The Fortunes of Texas: All Fortune's Children

“I think so. I’ve been going over all the things I need to say about My Perfect Match. I just hope the interviewer asks the right questions. Do you know what anchorperson will be doing our segment?”

“Ted Reynolds. I rarely watch television, so I’m not that familiar with the guy. Are you?”

Vivian rubbed her sweaty palms down the sides of her hips. “Yes. He’s the darling of the network morning shows and the reason Hey, USA is such a hit.”

“Great. The more star power, the better for us,” Wes remarked, then suddenly wrapped his hand over her shoulder. “Are you okay, Vivian? You’re looking very pale.”

If she resembled a ghost, then the shock of his touch was taking care of the problem. Hot blood was shooting straight from his hand on her shoulder all the way to her face. He’d never touched her before. Not like this. Maybe their fingers had inadvertently brushed from time to time, but he’d never deliberately put his hand on her. Why had he suddenly decided to touch her today of all days?

Don’t be stupid, Vivian. The man is simply steadying you because you look like a wilted noodle ready to fall at his feet. That’s all it means. Nothing more.

“I’m fine,” she muttered. “I just want this to be over with so I can get back to work.”

She was trying to decide how to disengage her shoulder from his hand without appearing too obvious, when a member of the production crew spoke up.

“Mr. Robinson, it’s nearly time to go on the air. We need you and Ms. Blair to take your seats and let us wire you with earpieces.”

The thin young man with a shaved head, red goatee and skintight black jeans motioned to the two of them, prompting Vivian to ask, “Who is he?”

“A guy who wishes he was in Hollywood instead of Austin,” Wes said drily, then added in a more serious tone, “actually, his name is Antonio. He’s the manager of this affiliate crew.”

With his hand moving to the small of her back, Wes ushered her forward. “Come on. Let’s go put on our act.”

Act? Wes might be planning to put on an act for the camera. But Vivian was going to speak straight from the heart. Whether he liked it or not.

Chapter Three

Five minutes later, Wes and Vivian sat side by side in a pair of dark blue wingback chairs and stared at a monitor positioned in front of them, yet out of view of the camera lens.

A few steps to their left, Antonio stood at the ready, his finger pointed at the monitor. “Get ready,” he instructed. “As soon as this commercial ends, Ted will greet you and introduce you to the viewing audience.”

Vivian’s heart was suddenly pounding so hard she could hardly hear herself think. As much as she wanted to duck behind the chair and hide from the camera, she had to remain at Wes’s side and face the viewing audience.

Her hands laced tightly together upon her lap while her mouth felt as if she’d just eaten a handful of chalk. Just as she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t going to panic, she felt a hand at the side of her face.

Turning slightly, she realized with a sense of shock that the hand belonged to Wes and his fingers were gently tucking her hair behind her ear.

“So everyone can see your face better,” he explained under his breath.

As if Vivian wasn’t already shaken enough, the man had to start touching her like a familiar lover! The idea of being on television must be doing something to him, she thought.

Sucking in a deep breath, she resisted the urge to shake her hair loose so that it would drape against her cheek. “I think—”

Antonio suddenly interrupted her retort. “Here we go,” he warned. “Three, two, one—you’re on!”

Vivian straightened stiffly in her seat and stared dazedly at the television monitor, while inches away, Wes leaned comfortably back and, with an easy smile, gazed at the camera.

What a ham! During the years she’d been at Robinson Tech, she’d not heard of anyone in the company’s developmental team or its vice president being on television. Yet he was behaving as though he did this sort of thing every day.

Just as she was thinking Wes ought to go into the acting profession, Ted Reynolds’s image popped onto the screen. Dressed in a flamboyant, brick-red jacket and a blue patterned tie, he had subtly highlighted hair slicked back from his broad face. Through the earpiece she could hear his voice giving the two of them a routine greeting and introduction.

Once they’d responded to his welcoming words, Ted quickly slipped into the role of interviewer. When he asked Wes to give the audience an overview of the company, her boss smoothly went into a brief summary of what Robinson Tech was all about, and the huge strides it had made in recent years at providing the consumer with affordable, up-to-date technology for use in homes and offices.

While Wes was doing a flawless job at praising the company’s capabilities and progress, Vivian was trying her hardest to remain focused on the words being exchanged between the two men. But she was rapidly losing the battle. Instead of following their conversation, her mind began drifting to the ridiculous. Like the tangy scent of expensive cologne wafting from Wes’s white dress shirt. The way his dark hair lay in mussed waves and the shape of his long fingers resting against his thigh. On his right hand he wore a heavy ring set with onyx, but the left hand was bare. No, she thought wryly. Wes wouldn’t be wearing a ring on his left. Not unless a perfect princess came along and swept him up in a cloud of bliss.

Stop it, Vivian! Get your mind back on track! Otherwise, you’re going to be lost.

The words of warning going off in her head prompted her to give herself a hard mental shake and stare intensely at the monitor. Maybe if she kept her eyes on Ted Reynolds, she’d forget all about Wes’s nearness.

The popular host continued, “In the past few years, Robinson Tech has given us some great products. The tablet for kids—when it first came on the market, my daughter was jumping up and down for it. And by the way, she loves it. Do you believe this new app will be as successful as some of the more popular items your company has produced in the past?”

Vivian looked over at Wes and wondered just how much acting this was going to require from her boss. Successful? She clamped her lips shut to prevent a nervous laugh from bursting out of her. Why didn’t he be honest and tell Ted he thought it was a crock of crap? Just as he’d told her less than twenty-four hours ago?

An engaging grin brought the hint of a dimple in his left cheek, and Vivian had to stifle a groan. He’d certainly never shown this charming side of himself when she was around. In fact, she’d never dreamed he possessed an ounce of playfulness. Moment by moment, she was learning there were many facets of Wes that she’d never seen before. Or was this just all a part of his act? she wondered.

“I have a great amount of confidence in our new app. On the surface it might appear that My Perfect Match is designed for young people, but actually it’s geared for all ages. After all, love has no age limit. Don’t you agree?”

The host chuckled slyly. “I’d better agree, Wes. Otherwise, my wife will have me sleeping in the doghouse tonight.”

Oh, please, Vivian wanted to shout. My Perfect Match was nothing to jest about.

She noticed Wes was chuckling along with Ted as though the two of them were sharing a private joke about the opposite sex. The idea stirred her temper as much as Wes’s nearness was disturbing her senses.

Ted went on, “So you’re telling me that all people interested in finding a mate, no matter their age, can get results using My Perfect Match?”

“I’m absolutely certain of it,” Wes answered without hesitation.

The anchor appeared surprised at Wes’s unwavering response, while Vivian was downright stunned. She’d expected him to give himself a little wiggle room, just in case the app did fail. Was this more of his pretense? If it was, then what else did he go around pretending?

“Wow, that’s quite a statement,” Ted responded. “Especially coming from the vice president of the company.”

“Vice President of Research and Development,” Wes corrected him.

“Uh, okay. Well, can you tell me how this is supposed to work?” A leering grin came over the man’s face. “Say I’m a lonely guy looking for a woman to settle down with. How will the app help me?”

“It’ll save you a big bar tab,” Wes quipped, then softened his response with another charming grin. “Seriously, I think Vivian can better answer that question.”

Vivian felt like a million eyes were suddenly focusing on her face. Her heart kicked into an even faster pace, sending a loud whooshing noise to her ears. She darted a glance at Wes, then froze a wide-eyed gaze on the monitor and Ted’s smirking face.

“Good morning again, Vivian.”

She desperately needed to clear the ball of nerves in her throat, but it was too late, so instead she swallowed. The effort practically strangled her, making her voice sound more like a squeak. “Good morning.”

The show host gave her a wide, plastic smile and Vivian promised herself she’d never again tune in to Hey, USA.

“I hear you are the brains behind this new technical device to find love,” he said. “Would you care to explain to our viewing audience exactly how the app works?”

Shifting slighting on the seat, she resisted the urge to swallow a second time. “Uh—yes, it matches you with the right people. I mean—right person.”

“Could you elaborate a little?” Ted urged.

“Oh, well—it’s the questions. And how you answer and—that sort of thing.”

Oh, Lord, I’m making a mess of this, she thought frantically. She had to pull herself together before she made a complete idiot of herself!

“Okay, say I answer all the questions listed on the program,” the interviewer went on. “Then what? A woman out there looking for her perfect man decides if she likes my answers? Isn’t that the same premise of all the dating sites being advertised nowadays?”

“No—My Perfect Match is different. A woman won’t decide if she likes you—the computer will do the deciding,” Vivian attempted to correct him.

The popular television personality chuckled, and Vivian couldn’t decide whether she wanted to crawl under her chair or throw her shoe straight through the monitor.

“I’m not sure I follow,” he said. “A computer is going to tell me who my perfect mate is? Look, I’m all for new technology, but when it comes to a person’s love life, that all sounds pretty cold to me.”

She said, “Cold—hot—temperature doesn’t come up on the app’s questions.”

“Then what does come up, Vivian? A criminal background check?” he asked, then burst out laughing at his own crude joke.

How to avoid jerks like you, Vivian wanted to say. Instead, she said through tight lips, “Those types of candidates will automatically be ejected from the system.”

“That’s good to know,” Ted replied. “But I’m still looking for the flawless woman. Tell me exactly how My Perfect Match will find her?”

“I—think—” Her words trailed away in confusion and she darted a helpless glance at Wes.

Thankfully he picked up the rest of her sentence as though they’d planned it that way.

“I think what Vivian is trying to say is that My Perfect Match takes the doubt out of dating. It’s all about being compatible, rather than a person’s appearance or the chemistry between two people. Isn’t that right, Viv?”

Smiling, he looked at her, and for a moment all Vivian could do was gaze into his eyes. She’d never noticed them being so blue before or so full of warmth.

“Oh—yes,” she gushed. “Absolutely.”

“Well, I must admit this is a new concept. And you definitely sound confident about its abilities,” Ted said to Wes. “Would you be willing to trust your love life with My Perfect Match?”

“I certainly would,” Wes said without a pause. “I’m more than happy to let the app tell me who I need to be dating.”

The morning show host appeared completely amazed by Wes’s announcement. “You mean you’re telling me that you plan to use My Perfect Match?”

“I plan to start tomorrow.”

Vivian’s head jerked in Wes’s direction. Had he lost his mind? To hear him tell it, everything he’d been spouting about the app was pure hogwash. Ted Reynolds and the viewing audience might not know it, but she certainly did. Why had Wes suddenly made such a wild promise? And on national TV!

“Did you hear that, folks? Wes Robinson isn’t afraid to put himself on the dating market! He’s just vowed to use My Perfect Match to find his perfect lady. I can promise you that Hey, USA will certainly be following the outcome of this romantic venture!”

While Vivian was trying to make sense of what had just happened, the interview wrapped up. And even after a crew member removed her earpiece, she continued to sit watching dazedly as the broadcast crew carried its equipment out of Wes’s office.

Once the room was finally quiet again, Wes walked over to the wall of plate glass and let out a hefty sigh.

As Vivian watched him stare moodily out at the city, she forced herself to her feet. The past few minutes had twisted her nerves so tight she felt utterly drained, and for a moment she wondered if her legs would hold her upright.

“Well, that turned out to be a hell of a mess,” he said.

Vivian winced with regret. Of course he was disgusted. She’d let him down in a big way and made herself look like an imbecile in the process.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’ve never done anything like this before. The second we went on the air, my mind went blank. And Ted Reynolds wasn’t helping matters. He was—”

She was searching for the right word when Wes found it for her.

“Being an ass,” he finished.

She took a few tentative steps forward until she was standing close enough to see his brows pull into a scowl.

“You noticed?” she asked.

“Hell yes, I noticed.”

Realizing she was twisting the frames of her eyeglasses, she eased her grip and thrust her hands behind her. “Well, I’m not going to use him as an excuse for my breakdown. Everything I wanted to say about My Perfect Match came out wrong.”

His expression a picture of frustration, he turned and closed the distance between them. “Forget about it, Vivian. It’s over and done with. And frankly, what you said or how you said it doesn’t matter now. I’m the one who came out of this looking like a fool.”

Stunned that he was being so magnanimous about the whole thing, she stared at him. “You? What are you talking about? You didn’t miss a beat. You made My Perfect Match sound like something every single person should purchase.”

He rolled his eyes. “I realize you were visiting another planet during our interview, but surely you heard me say I’d be using the app for my own personal dating agenda.”

She tried to keep the dismay she was feeling off her face. “I heard. But I don’t understand your frustration. Ted Reynolds will never know if you use My Perfect Match. I doubt we’ll hear from him or the show’s producers again.”

“If this was just a phony promise made to a jackass television host, I wouldn’t care. But I was also speaking to a national audience. Many of whom purchase and use Robinson Tech products. They expect me to be forthright about myself and my company. Not to mention all the curiosity this is going to generate with the public. Everyone is going to be watching like a hawk to see what happens with me and this—dating thing of yours.”

Vivian rubbed fingers against her furrowed brow. She should be happy that her boss had managed to get himself in such a predicament. His misery was fitting payback for all that ridicule of My Perfect Match he’d spouted to her yesterday. Yet surprisingly, seeing the harried tension on his face right now didn’t give her the slightest feeling of satisfaction.

“I see what you mean,” she said thoughtfully. “As a representative of Robinson Tech, you feel obligated to follow through on your promise.”

“It’s a relief to see your brain is working again, Ms. Blair.”

One minute he used her first name and the next he reverted back to “Ms. Blair.” His vacillation made her wonder how he thought of her. As Vivian the woman, or Ms. Blair the computer developer? Either way, she wanted to tell him she’d had enough of his insults for one day, but she’d already put her job in enough jeopardy with the interview debacle.

“Well, if that’s the way you feel—I mean, if you’re actually going through with your vow to use My Perfect Match, then it’s only right that I use it, too. After all, I’m the one who has real confidence in the app.”

With a faint smirk on his lips, he stepped closer.

“You? Use the app?”

The incredulous tone of his voice made her lift her chin to a challenging angle. “What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll prove you wrong about My Perfect Match?”

“I hope you do prove me wrong and this blasted thing turns out to be a roaring success,” he countered, then slithered a skeptical look down the length of her body. “I just wasn’t aware that you were looking for a perfect man.”

I’m certainly not looking at him now. Vivian bit down on her tongue to keep the words from leaping out of her mouth.

“In this day and age, the task of finding a perfect man seems like a hopeless quest, but I’ve not given up the search,” she said primly, then shoved her eyeglasses onto her face. “And now that I’ve created My Perfect Match, I feel much more hopeful of finding him.”

The sly grin spreading over his lips was followed by a suggestive gleam in his blue eyes. One that left Vivian feeling so uncomfortable, she wanted to run out of his plush office as fast as her legs would carry her.

“Well, you’ve just made this whole fiasco more bearable and interesting. I’m willing to bet I find my perfect woman long before you find your perfect man.”

Thrilled for the chance to prove him wrong, she stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal.”

His fingers curled firmly around hers, and Vivian tried to ignore the heat racing up her arm and stinging her cheeks with color.

“Great,” he said. “May the best man win?”

The wry taunt in his voice put enough steel in her backbone to make a metal detector blow a fuse.

“You have it all wrong, Mr. Robinson. Let’s hope love wins. For the both of us.”

* * *

Wes stared thoughtfully after Vivian as she headed out the door. Adelle passed her on the way into his office.

Since the secretary didn’t enter his private work space unless she had good reason, he knew something was up. Given the bad start to his day, he figured it wasn’t good news.

While she walked briskly into the room, her high heels clicking with every step, Wes sank into the plush chair behind his desk and wiped a hand over his face.

“Okay, what’s happened? It’s nine forty-five in the morning and you look like you already need a stiff cocktail.”

Stopping in front of his desk, she tapped the eraser of her pencil against the cherry wood. “You’ve really done it,” she quipped. “How do you expect me to get any work done when my phone is jammed with calls?”

“Adelle, you knew this interview was happening this morning. I told you to inform everyone that I’d be late returning calls.”

Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Mr. Robinson, these aren’t your usual calls. This is coming from newspapers, television stations, radio and all sorts of media people. Everyone is buzzing with your announcement about My Perfect Match. I’ve been trying to put them off, but—”

“What do they want? If they’re interested in doing advertising for the app, then you should direct their calls to advertising and marketing.”

“Thank you for that helpful advice.” She shot him a tired look, then asked, “How long do you think I’ve been working here? A week or two?”

“Probably as long as the world has had white thread,” Wes said, not bothering to hide his impatience. He had more important things on his mind than listening to a lecture from his bossy secretary.

“That’s right. Longer than you can count. I believe I’ve gotten the hang of how to direct calls,” she informed him. “But I think you ought to know these calls are directed at your personal life. My impression is that the media plans to cover your so-called dates. You and the lucky lady will most likely be followed around like the hottest star of the week hounded by Hollywood paparazzi.”

“Oh, damn!”

She thrust her pencil into the hair above her right ear. “Oh, damn is right. What were you thinking?”

Ever since the interview had wrapped, Wes had been asking himself that very question. He’d accused Vivian of momentarily losing her senses; well, he’d admittedly committed the same crime.

“Clearly, I wasn’t,” he muttered, then rubbed his fingers over his closed eyelids. “It’s just that Ted Reynolds was doing his best to make a mockery of the app. I wanted to put him in his place.”

And surprisingly, Wes had wanted to come to Vivian’s defense. In spite of her ridiculous notions about finding everlasting love through a mobile app, he understood she’d worked long, tireless hours to get My Perfect Match to the public. She didn’t deserve to have her effort ridiculed in front of a national television audience. And yet, there was a part of him that wanted to open her eyes and show her that love wasn’t a cold, clinical pairing between a man and a woman. It was all about overwhelming attraction and desire. At least, that was how he wanted to imagine it. So far in his dating endeavors, he’d never experienced the euphoric state of mind called love.

“Hmm. I suppose if you find a woman who fits you like a glove, you’ll make Ted Reynolds look like more of a fool than he already is. Add to that, you’d prove Vivian’s theory about compatibility right. Which would be a good thing,” Adelle mused aloud. “And now that Ben is about to get married, it’s your turn to look for a wife.”

Wes grunted. “It’s not a written law that twins have to do everything alike, you know.”

The cell phone on Wes’s desk suddenly rang, preventing Adelle from flinging a disapproving remark at him. He picked up the phone to answer the call, but noticed she was already on her way out of the office.

“Just a minute, Adelle.”

Pausing at the door, she glanced back at him. For some odd reason, Wes suddenly wondered how the secretary had looked when she was Vivian’s age. Had she been madly in love with her husband? Or had the guy been like Wes’s father, Gerald? Unworthy of a good woman’s love? What if the dating app led Vivian to such a scoundrel?

“Was there something else?”

Adelle’s question had Wes mentally shaking himself. Vivian’s personal life was no concern of his. If any of her matches turned out to be cads, then that would be her problem.

“Yes, there was. Concerning my self-test of My Perfect Match, you can inform the media outlets I’ll be starting tomorrow. Oh, and you might also relay the message that Vivian will also be using the app—to find her perfect man,” he added drily.

Adelle looked at him with dismay. “Vivian? And you approve of that?”

Wes frowned. “Why would I disapprove?”

“Well, why indeed?” she asked with a smirk. “That sweet little thing thrown out there among all those wolves? I shudder to think who she might get tangled up with.”

Wes found it hard to imagine Vivian getting tangled up in the bedsheets with any man. She was too prim and calculating to have such a reckless encounter. “Believe me, Adelle, sweet little Vivian, as you call her, knows exactly what she’s doing.”

With a roll of her eyes, the secretary left the room, and Wes turned his attention to the phone in his hand. Before he could scroll through the call log, the face lit up with another call.

Seeing it was Ben, he drew in a bracing breath and took a seat. No doubt his twin had already heard about Wes’s declaration to use the dating app and was rolling on the floor with laughter. Well, Ben could do all the goading he wanted, Wes thought as he swiped to answer the call. When all was said and done, presenting his brother with a hefty sales number from My Perfect Match would shut him up.