LITMIR.BIZ

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of the studio he noticed Channel Eight’s PR manager had pulled out her cell phone and was talking in urgent tones. She’d be instructing her assistants to get this story on the late news. By tomorrow, she’d have sold the program nationwide. Casey’s disaster was great TV.

      Joe said again, “I’m sorry.” Then he turned and—as if he hadn’t done enough damage—all but ran offstage. Sally patted Casey’s hand in what might have been intended as a gesture of comfort, but looked perfunctory.

      Adam headed for his cousin Henry, next to camera three. To reach him, he had to pass the New Visage executives, huddled in anxious consultation in their front-row seats.

      “Adam.” Henry’s round face was flushed with panic. He grabbed Adam’s arm. “I had no idea this would happen, I swear.”

      Damn, that meant there was no contingency plan.

      Henry jerked his head toward the stage. “Do you think she’s going to faint?”

      Adam looked up at Casey, swaying on her stool, blinking rapidly.

      Behind him, the chatter of the studio audience swelled to an unruly level. He shut out the sound, focused on what needed to be done. One, restore order to the studio. Two, salvage the show so New Visage doesn’t pull the plug. Three, get Casey out of here before she decides to sue Carmichael Broadcasting for public humiliation.

      “Tell the crew to follow my lead on this,” he told Henry. His cousin began issuing hurried instructions to the floor director, who was in radio contact with the director in the control room. To Dave, Adam said, “How good an actor are you?”

      “I played a tree in The Wizard of Oz in fifth grade.”

      “I hope you were a damn good one,” Adam said. “Wait here until I tell you to come up on stage. Then do as I say.”

      The security people let Adam through and he stepped up onto the stage. Sally became aware of his presence. She turned and took a few hesitant steps in his direction.

      “Mr. Carmichael,” she said, then remembered to flash her dazzling smile. “Welcome to Kiss the Bride, the show where—”

      He stalked up to her and motioned to her to mute her mic. When he was sure no one would hear him, he said, “We need to fix this—now.”

      “How do you propose we do that?” she hissed.

      “That bride—” he nodded toward Casey “—is going to have a wedding.” He added grimly, “Even if I have to marry her myself.”

      “You can’t do—”

      “You’re going to help.”

      Sally flicked a yearning glance over his shoulder at her teleprompter. When no script appeared, she started to shake her head.

      “Right now, Sally.” Adam dropped his voice to a menacing murmur. “Your contract negotiations are due at the end of the quarter.”

      Sally Summers was nothing if not pragmatic. Adam could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes as she turned to the audience wearing a wide smile that only the two of them knew was false. She switched her mic back on and stepped forward.

      “Well, folks, the course of true love never runs smooth, and who knows that better than Casey? But tonight, one man’s loss might be another man’s gain. It turns out Casey has another admirer here in the studio, a man waiting in the wings—literally —for his chance at love.”

      Adam winced at the stream of clichés. But Sally was headed in the right direction, however painful the route she took to get there.

      “Folks—” she was warming to her task and by now had some real enthusiasm in her voice “—meet Adam Carmichael, Memphis’s most eligible bachelor. And, if she’ll have him, Casey Greene’s bridegroom!”

      The audience broke into a cheer, which Adam suspected was more out of confusion than celebration. He strode over to where Casey clung dazedly to her stool, and took both her hands in his. She clutched them as if he’d thrown her a lifeline.

      “Casey—” he spoke loudly so his words would carry to the audience without a mic “—will you marry me?”

      He heard a shriek from someone in the crowd. Casey stared at him. He leaned forward, and his lips skimmed the soft skin of her cheek as he whispered in her ear, “We’re going to fake a wedding.”

      He stepped back and said again, for the benefit of the crowd, “Casey, will you marry me? Please?”

      He wondered if she’d understood, she sat there, unresponsive, for so long. Then she expelled a slow breath and smiled radiantly, her gray-green eyes full of trust. “Yes, Adam, I will.”

      For a second, he felt a tightness in his chest, as if he’d just seriously proposed marriage to the woman he loved. Whatever that might feel like. A din exploded around them, the audience cheering, Sally yelling to make herself heard. Someone called for a commercial break.

      Five minutes later, the clerk had issued a marriage license. Under Tennessee law there was no waiting period, no blood test. Adam announced he would use his own marriage celebrant, and beckoned to Dave. His friend looked around, then twigged that Adam meant him. He bounded forward, and by the time he reached the set his face was a study in solemnity. If you discounted the gleam in his eyes.

      Dave patted his pockets, then turned to the ousted minister. “I seem to have forgotten my vows. Could I borrow yours?”

      Just as they went back on air he clipped on a microphone. He began laboring through the “wedding.”

      “Adam James Carmichael, do you take—” He slanted Casey a questioning look.

      “Casey Eleanor Greene,” she supplied.

      “Casey Eleanor Greene to be your wife? To have and to hold, for—”

      “I do,” Adam said.

      “Right.” Dave moved down the page. “Casey Eleanor Greene, do you—”

      “I do,” Casey said.

      “—take Adam James Carmichael to be your husband?”

      “She said she does,” Adam snapped.

      At the same moment, Casey repeated desperately, “I do!”

      Dave got the message and started to wrap things up. “Then, uh—” he lost his place and improvised “—it’s a deal. You’re married, husband and wife. You may—”

      “Kiss the bride!” the audience yelled on cue.

      Why not? They’d gone through all the other motions of a wedding. Adam turned to Casey and found she’d lifted her face expectantly.

      One kiss and this nightmare would be over, Casey told herself. She could escape the scene of her utter humiliation, and barricade herself in the house in Parkvale for the next hundred years.

      Going after your dreams was vastly overrated.

      She leaned toward Adam, went up on tiptoe to make it easier for him to seal this sham. Just kiss the guy and we can all go home.

      She wasn’t prepared for the same current of electricity that had left her fingers tingling earlier to multiply tenfold as their mouths met.

      Shaken, she grasped his upper arms to steady herself, and encountered the steel of masculine strength through the fine wool of his jacket. His hands went to her waist and he pulled her closer. The shock of awareness that somewhere deep within her a flame of desire had been kindled snapped Casey’s eyes open. She met Adam’s gaze full on, saw mirrored in it her own realization that this was about to get embarrassing. Even more embarrassing.

      Slowly, he pulled back.

      The audience hooted in appreciation. Casey blushed.

      “Folks, none of us

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