Free Turning It on (Red Hot Russians) by Elizabeth Harmon Page A

threatened. His list is stacked with hot women. Hers is a joke. And you heard what she said in her interview...and what he said in his.”
    “Those were leading questions.”
    “Which he chose to answer in a way that suggests our boy isn’t quite all in. This is golden and I say we run with it.”
    “Wait a minute. We can’t do that. I promised Hannah we wouldn’t embarrass her if she went on the show. She’s my friend. They both are.”
    “You have no friends. Not on the set of
Last Fling
, at least. Rule number one. Don’t get close to the talent. Rule number two, misery makes good TV, and good TV makes the money boys happy. If the money boys aren’t happy? Spooky hospital shows don’t get green-lit.” Cody hummed
The
Twilight Zone
theme song.
    Eric blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Breaking his promise to Hannah versus bringing Dr. Pamela Chandler to life? God, this sucked.
    “Shall we move on?” Cody pressed the remote, speeding through the rest of Hannah’s interview, and stopped at an interior shot of the Homestretch Café. “This the one you did in Chicago?”
    Numb, Eric nodded.
    “How come you didn’t bring in a crew to shoot this?”
    “It was Sunday. Short notice. I know my way around a camera.” Not only that, he wanted it done right. As Eric settled in to watch, he could almost smell the bacon and homemade biscuits. He’d arrived at the Homestretch early Sunday afternoon. Alison and another waitress, fortyish, with careworn features, hustled from table to table, while a dreadlocked teenage boy bussed tables. Eric kept his face averted, focused on his phone, as Alison approached with a menu. Then, he looked up and smiled. “Nice to see you again, Alison.”
    She nearly jumped a foot. “You!”
    “Yes, me. Surprised?”
    Her mouth quirked in the little smile he liked so much. “No. One of the neighborhood guys was in here the minute we opened this morning, talking about how an angel of the Lord gave him fifty bucks last night. He described you perfectly. Except for the angel part.”
    “I’m not a bad guy. I came on strong last night but you seem like a nice, reasonable person and I hope you’ll hear me out.”
    She chuckled a little at that. “I am a nice, reasonable person, which is precisely why I want nothing to do with a reality show called
Last Fling
.”
    “I know it sounds provocative, and that’s not what you’re about these days. But I also have an idea what two hundred and fifty thousand dollars would mean to you.”
    Her eyes narrowed. She looked around the nearly empty dining room. The other waitress had just flipped the door sign from Come On In! to Sorry, We’re Closed. She took a seat. “Okay. Five minutes.”
    His heart pounded at the sight of her sitting opposite, though she couldn’t have looked more different from her days as glamorous tabloid fodder or last night’s sexy pinup. She wore rimless glasses and a ponytail that was starting to come loose, releasing a few shiny locks around her face. Eric could have sat there for hours, just looking at her. But he was on the clock. This was his shot.
    Quickly, he explained the concept of
Last Fling
, being honest, while trying not to scare her away. He knew the clincher was the one hundred grand she would earn for the first nine episodes and the bump of an additional hundred and fifty grand if she was chosen as a last fling.
    “But if I make it to the end of the show and he chooses me, don’t I have sleep with him?”
    Odd, that the stripper had asked the same thing. “Definitely not. Our couples understand this from the beginning.”
    “Do they?” She sounded skeptical.
    This might not be the best time to mention that the executive producer would award the prize money to the fling willing to go to the greatest length to win it. While sleeping with the contestant wasn’t a requirement, it would certainly improve a fling’s chances. But regardless of whether Alison won or not, Eric knew