buy Blue Star but also my choice to move here permanently. I hate that I voiced my doubts out loud for all the world and all of Elmer to hear.” A slightly sympathetic murmur came from the crowd. “The editors of the TV show have promised to cut all that from the show. So, let’s keep my meltdown a town secret.”

A few titters of laughter reached my ears, and the knot in my stomach eased slightly. They accepted my apology. Cameron had been right; taking part in the spring festival was the best idea ever.

“I am sorry that I gave anyone in Elmer a reason to doubt how much I like this town. It’s the only place I can see myself living, and Blue Star is the only place I can imagine pouring my heart, soul, and hard work into for the rest of my life.” I didn’t add that my real estate agent was why I wanted that future, but I knew the truth.

Cameron whooped. The cheerleaders whooped. The crowd clapped. Awesome, it was working.

“Last, I want to invite all of you to a Fourth of July BBQ at Blue Star Ranch. My treat!” I had to shout over the growing roar of the crowd. Unfortunately, their excitement wasn’t over my invitation.

The tap on my shoulder almost caused me to drop the mic. I turned and came face-to-face with the sheriff and the mayor.

Oh shit.

Colton dangled a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs with daisies hot-glued to each bracelet from his index finger.

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