Barbara Dunlop - Too Close To Call

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Too Close To Call: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Jordan Adamson is in a jam. His idyllic life in Alaska has never been the same since a chance encounter with a twin brother he hadn't known he had. Jordan has to impersonate Jeffrey in front of his closest colleagues, and in L.A., no less! Good thing Jordan met Ashley Baines–she's offered to steer him clear…right to bed!Ashley's got the biggest promotion of her life standing right in front of her, yet all she can see is tall, hunky, laid-back Jeffrey? He's saying all the right things and making all the right moves, but she's never had the urge to touch him before. Can this be the same uptight guy she once knew, who's now back in town after the same hotshot job she's up for?With the lies closing in on Jordan, can Ashley get past the truth once she knows it? Only one thing's for sure, it's gonna be too close to call!

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It was distracting. She didn’t want to be thinking about his broad shoulders and bulging biceps while she was plotting ways to undermine his bid for the vice presidency. She wanted to focus on his weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

She sat up straight, shaking the mental image, forcing herself to catalogue everything she knew that might be valuable. The series was set in Arctic Luck. It might be a drama, but was probably a comedy, or a combination of both. He hadn’t given her the title. But, she’d given him hers.

Damn.

There was nothing in Arctic Luck except wilderness, fish and moose. How was that interesting? How was that funny? He’d hidden his proposal from her, which meant there was something on the front page.

The page.

His proposal was on pages, not on a computer, not in sound bites, not in video clips. He was giving a paper presentation.

There it was. His weakness and her opportunity. If she went flat out—a bells and whistles, high-tech, multimedia extravaganza—she’d win.

Ashley picked up the phone and punched in Rachel’s number.

Rachel picked it up on the second ring.

“Did you get Sean Connery?” asked Ashley without preamble.

“No, but I got Greg Duncan for the clips. He’s almost as good. Did you pump Jeffrey?”

“I tried.” With very limited success. The main thing she’d found out was that there was suddenly something weird about Jeffrey—in an intriguing sexy way. But she wasn’t about to share that with Rachel.

“What did he tell you?”

“The location. It’s Arctic Luck, Alaska.”

“Never heard of it.”

“That’s ’cause you’re not a bull moose.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Little backwater, hole-in-the-wall, near as I can tell. I don’t know what Jeffrey’s thinking. But, get this, it looks like his presentation is on paper.”

“Completely?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe they’re not as progressive in New York.”

“Suits me just fine. Can we film tonight?”

“Got a skeleton crew meeting us at the beach at seven.”

ASHLEY AND RACHEL had spent the entire evening filming the first of the new clips. And now Ashley had to stay late that night to layer them into the proposal. That left them with three days before the meeting.

She glanced at her watch. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning. If she worked really fast, she might have time to catch a couple of hours sleep before starting work. She’d let some other things slip yesterday in order to get the filming done, and she’d have to take care of them tomorrow, or rather, later this morning.

She double-clicked the button on the computer in the Argonaut Studios audiovisual computer lab. She was linking still photos, sound bites, video clips and text files into a smooth presentation.

The room held high-end computers with top of the line monitors, specifically designed for video and animation. Argonaut provided them in a central facility for the use of all employees, though the film and photography staff had dibs on them during the day.

The door opened and Ashley turned to see who had joined her. Though official office hours were eight to five, the television industry was a hotbed of last-minute deadlines and emerging crises. No matter what time it was, day or night, there were always a few people working in the main office building.

Her eyes focused on Jeffrey, as he let the door close behind him.

“How’s it going?” he asked, in a gravelly voice.

“Fine.” She quickly minimized the screen before he could get close enough to see the details.

“A few last-minute adjustments?” he asked, strolling across the dimly lit room.

“A few,” she admitted, although it was far more than a few, and she wouldn’t consider it last-minute until Thursday night.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Just keeping up with the Joneses.” He took the computer directly across from her, swiveling the chair to face her. He could have picked any of the other four workstations in the room. The ones farther away from her—out of spying and distracting distance.

“I hear you’re setting a high standard.” He slid a disk into the drive and began punching keys. “Thanks to you, I’m not getting any sleep tonight.”

“Where did you hear that?”

Had he been spying on her? Asking around? Bribing employees? She wouldn’t put it past him.

“A gentleman never tells.” Jeffrey turned his attention to the computer screen, and she thought she caught a hint of a smile. “We happened to be having dinner on the deck at the Breakwater.”

“You just happened to be overlooking my shoot?” Ashley didn’t believe it for a second. They must have followed her there. The Breakwater deck would have given them a perfect view of last night’s filming.

“You were spying on me,” she accused.

Jeffrey glanced up. “What do I look like? James Bond?”

No. Actually, he looked more like Daniel Day-Lewis in The Last of the Mohicans. With shorter hair and darker eyes. And maybe his chin was stronger, too. Funny, she didn’t remember Jeffrey ever looking so rawly sensual.

Wait a minute. Her mind was wandering. What were they talking about?

Spying. Right. She’d lost it there for a moment. Must be sleep deprivation.

She realized his gaze was gaining intensity, and she shifted in her chair. “If you weren’t spying on me, what were you doing at the Breakwater?”

“Rob said they had good steaks.”

“Since when did you start eating steaks?”

“My third birthday.”

“Cute.” Maybe that’s what bulked up his muscles. Jeffrey had taken to eating red meat over the past year.

He hit a couple of keys on his computer, and a series of colors reflected off the planes and angles of his face.

“You have video clips?” So much for scooping the competition.

“These are stock tourist clips of Alaska. Rob’s working with the actors.”

Her surprise must have shown on her face.

“You thought I’d just throw in the towel?” he asked softly with a slight shake of his head. “I’ve got a lot at stake here.”

So did she. In fact, so much was at risk here, that even having this conversation was a mistake. She couldn’t afford to inadvertently give him any more ammunition against her. She turned her attention to the big monitor in front of her, and enlarged her presentation.

She opened up one of the text files which contained a synopsis on the series idea and started proofreading.

She could hear the clicking of the computer keys as Jeffrey began working.

The overall storyline synopsis looked good, so she moved on to the episode specific stories.

They’d only come up with two episodes so far. They needed at least six.

While she proofread the text in front of her, she let her mind wander to other story ideas.

Before she realized it, she’d stopped reading. As the story ideas rambled through her brain, her action hero sprinted down the beach and suddenly turned into Jeffrey. That made no sense, since Jeffrey was neither old and jaded nor was he gay.

Still, her mind insisted on picturing him tanned and toned against the white sand…with her…in her smallest bikini. She felt the waves tickle her feet and imagined his warm hands on her skin, pausing on the curve of her hip, toying with the ties on her bathing suit.

A shiver of arousal ran through her.

Then the daydream changed. They were in a big bed. White, gauzy curtains billowed in the ocean breeze through an open window.

She could hear the gulls calling, and the waves crashing. She was in his arms, and it was morning, so they must have made love.

But, darn it, she couldn’t remember making love. She stared down at his dark head against the crisp, white pillowcase. She wanted him to wake up so they could make love again.

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