Sweet Promise (The Grahams Book 1) Read online

  “Oh, sorry, distracted.” I tossed the phone onto the counter and grabbed a couple of apples from a basket nearby, handing him one. “So, I was gonna wait for Daddy to tell both of ya’ll at once, but, anyway, Tasha is sending me to audition for a new show. In LA. How ya like that?” I took a bite from the bright green orb and caught the tart juice with the back of my hand before it had the chance to drip to the bottom of my chin.

  “Really? That’s great! What kinda show?” Rome asked.

  “A travel show. Can you believe that shit? Sending a girl who’s never been anywhere to show people where they should go on vacation? Anyway, it’s part travel, part cooking, and I’ll have a co-host – if I get it, I mean.”

  “That sounds pretty cool,” Rome replied.

  “What sounds cool?” Daddy asked as he walked into the kitchen, the screen door clanging behind him.

  “Daddy, you’ll never believe it!” I threw my arms around my father’s neck. Heat rose off his clothes and skin from having spent the afternoon in the sun, working in the field. “I have an audition for a new show, and it’s a really, really good gig! I’d be traveling with a co-host, going to different places, showing people where to eat and what to see.”

  “You mean like New Orleans and Chicago and places like that?” He deposited a kiss on top of my head and broke the embrace to get a glass of water from the tap.

  “Uh, well, a little further than that, actually,” I said tentatively. “Our first season would include London, Paris, Rome, and a few other cities in Europe.”

  Daddy rubbed the stubble of his chin with a calloused finger and thumb. “I don’t know, baby girl – that seems awfully far. You’d be gone for how long, ‘xactly?”

  “About 3 or 4 months. But Daddy, the co-host will be Lucas Nash. Lucas Nash!”

  “You’re sayin’ that like it’s supposed to mean something, Georgia.” He turned to refill his glass at the sink.

  “He’s the TV chef – the British one. I’ve watched him since I was a kid.” I looked at my father, but it was clear that what I said wasn’t registering with him at all. “Hold on,” I went to the pantry and pulled a stack of books from the shelf, bringing them back to the kitchen and depositing them on the counter. I held up one with Lucas’ picture on the cover. He was posing behind a farmhouse table full of vegetables. “This guy,” I said, pointing to the cover.

  “Oh, right, I think I have seen him on the TV. I dunno though, Georgia. I don’t like the idea of you being halfway across the world on your own like that for so long. What if somethin’ happened to ya?” He still wasn’t convinced.

  “Dad,” Rome said, “Geo is smart – smarter than any of the rest of us! She’ll be careful and do everything she can to stay safe.”

  I tapped my brother’s arm affectionately with my fingertips. “Ro’s right, Dad, I’ll be careful. Besides, there will be a whole film crew with us the whole time. I go to LA on Monday for a screen test. If I get the job, I’m takin’ it!” Daddy crossed his arms and looked at me. “Daddy,” I stepped forward, lightly gripping his still-crossed forearm with my fingertips. “It’s a lot of money. Enough to pay off the tax lien.”

  “For the whole year?” He asked.

  “No, Daddy, the whole thing. All of it. It’ll be ours free and clear again.” I tried to fight the emotions stirring in me as my lip began to quiver. If I could pull this off – if I could pay off the liens on the farm, Daddy could quit working so hard for so little. He was getting older, and I worried about him, especially with Mama gone.

  He rubbed his chin again. “Well, money ain’t much of a reason to do somethin’ as far as I’m concerned. I can take care of the taxes myself. I’ll figure something out.” He looked at me again, but my eyes were pleading. I needed this – I need to feel like I was doing something useful, and I might never get another chance to see the world. He saw the look in my eyes, and grumbled to himself, then continued, “But if this is what you want to do, baby girl, I won’t try to stop ya. Just promise you’ll check in and be careful.”

  “Thanks, Daddy! I promise I will!” I squealed and jumped up, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  I can do this, I thought, as I went through my closet, trying to decide what I had that was decent enough to wear to LA. In between, I couldn’t resist looking up some of the gossip papers online on my phone. I’d read that Lucas Nash had an ego, but I thought it would be worth putting up with a little chest thumping from an egomaniac if it meant getting our family out of the massive financial hole that threatened our home. I thought about all the stories I had read about him. The bad boy. The rogue. The perfectionist. Still, every time I thought of him, I saw, in my mind, that picture of him that Tasha had shown me – the one of him looking directly into the camera. I was about to come face-to-face with Lucas Nash, and I had to prove to the network we had chemistry if I was going to make it work. I can learn to flirt on camera - actors do it every day, I thought. Besides, he truly is gorgeous. How hard can it be?

  CHAPTER 2

  Lucas Nash

  I was nursing a serious hangover as the flight neared LAX. "Could you get us another Bloody Mary then, darling? My mates gave me a proper send-off last night, and my head’s done in. If you've got any cream crackers left too, yeah? Cheers!"

  The flight attendant went to fulfill my request. I enjoyed the view of her walking away, her navy British Airlines skirt swaying back and forth down the aisle, before replacing the eye mask and laying back in the business class seat. "Nash, you should at least look over the project - get some idea what you're supposed to be doing when we land." John looked back to his phone, at the text message from Tasha confirming that Georgia Graham was indeed up for the screen test and would be meeting us in LA.

  "You're a complete wanker, you know that, John? Could you just shut it and let me get some sleep? I'm knackered! Is that too much to ask? Seriously!" Just because he was my best friend didn’t mean he wasn’t a royal pain in my ass half the time.

  John Abel had known me since we were in primary school together as boys in a small village in Kent in the beautiful countryside of the southeast of England. When I had started cooking, much to my father’s chagrin, John had been in my corner, so I hired him as a sous chef. When BITE Television came along with a TV deal, I wrangled him a spot as my personal assistant. Most of the time, it was a good thing. John was organized and sensible – a stark contrast to my own style, which had often been called impulsive, and rightly so. He usually kept me grounded, but when I was nursing a headache like I was that morning, it was annoying as far as I was concerned.

  After the second Bloody Mary and crackers arrived, I began to perk up a bit. "Alright, mate, what is it you want me to see again?" I sighed heavily, rubbing my eyes.

  "Here you are, this is the gig. It's a travel show with a cooking element. It's called We’ll Bite!"

  “Travel show? What’s the concept - the hook?” I asked, choking down a cracker to settle my stomach.

  "It’s about contrasts. Spicy dishes, and sweet desserts. Exotic nightlife, beautiful countryside, that sort of thing.” John said.

  “I don’t do desserts – I’m not a fucking Frenchman.” I rolled my eyes angrily.

  “Well, that's the interesting bit. You'd be doing it with a co-host." I could see John was cautious in dropping this bit of news.

  "A bloody co-host? What the actual fuck? I'm top bill! They want me to go touring around the world with some sad old mum who bakes or something?" I was incensed at the idea they thought I didn't warrant a solo gig. “No thanks, mate. Turn this bird around and take me back to London.”

  "Not exactly,” John smirked, “This is the co-host you'll be screen-testing with." John held up his iPad which showed a press photo of Georgia Graham. “Isn’t she gorgeous? She’s really something!” I could hear the warmth and enthusiasm in his voice.

  "Fuck me! That's my co-host? This might be alright then! What's her name? Where did she come from?" I was looking at a photo of one of the mos
t attractive women I’d seen in a while. She had that rare combination of cute and sexy that drove me absolutely mad.

  "Georgia Graham. Her show only just finished its first season at BITE. Her show is called Sweet, Georgia! She's a baker, and a rising star at the network," John said. “Tasha represents her too, and thinks you too will be a good fit,” he said, smiling almost wistfully. “Her show’s great – I watch it! We met briefly last year. She won’t remember, I’m sure. I can’t wait to see her, really.” He was gushing like a schoolboy.

  I took the iPad from my friend's hands. I looked over the photo of Georgia, pinching and scrolling to examine every part of it for signs of Photoshop. Holy fuck, she’s hot! She had long, pale blonde hair with loose curls that fell to her elbows, and big blue eyes. She may have looked young, but her curves were definitely all grown up. "She's fit!” I exclaimed. Very fit, I thought. She could provide a serious cure for this whole, unfortunate business with Simone.

  "Well, I'm not sure that what you might be thinking is the best plan if you want to keep the show going for more than a series,” John said as if reading my thoughts. “Tasha did say they were looking for some good chemistry between you. This could be the gig that puts you back on top if you don't make a cock-up of it."

  "Cock up in it, more like," I chuckled and raised an eyebrow at my friend.

  "Could you just take this seriously? Sales for the last two books were sub-par at best, and the last series had the lowest viewer ratings of anything you've ever done. This is serious, Nash, if you don't pull this off your career could be over like...," I cut him off.

  "Over like my marriage? Is that what you were going to say, you sorry piece of shit? I know you never liked Simone, but Christ, man! That’s low!" I was still touchy on the subject, and the continuing barrage of media coverage over my recent ex-wife's new love interest – the one she had cheated on me with – wasn't helping.

  "I was going to say over like that," John snapped his fingers, "Bloody hell you're a sensitive little bugger these days!"

  I put my headphones on and pulled the eye mask down again. I knew how bad things were, and I didn't need John reminding me. The last six months had been some of the worst in my life. I did love Simone once, in a way. We’d had great physical chemistry, and I had cared about her. On paper, the exotic, French beauty was perfect for me. By the end, though, I saw her for what she really was, but that didn't make her cheating, very publicly for that matter, with a French business tycoon any easier to swallow. I’d been humiliated. Her comments about marrying an Englishmen had been fodder for the tabloids who speculated on everything from my sexual orientation to the need for little blue pills. Little blue pills, my ass! I’ve always left the ladies begging for more, I reminded myself. The tabloids were what had precipitated the binge drinking, and late-night whoring around London to soothe my pride. Even some of my chef buddies had asked me not to come back to their establishments until I’d straightened myself out, and coming from that crowd, that was really saying something. John had been right there with me through it all, but I knew he hated Simone, and felt like an, “I told you so,” was always on the tip of his tongue.

  Okay, lad, I thought, here's your chance. Do try not to fuck it up too badly, would you? Don't turn yourself into the loser they all want you to be. Turn up the charm and keep yourself sorted for a few months. Flirt on camera with a gorgeous blonde, and with any luck, who knows what off-camera as a bonus. How hard can it be?

  CHAPTER 3

  Georgia

  The LA studio of BITE TV was not at all what I expected. I filmed most of my segments on a tiny soundstage in Nashville that was home to Heartland TV, one of the other channels owned by American Media, the parent company of BITE Entertainment. I’d traveled to Atlanta once, to the BITE TV studio that was housed there in the same building as the American News Network, but even that was a small fraction of the size of the location where I was sent for the screen test with Lucas Nash. The taxi dropped me off at the front gate, and a very friendly security guard had called a golf cart to take me back to building E, where I was supposed to meet the producer.

  I was wearing an outfit that Tasha had sent for me. It was a cream-colored dress with a full skirt and a sweetheart neckline. The fabric had a small cherry print all over it, and the skirt came to just below my knees. I think this is meant to be a mini-skirt, I thought, pulling it on at the hotel. On a taller woman, it would have been. On my tiny frame, though, it was far more conservative. The waist had been a little loose on me too, so I pinned it up from the inside. Overall, I was pretty happy with the way it turned out.

  When I arrived on set, a tall, tan beauty with dark blonde hair greeted me. “You have got to be Georgia!” She thrust her hand out, “I’m Claudia Dandridge! I’m the Executive Producer of the new show. Come on, let me show you around!”

  The makeover, courtesy of Tasha, had made me feel a little more confident. Especially with the help of good hair and makeup, I cleaned up pretty well. The hairdresser Tasha had set me up with had added deep blonde lowlights and bright highlights to my blonde hair, giving it dimension and shine. He had cut a little length off, creating a bob that fell below my shoulders with my curls. Straightened, it was a little longer. The look was far more polished than the long, girlish curls I had always worn. I had also been treated to a luxury facial, and a body wrap. The entire treatment left me feeling more glamorous than I ever had before. Still, walking around the studio, I couldn’t help but be a little intimidated.

  This was my first trip to LA after all, and everyone seemed so polished and perfect when I compared myself to them. I had made a lot of progress in my first year on camera, though. Like everything I wanted to do well, I worked hard, studied, practiced, and always tried to improve upon my last performance. The network had been pleased as well, which is why they invited me to Atlanta to shoot the holiday promos in which I was featured with other network personalities.

  Still, in none of the events I’d attended since signing with the network more than a year before had I ever met Lucas Nash. He always shot his promos in London, and they spliced him in with everyone else in editing. I was excited to meet one of the people who inspired me to start cooking seriously, but at the same time, I was nervous, too. Lucas had a reputation both in the industry and in the press. He was a relentless perfectionist, requiring everyone around him to bring their best. That, I could appreciate. The other part of the story, though, was more troubling. I’d heard the rumors about wild partying after wrapping, and all the women he had slept with. If even half of it were true, I wasn’t sure how I would handle a tough situation, should it arise while we were working together.

  Claudia ended the set tour in the green room. “Sorry, we have a lot of filming underway this week, and this was the only studio we had available, so there are no dressing rooms. There is a table over there, though, and your makeup artist will be in shortly. There’s a rack behind the door where you’ll find your costumes, and there’s a screen you can use for changing over there. Lucas should be rolling in any time – right on time, no doubt!” She winked at me, which made me think she knew him well.

  “Okay, so is what I have on okay for now?” I asked sheepishly.

  “Oh, it’s great! We’ll have you both in several costume changes throughout the shoot. There will be a still photog on set too so we can capture some stills for advertising, assuming everything works out.” She stopped and turned to me, the most still the woman had been since I’d first shaken her hand. “Listen, this thing is practically in the bag, okay, so don’t be nervous. All this is just a formality for the suits, alright?” She patted me reassuringly on the shoulder, which calmed my nerves just a bit.

  “Thanks, that does make me feel better,” I replied.

  “Paul Giordani will be on-set, he’s the producer, and Cate Mangham, the network executive. If all goes well, we’ll get filming underway in a couple of weeks! What other questions can I answer right now?” Claudia was kind and reassuring
, which I appreciated.

  “Well, there is something…,” I hesitated.

  “What’s that?” Claudia asked.

  “Well, I hear that Lucas can be…well, that he has a big personality. You’ve worked with him before. Do you think we’ll work well together?” I was trying to be careful with my choice of words while getting to the point of the question I was really asking.

  Claudia rolled her eyes. “Look, Lucas is great. He really is. He’s a big personality alright, but he’s a good guy deep down. Don’t let that rock star façade fool you.” She laughed, “Just one thing about him, though. He does love the ladies, and they love him. He can be…let’s say his charm can be overwhelming. He definitely likes to push the envelope – go for the shock factor on camera, that sort of thing. Just…,” Claudia paused, then stood close to me, putting a hand on my arm, “Just keep it light, and have fun. I’m sure you two will make for some great on-screen chemistry.” She smiled. “So, Iliana should be here to do your makeup in just a sec. I’ll let you relax. There are food and snacks over there – don’t overeat, though, and nothing carbonated or salty – we don’t want you looking puffy on camera, okay? Just call if you need me!” Claudia disappeared through the doorway.