Some Call It Attraction 

Chapter 1

Guess I shouldn’t have said I’d never mold myself into someone I wasn’t. Because the dark-blue satin blouse, black fitted dress pants that hugged my curves, and black spiky heels that gave my 5'6" frame extra height proved me to be a liar.

Even my chestnut hair hung down past my shoulders in a straight line, no kamikaze strands in sight. I brushed said hair back for the hundredth time, then took out my blush and makeup brush.

My hands shook, my breath came out in little bursts, and my mouth was dry, making it more difficult to put on the finishing touches. But everything had to be perfect today. I would get that blush on my cheeks, shaking hands be damned.

I’d finally made it. Had proved my family wrong. I wasn’t useless. I wasn’t dumb. Now I just couldn’t let my nerves get the best of me and screw it all up. I’d come too far for that.

I took a deep breath, then another, steadying my trembling hands. A few last strokes of the brush, and I’d finished my transformation.

My phone, lip gloss, tissues, and mascara went into a small clutch. After glancing around the fancy hotel room they had put me up in, I walked out, head held high.

 The clacking of my shoes on the floor was the only noise accompanying me on my walk to the elevator. I was alone with my thoughts on the way down, giving me more time to freak out. As promised, a car was waiting outside the hotel entrance.

“Ms. Sweet,” the driver greeted me.

I had to give him credit for not smiling or commenting on my last name. After all, I was a contestant in a reality baking show. Even I saw the humor in my surname. He probably thought it wasn’t my real one.

The short drive did nothing to settle my nerves. I eyed the minibar between the two back seats. Tempting, but the last thing I needed was to get drunk.

This was it. My chance at taking hold of my dreams.

The car slowed in front of the restaurant where I’d meet the other contestants and some of the producers. I’d only arrived in LA early this morning and still couldn’t wrap my head around the glitz and glamor of the city.

It was overwhelming and exciting at the same time. That they chose me to be part of a show that could potentially change my life was still too staggering to think about. I had twelve weeks to show why I was the best baker this country had ever seen.

Good thing baking was one skill I had absolute confidence in. It had always been my passion and often my refuge.

The car door opened, and the driver helped me out. I was glad, since I stumbled out of the car like a newborn foal.

Should have worn flats.

“Rayna, darling, there you are,” one of the producers I’d met during the audition said as soon as I set foot inside the sparkling clean restaurant.

It was the only way to aptly describe the sterile-looking place. Everything was white and gleaming, looking like someone polished it every day.

I wondered if I’d leave any prints if I touched the walls. The temptation tugged at me to put my hand against the tile, but my common sense prevailed.

“Did you have a nice drive?” Bert, Bart, Ben, or maybe Stephen grinned at me. His name had escaped me the second he’d finished introducing himself when I first met him.

I returned his smile with one of my own. “I did, thank you.”

The long drive to LA was the second time I’d ever left Colorado, and it had made me feel alive for the first time in years.

He waved me through to a back room, putting his hand on my back, making my body lock up tight at the contact. “Everyone else is already here.”

The other eleven contestants were standing around the room chatting, holding champagne flutes. We would all be competing for the grand prize of a hundred million dollars and the chance to have one of our products placed in a supermarket.

“I take it this is the last contestant? Unless Hector has already found a companion for the night,” a guy in a suit that was at least a size too small said when we entered.

Hector. That’s the producer’s name. I put it on an imaginary shelf in my head like all the cognitive training I’d done had taught me. Hopefully, this time it would stay there.

Someone thrust a doughy hand in my face. “I’m Pascal, one of the producers.”

I shook the clammy hand, putting his name right next to Hector’s. He hadn’t been at my audition, but I’d learned quickly that it took half a village to make a reality TV show. I’d be meeting a lot more people.

Better extend that shelf.

“Oh, yay,” a high-pitched voice squealed, and then a small body barreled into me. “You made it. I’m so happy to see you again.”

I blinked at the blonde ringlet curls of one of the girls who had been at the audition the same day as me. We’d talked the whole time we waited to get called in. I knew everything, from how many pets she had and all their names to her grandparents’ favorite food.

“I’m Mae, from the audition.”

She must have interpreted my puzzled look to mean I didn’t remember her. I definitely did, but her exuberant greeting took me by surprise. “Hey, Mae. How’s Cupcake?”

Her face lit up. She loved her three cats, but Cupcake was her favorite. She’d talked about him a lot when we first met. And with a name like that, it was impossible to forget him.

“He hates he is at my mom’s, but he’ll get over it. We’ll FaceTime, and I’ll be back before he knows it.” She jumped up and down, her perfect curls bouncing around her head, jostling me since she was still holding on to one of my hands. “This is going to be so much fun.”

My gaze flitted around the cavernous room as I tried to figure out who was who between contestants and producers. “Have you met the other contestants yet?”

Mae threw one of her blinding smiles at me and nodded. “I got here half an hour early. I was just too excited.”

She waved at a guy who was standing on the other end of the room. He excused himself and made his way over to us.

Mae tugged on my hand, which she was still holding for some reason, and I leaned down. She was at least a head shorter than me, even though she was wearing platform heels.

“That’s George. He owns a bakery in Venice Beach. If you need help with anything, he’s your guy.”

George came over, his eyes lingering on Mae. No wonder she thought he was helpful. I just bet he’d help my new friend with whatever she needed.

“Hello again.” After greeting a blushing Mae, he reluctantly turned his attention my way. “And you must be Rayna. I’m George.”

We shook hands, and I decided he would be a good person to have in my corner, even if we were competing for the same prize. “It’s nice to meet you, George.”

One of the producers announced it was time for dinner ten minutes later. Most of the contestants looked as overwhelmed as I felt. I tried not to collapse into my chair.

I found myself wedged between two contestants I hadn’t met yet. “I’m Philipa,” the woman to my right said. She was wearing a knit sweater, her hair twisted into a perfect bun.

I didn’t have time to respond before a voice to my left chimed in. “And I’m Charlie, since we’re doing introductions and all.”

Not sure where to look, I flitted between the two. “I’m Rayna.”

“You excited about tomorrow?” Philipa asked, unfolding her napkin and placing it on her lap. I bet she also knew exactly when to use which one of the three forks and four knives next to our plates.

Charlie grabbed a dinner roll and buttered it. “Definitely. This is going to be a great show. And we’re lucky this is the first season.”

Not sure I would call it luck that they were using us as guinea pigs. But if the show was a success, we’d probably be the contestants most people would remember since we came first. At least, I hoped that was how these things worked.

I had zero experience with the industry I was about to be a part of.

Charlie turned in his seat so he was facing us. “So, what made you guys apply?”

Philipa shrugged. “My husband thought it would be an excellent opportunity to expand our brand.”

I wondered if she even wanted to be here. But her reasons didn’t matter.

“I recently broke up with someone and thought this would be a great way to get myself back on track,” Charlie explained when it was clear I wouldn’t be the next one to answer. “What better way to plaster your face on as many surfaces and screens as possible than taking part in a reality TV show, right? I hope my ex-girlfriend has to look at my smug face every day.”

Okay, guess that breakup wasn’t amicable.

Not wanting this conversation to go downhill, I spoke up. “I’m hoping to open a second bakery.”

My phone chimed in my purse, but I ignored it. It was most likely my niece, Willa. After everything went down a few years ago, she was the only person I talked to these days.

I was friendly with everyone—had to be since I owned a bakery—but she was the only one I’d call a friend.

The phone kept buzzing, and when it started up for the sixth time, I pushed my chair back with a mumbled excuse.

As soon as I was outside the restaurant, I fished my phone out of my bag and unlocked it. Six missed calls, all from a number I didn’t recognize. I was debating if I should call back or wait until after the dinner when the number called again.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Rayna, my favorite sister-in-law.”

My eyes narrowed when I heard the one voice that was always sure to make me think murderous thoughts.

“Garret, what a displeasure. And I’m your ex-sister-in-law.”

There was only one reason he ever contacted me.

“I need money.”

And there it was. I’d never liked him, not from the moment my sister first introduced us. He was a selfish coward, and I wished she’d never made him a part of our family.

But if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have Willa. I loved her with all my heart and would forever be grateful she was in my life. But she was also the reason I would never get rid of him. She would never abandon him, never give up on him, no matter how badly he screwed up. And the last thing I ever wanted to do was let Willa down. So I had to suck it up and be civil to him on the rare occasions we talked.

“I don’t have any money. And even if I did, I would never give it to you.”

This was an old argument that he liked to have every few months. He never gave up.

“Aw, come on, Rayna. Belinda would want you to take care of me.”

Hearing my sister’s name sliced through me like a blade. He was the reason she was gone. And I would never forgive him for what he did.

“She would be horrified if she saw what you did with your life. Now I’m going to forget you ever called and get back to what I was doing. Don’t call me again.”

“I know you got a spot on a reality show, and I want some of the money.”

I pressed my phone to my ear and paced the small space in front of the bed. “They don’t pay me to participate. All I get is prize money if I win.”

This wasn’t good. I knew how relentless he was when he thought there was money to squeeze out of someone. My only saving grace was that he was stuck in my hometown, Humptulips, about a thousand miles east of LA.

“We’re family. We’re supposed to help each other out.”

I stopped, my feet refusing to keep moving. “We’re not family. Any loyalty I felt to you died the day Belinda did.”

There was nothing left to say, and I hung up, cutting off whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth. Then I turned my phone off, not wanting to risk him continuing to call it.

After shaking out my hands that I had clenched so hard I’d left nail marks, I went back inside. A plate holding an unidentified meal was waiting for me.

I drained half my wineglass and turned my attention to my food. Scraping off the sauce revealed it was meat. After taking a bite, I discovered it was beef.

The conversation flowed around me, but I’d lost not only my appetite but also my drive to make friends. Garret’s words went through my head on repeat. I had to call Willa to make sure she was okay.

At least she had someone who took care of her now. If Garret tried anything, her husband wouldn’t hesitate to put him back in his place. He worshipped the ground she walked on.

“Did you hear about the extra funding they secured?” Philipa asked Charlie. “It was all very hush-hush.”

I finally attempted to participate and lifted my head. I didn’t want to come off as a bitch, after all.

Charlie winked at me. “I told you this show is going to be huge. This is further proof that it’s going to take off. And we’re here for it.”

I couldn’t help but grin at him. He resembled a cute little puppy you just wanted to pat on the head. “‘Believe you can and you’re halfway there.’ Theodore Roosevelt,” I couldn’t help but say. Inspirational quotes were my kryptonite.

“That’s the spirit,” Charlie boomed, then put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

Okay, I guess we’re already at the hugging stage.

I patted his back and shifted in my seat, not wanting to offend him but needing to end this hug.

“May I have your attention, everyone,” Pascal called out.

Using the distraction as my escape, I sat upright and pulled my blouse back into place. Turned out Charlie was a fierce hugger. I’d have to make sure not to get too close next time.

“Thank you so much, everyone, for coming out tonight. I love seeing so many familiar faces and can’t wait to kick off the show tomorrow.”

My eyes fell on a familiar face seated next to Pascal, and my body froze. He lifted his gaze, and all the air left my lungs. Surely, my luck couldn’t be this bad. There were millions of people living in America. What were the chances that we’d run into each other?

Turned out the odds were not in my favor, because I was currently locked in a stare down with familiar—and once irresistible—hazelnut eyes. His gaze was shuttered, but he’d definitely recognized me.

My hair might be shorter, and I’d dropped a few pounds, but there was no hiding the scar over my eyebrow or my sky-blue eyes.

His attention was diverted when the woman next to him put her hand on his arm. He leaned down to talk to her, but I couldn’t stop staring at him.

Is it hot in here? And why is it so hard to swallow? I need a drink.

Scratch that. I need to get out of here. Now.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I whispered to Charlie and Philipa.

I stumbled over my chair when I stood up, pushing it back with a loud screech. Heads turned my way, and I felt eyes follow me all the way out of the room. I couldn’t help but look back when I was at the door.

Grayson was looking at me, the woman next to him still talking. I almost forgot why I was so eager to get away from him. His attention was all I’d ever wanted, after all. But that was then. And I’d learned my lesson.

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