Make Me Over_ Getting Real - Leslie Kelly [16]
“Tori Lyons…” Mueller said, his brow pulling down in concentration.
“The race-car driver,” someone murmured.
Drew glanced at the lead camera operator, who’d been introduced as Jacey Turner the evening before. A slim, pale-skinned brunette dressed all in black, the woman had huge brown eyes that dominated her face. And she always seemed aware of everything that was happening around her. A listener, that one. She’d be the one who’d expose any and all secrets taking place in this house over the next few weeks. No doubt about it.
Now she was standing on a chair, setting up a camera shot over the expansive dining room table, apparently listening to every word they said.
“Exactly. She has the potential to really make this work,” Drew explained, striving to remain detached and not let them see how much he, personally, wanted Tori to remain.
“You know this after a short glimpse of the women yesterday afternoon?” Mueller asked, his stare pointed.
Drew managed an even nod.
“Or because of your conversation in the library last night?” Jacey’s voice was deceptively light.
“Sonofabitch,” Drew muttered.
“Ahh, ahh,” Mueller said with an all-too-innocent smile. “You knew the house was wired.”
“You said the cameras were off until today.”
The man simply shrugged. His camera operator gave Drew a sympathetic look. “Everyone associated with the show signed a release stating they knew they might be filmed any time from the minute they arrived.” She paused. “Including you.”
“I see. So it was my error for actually believing what you said.” Drew gave a humorless laugh. “I forgot the type of people I was dealing with. A mistake I won’t make again.”
Jacey’s eyes widened. She and Burt exchanged a quick glance, a look Drew recognized. Same old story. People saw the credentials or his polite manner and assumed he was some kind of damn pushover.
They had a lot to learn. A whole lot.
“As I recall,” Drew added, remaining calm in spite of his inner fury, “I stipulated in the contract we both signed that I would be taped in any common areas of the house, but not in my private quarters.” He stared at Mueller, hard, until the man’s eyes shifted away and his face flushed. The pink color crept all the way up his forehead onto his bald pate.
“I’ll be returning to my room in one hour,” Drew bit out. “If there are any cameras in it, I will consider you in violation of our written contract. I will leave these premises immediately and will be calling my attorney.”
Then he looked at Jacey, who continued to watch, wide-eyed.
“I know what you’re thinking, Miss Turner. That you’re rather adept at hiding small electronic devices.” Her eyes flared a bit, but she kept still. She was better at this than her boss, he had to give her that much.
With a tight smile, he added, “But believe me, if I can find a shard of three-thousand-year-old pottery buried in the side of a South American mountain, I can surely find any type of camera or microphone you’ve planted in my room.”
Drew didn’t bother adding that when he was twelve, he, his mother and his sister had lived for weeks in a basement storage room of a shopping mall. He’d become quite familiar with electronic security equipment. How to spot it. How to avoid it. How to disable it.
He sensed they wouldn’t believe him, anyway.
He turned his attention back to Mueller. “I trust I’m making myself clear?”
The man nodded once, obviously not liking being bested.
Well, neither did Drew. Not in anything.
He turned to leave the dining room, but before exiting completely, he said over his shoulder, “And by the way, about Miss Lyons? I mean it. She’s the best shot you’ve got at making this thing work. You’d better hold on to her, no matter what it takes.”
He didn’t even turn around, or wait for a reaction. As he strode out of the room, he heard Jacey Turner mumble to her boss, “I think we might have underestimated him.”
Stalking down the hall toward the front door, where he planned to get in his car and drive off his rage for an hour while they