Becky Jean had to be the worst spokesperson he’d ever seen, but Ford knew exactly how to fix the problem. He didn’t know shit about teleprompters, but, being mechanically gifted, he could figure out most anything. Arriving early to the makeshift set, he disabled the reading device. Without it as a crutch, Becky Jean would be obliged to interact with him instead of just reading scripted lines. She’d never had any trouble telling him exactly what she thought, so, he reasoned, if he could keep her attention focused on him, she’d forget all about the camera and the audience, and things would go much smoother. He hadn’t convinced Justin, but the younger man agreed to give it a shot after Ford added another percentage point to the man’s commission off sales made through their new 800 number.
“Don’t let on you know this is a setup or she’ll walk,” he cautioned their jack-of-all-things-television.
“My lips are sealed, Mr. Adams.”
“Seeing as we’re partners in crime, why don’t you call me Ford?”
The kid nodded. “Ford it is. You really think your partner is going to be able to pull this off?”
“If there’s one thing I know about Becky Jean, it’s she can do anything she sets her mind to. Just remember, no matter how mad she gets, keep the cameras rolling.”
“Whatever you say, Ford.”
Becky Jean breezed in. Earlier in the day, she’d had on a cute dress that reminded him of summer picnics. The suit she’d changed into screamed cock-block. If she buttoned up any tighter, her eyeballs would bulge out.
“Oh, hell, no.”
“What?” She stopped in her tracks. “Is something wrong?”
“Where’d you get the Mary Poppins’ suit?”
She glanced down at herself. “Nordstrom’s in Dallas. Why?”
“It’s hideous.” Judging by the color in her cheeks, he’d pissed her off and he hadn’t uttered a single lie. “Is it the same one Lucille Ball wore in the Vita-Meata-Vegimin commercial?” It damn sure could have been. It was that ugly.
She lifted the skirt thingy hanging over her hips. “Peplums are very much in style, I’ll have you know.”
“You wearing something under that hideous thing?”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish as she absorbed the insult and contemplated her answer. “Of course.”
Just as he’d thought. Buttoned-up Becky Jean would have more than one layer of armor. “Then take it off. Style or no style, the jacket has to go.”
She turned to Justin, silently asking his opinion. The younger man didn’t miss a beat. He shook his head. “I’m with Ford. Take it off.”
“Well, I never—” She removed the jacket, then hung it carefully on the doorknob. “Satisfied?” She spread her arms wide to show off a silk blouse. It wasn’t anywhere near as ugly as the suit coat, but it still screamed uptight bitch, not sexy woman.
“It’s not great, but it’s better.” Ford motioned her over to her spot beside him. They would open with a wide shot of the two of them then narrow to a close-up as the two introduced themselves and welcomed viewers to their new show. Later, they would move to the display table and spend the last twenty minutes talking about today’s product—the Safeguard Backdoor Locking System.
Becky Jean had done a credible job with the script she’d prepared for the sabotaged teleprompter, but it had nearly bored Ford to death. If they had any chance of this network idea working, they were going to have to grab any viewer’s they had by the short hairs and refuse to let go.
He fully understood his plan could backfire. Becky Jean could walk out and leave him there to woo customers all by himself, but he didn’t think she would. He needed it not to happen. If he had to subject himself to public ridicule, she would, too. They were partners, after all.
She placed her feet precisely over the X taped on the floor. “Let’s do this.”
Ford glanced at the clock. Less than a minute to airtime. He exchanged a look with Justin then turned his gaze on Becky Jean. “Hmm. Something is still not right.”
“Really? I look perfectly fine. Nobody’s going to be looking at me anyway.”
Oh, he begged to differ. Yes, the women would be looking at him most likely, but they’d be curious about Becky Jean. They weren’t just selling butt plugs, they were selling sex. And though he thought she oozed sex appeal no matter what she wore, present suit notwithstanding, the viewers, all two of them, he suspected, didn’t know his partner as well as he did. Therefore, something had to change.
“Which is why we need to do something different. No one wants to buy a butt plug from someone who looks like their ass is so tight nothing short of a jackhammer could drive a wedge of plastic up it.”
Color flooded her cheeks, and her mouth fell open in horror. Moving quickly, Ford reached for the top button on her blouse. Despite its tight-ass appearance, the fabric was the softest silk. Under different circumstances, he wouldn’t mind feeling it slide against certain parts of his body. His fingers slipped, but he managed to release the top two buttons before Becky Jean recovered from his shocking statement. By then, it was too late. The fabric fell in a soft V from her collarbone to the top of her cleavage. Bedroom ready, he’d call the look. Perfect.
“On the air in Three. Two. One,” Justin counted down.
Ford faced the camera and plastered a smile on his face he’d used countless times to charm women out of their panties. Slipping his arm around Becky Jean’s waist, he tugged her to his side. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the ASS—The Adult Shopping Show. I’m K. Ford Adams, and this is my partner, B.J. Parker.” He smiled down at Becky Jean who looked sexy as sin with her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. He hoped the audience would interpret the anger simmering in her gaze for another sort of passion. Before she found her voice, Ford rushed on with the detailed instructions he’d memorized from the original script. Business was business, and the viewers, if they had any, needed to understand how the ordering process worked.
Keeping his arm snug across her back and his fingers digging into her hip, he ushered Becky Jean to the display table, talking to the camera all the way.
“B.J. and I want you to know every product we recommend has been tested by us and deemed worthy of adding to your bedroom collection. And all our products come with a money-back guarantee. If the product doesn’t live up to your expectations, simply return it for a full refund within thirty days of purchase.”
He stopped behind the draped table where an array of butt plugs lay artfully arranged to showcase the item from all angles. After the initial release, sales had warranted production of the plug in various sizes from a slim, beginner model to a fist-sized one for the more advanced ass-play crowd. Across the board, the line represented the lion’s share of their earnings.
“Tonight, we want to introduce you to a revolutionary new product—the Safeguard Backdoor Locking System.”
She was going to kill him. Right there on local television. Becky thanked heaven the projected viewership for the eleven-thirty-to-midnight time slot on the small regional cable network amounted to about a dozen people. With any luck, ten of those had already fallen asleep, leaving only two witnesses, and Justin, to convict her of murder.
Ford’s voice droned in her ears as he explained to the camera what made his butt plug better than all the others on the market. No one knew the item better than the man who had designed it, and his expertise came through in his confident tone of voice. Every woman out there would be hanging on his every honey-and-testosterone-laden word. As she’d suspected from the beginning, he didn’t need her. They were twenty minutes into the half-hour show, and she hadn’t uttered a single word.
“B.J., honey, you’ve tried the revolutionary new Safeguard Backdoor Locking System. Why don’t you tell the viewers what you thought of the product?”
What the hell? He didn’t really expect her to endorse his butt plug, did he?
Rage washed through her, making her see red. The two viewers who were still awake would know she’d tried not only his invention, but several of their competitors. She really was going to kill him, but first, she’d give him what he wanted.
“Go ahead, honey. How did it compare to others you’ve tried?”
Remembering her humiliation at having to call him to help her remove the plug, she smiled up at him. “I’d be happy to, Ford.” Facing the camera, she began. “Ladies, I have tried the Safeguard Backdoor Locking System, and let me tell you, the operative word here is ‘locking.’” She picked up the medium-sized sample and pointed the base toward the camera. “Justin, can you get a close-up of this, please?
“There, ladies. See how tiny the key is?” She looked into the camera lens. “We’ve all fumbled with trying to fit a key into a lock in the dark, and know how impossible it is even with a key the size of your car or house key. Now, imagine this product is in place, and you want to remove it. There is no way you’re getting this out on your own. Once it’s in, and the lock is engaged, it isn’t going anywhere until your partner inserts the key for you.”
“And, there you have it, folks!” Ford took the plug from her hand and held it up triumphantly. “A glowing testimonial from B.J. Parker! Thanks for watching, and remember, the number is 1-800-BUT-PLUG. We’re K. Ford Adams and B.J. Parker for the Adult Shopping Show, saying good night, and sleep tight. See you next week. Same time. Same channel.”
He tugged her close and planted a kiss on the top of her head just as Justin chirped from behind the control panel, “And, we’re out!”
Ford’s hand slid from where it rested on her hip, and she had to grab the table to steady herself. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been relying on him to keep her upright during the show.
“Great job, Ford. And, Ms. Parker, you were awesome!” Justin bounced with his enthusiasm.
“Are you insane?” She directed her tirade at Ford. “What happened to the script?”
“The teleprompter broke just before you got here. We figured you’d have a coronary, so we decided not to tell you and just wing it.”
“Wing it?” She might be irrational, but his winging it had gone too far. “How dare you tell the whole world I’ve tried the… the System?”
“I didn’t exactly tell the whole world, Becky Jean. You said it yourself. The viewership for this time slot is practically nothing. So what if two or three people know? None of them know you.”
“They might!” She stomped to the door and grabbed her jacket off the doorknob. Jamming her arms into the sleeves, she faced him. “What if my mother is one of the people who saw the show?”
He shrugged, and she looked around for something to throw at him. Seeing nothing she could easily pick up, she shook her head in frustration.
“For what it’s worth, Ms. Parker,” Justin piped up, “I thought it went very well. Better than rehearsal, and the sparks flying between you two was awesome. Heck, you had me wanting to call in, and I’ve already got the samples you gave me.”
“Thanks, Justin,” she said, ashamed she’d ranted at Ford in front of an employee. “I’m glad you found the spectacle entertaining.”
A knock sounded on the door. Becky spun around and opened it. The young woman she’d hired to work the switchboard overnight in case orders actually came in stood there with a worried look in her eyes. “Yes, Camille, what is it?”
“Ms. Parker, ma’am. Uh…. Could you maybe take a few calls? Kim and Lisa are answering calls as fast as they can, but people are hanging up.”
“People are calling in?” She couldn’t believe it. “How many calls have come in?”
“At least a hundred, and those are the ones I could answer. If this keeps up, you’re going to need a bigger switchboard and a lot more order takers.”
“We’ll be right there,” Ford said over Becky’s shoulder. “Can you patch calls into our offices?”
“Sure. Just let me know when you’re ready.” Becky stared at the girl’s retreating back.
“We’d better hustle. Justin, can you take a few calls, too?”
“Sure thing.” As the technician pushed past her, she thought she heard him say, “Who would have thunk it?”
She sure hadn’t.