Finding Her Leading Man: A Southern Kind of Love, #6

By Palmer Jones

Broadway superstar Samantha Nilsson needs a break from the limelight. Well, in all honesty, the break away from the lights of New York was made at the request from her director. She "might" have lost a touch of her professionalism during a performance when she found out her co-star and fiancé had cheated on her…several times…with various actresses and even her agent.

That love song at the end of her last performance raised a few eyebrows when she tried to shove him off the stage as she hit the high note.

Getting away as far away as possible from the drama and gossip of showbiz led her down south, to the small town in Georgia where her mom grew up. No backstabbing agents. No slick-talking men. Nothing but honest work at the local diner and time to heal.

But her peaceful refuge shatters when Trevor Johnson arrives in town. The man is tall, sexy, and she needs to keep ten feet away from him at all times. Because aside from his magnetic personality, he seems like a genuinely nice guy who would do anything to help his sister, Addie, with her upcoming wedding. Nice guy or not, he's still an agent and, well, a man, and those two things she's sworn off.

Avoiding him is a success, until Addie asks Samantha for two massive favors.

First- sing at her wedding.

Second- pretend to be Trevor's girlfriend.

Sounds easy...right?

Finding Her Leading Man is the sixth book in the A Southern Kind of Love series from Palmer Jones.

A Southern Kind of Love Series:

1. Hiding from the Sheriff

2. Falling for Her Client

3. Dreaming of Her Movie Star

4. Engaging with Her Enemy

5. Kissing Her Rescuer 

6.  Finding Her Leading Man 

O'Keeley's Irish Pub Series:

1. Her Irish Boss

2. Her Irish Chef

3. Her Irish Flirt 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmer Jones
• Release date: Mar 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393972181

Palmer Jones

Palmer Jones writes fun and flirty, romantic fiction. Born and raised in the South, she loves to travel but will always call Georgia her home. With a degree in accounting, she spends part of her day immersed in numbers. The rest of the time is spent with her friends, family, and hiding away in the worlds she creates through her stories.

Book preview

1

Over one-thousand miles south of the New Amsterdam Theatre on Broadway and she still managed to draw a crowd. Instead of paying for a seat at a Broadway show, the dozen or so customers at the Daylight Diner just received free entertainment in the form of a toddler, a well-timed temper-tantrum, and a large strawberry milkshake. Not to mention that very remarkable High-C note that rattled the windows when the three-year-old screamed right before aiming the milkshake at her face.

Samantha Nilsson closed her eyes and took a breath, counting her blessings. It could be worse. She could have forgotten her lines or had her costume rip at the seam on opening night. Those years of performing were what forced her shoulders back. She could add this to the long list of embarrassing moments over the past month. Her stomach churned.

She exhaled, desperately wanting an antacid from the roll in her back pocket.

Goodness, Samantha, darling, Mrs. Iris Campbell said, rushing forward with a rag in her hand. We’ve all had our disasters with Louis, but this one is a doozy. Thank goodness for paper cups, huh?

Goosebumps rose along Samantha’s hot skin as the cold milkshake soaked into her T-shirt. She was a Broadway actress. She’d won two Tony Awards. She plastered on a smile as if the meanest critic in the world sat front row.

It’s alright. Somehow, I should have turned his strawberry milkshake into a blue one. The pink color offended him.

Well, three-year-olds can be picky, but bless his little heart, he does have a mean streak.

Samantha took the rag and began to wipe the ice cream off her shirt. I’m sorry for the mess. If you can show me where the mop and bucket are—

Nonsense. I’ll clean this up. You run along and get into dry clothes. Becky should be here soon to help out. She’s out at Addie’s house for a bridesmaid’s dress fitting. Mrs. Iris smiled sweetly, the soft lines in her face deepening.

Samantha didn’t have friends like that. When her ex-fiancé left her, her ex-friends took his side. They’d pitied him. They’d rallied around him. Two of them had so much pity for him that they’d felt the need to console him personally…in his bed.

For years, the man had cheated on her. She’d been oblivious. Dumb. Blinded by Jasper’s reputation and stage presence.

A cold sweat broke out along the back of her neck, a friendly warning before another anxiety attack. Her anxiety disorder had subsided since college, and she’d assumed it’d disappeared altogether.

It turns out that her anxiety just needed an idiot like Jasper to break her heart and ruin her reputation for it to come roaring back to life.

Oh, honey, you look upset. I’m sure your shirt will wash just fine.

Samantha shook her head. I’m not upset. Really. I’m going to change my shirt. I’ll be back in a few minutes. She walked out of the front door of the Daylight Diner. The restaurant sat smack in the middle of Statem, Georgia, and across the street from the charming bed and breakfast where her mom had suggested she stay.

With her head down to avoid eye contact, a habit she hadn’t broken since leaving New York, Samantha walked to the nearest crosswalk and waited for the signal. She’d seen people just step out onto the highway that ran through town, ignoring traffic signals and jogging across the street as big tractor-trailers came rumbling toward them.

Like that man. She’d briefly caught sight of him late last night entering the bed and breakfast. She recognized the leather bag slung across his body. It reminded her of her youngest brother. He always wore a messenger bag like that.

The landlady had acknowledged the man with a bright smile and mentioned something about being in town for the wedding. It must be the same wedding that Ms. Iris had mentioned. The reason a pile of bridal magazines sat in the kitchen of the diner.

Samantha bit the inside of her cheek, keeping back the tears. She was happy for the bride, not that she knew her all that well. She’d not cried out of pity for herself.

Anger. Anger toward Jasper. Anger that she’d walked around, ignoring warning signs, if there’d been any. Stupid. Of course, there’d been signals. Jasper had blinded her the way he did everyone else in New York’s entertainment industry. His name gave him cred. He could do no wrong.

Shaking her head, she crossed the street when the light changed. She reached into the back pocket of her blue jeans and snagged an antacid from the small roll she always kept with her. With the first crunch on the chalky tablet, she grimaced at the medicine’s nasty attempt to have a tropical flavor. Not sure what the red one was supposed to resemble, but it wasn’t a fruit.

But at this point in life, she’d grown used to the taste.

She walked into the bed and breakfast, thankful no one was in the lobby, and started up the stairs to her room. She picked at her shirt, trying to pull the gross feeling of wetness away from her body.

Excuse me.

She looked up at the male voice. Her eyes adjusted to the light, focusing on a tan man in a snug, black T-shirt. She blinked, making sure the man was who she thought he was.

Grayson? Shock and a little relief coursed through her. It was the first familiar face in the past two weeks since leaving New York. It’s Samantha—

Nilsson. The small stairway didn’t leave much room, especially for a man like Grayson Moore, but he gave her a side-hug, carefully avoiding her shirt. What in the hell are you doing here? He pulled back. And covered in what looks like a strawberry milkshake?

A toddler with a strong arm is to blame for the milkshake. And now, the answer to the million-dollar question. I take it you didn’t hear the gossip? Maybe actors in Hollywood didn’t care about her and Jasper’s demise.

You two are about to start some gossip. Another man’s voice, filled with amusement, came from behind her.

She turned. The man she’d seen crossing the street, the one with the leather bag, leaned against the wall. Up close, his attractiveness slammed into her. Light brown hair cut close and neat. Cheeks freshly shaved, leading down to a chiseled jaw.

His dark eyes widened a touch. Dang, you’re Samantha Nilsson. Who knew Statem, Georgia was the place to visit? He walked up the stairs and held out his hand. I was there when you and Grayson presented the award for Best Supporting Actress together. I wanted to introduce myself then but never got the chance. Better late than never.

She took his outstretched hand, amazed hers didn’t tremble. The chemistry caught her off guard. She’d just had her heart, her life, annihilated by Jasper. Checking out guys was last on her list of things to do.

But how could she not check him out?

Where Grayson was wide and all muscle, perfect for the assassin he played in his movies, this man was long and lean. Tall, even being two steps below her. Which was hard to do, considering she was an inch below six feet.

I’m Trevor Johnson. His lips lifted on one side, turning his already attractive face into something a little wicked. Dangerous. His hand was overly warm, the kind of warmth she immediately missed when he dropped it. I’m Grayson’s friend. Although, right now, I’m going to put on my agent hat and tell him to get to the gym before his fiancé returns and distracts him again.

Agent. Great. He was one of those.

Her agent had ended up in Jasper’s bed.

She gave him a pleasant smile as the cold reality of distrust ran over her skin. Nice to meet you.

She wouldn’t man-hate or agent-hate forever, but it was too soon to go making new friends with either species.

He tilted his head to the side. His gaze sharpened.

She dismissed him, mostly out of fear of what he’d see if he stared long enough. Did she look as broken as she felt? Mad? It was a mixed bag of emotions that gave her another headache. I really should get going, she said to Grayson. I don’t want to leave Ms. Iris at the diner for too long.

Why?

I work there.

His eyebrows pulled down. How does an A-List Broadway star end up working at a diner in Statem? And in just a few weeks that I’ve been gone from town?

Gone from town? Do you live here?

My fiancé does. Juliana’s from here. But you don’t live here. He cocked his head to the side. Do you?

If he hadn’t heard the rumors, he’d look it up as soon as they parted. The internet was a fantastic device for spreading truths and lies. She needed some medicine for the headache before it morphed into something miserable—nothing like a migraine on top of the hot tears pricking the back of her eyes.

It’d be nice to make it away from the two men, so they didn’t witness her emotional instability. She was worse than a pre-teen girl most days between the highs and lows. They could read and assume what they wanted about the break-up. Pushing the truth past her lips never brought her the peace her therapist claimed it would.

I needed a break. My mom and Ms. Iris were friends growing up and still kept in touch. My mom suggested I stay down here for a while. And hide. I really should go and change. It was nice to see you, though. She slipped past him, taking her first unguarded breath.

You, too, Grayson called.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she glanced back, hoping they’d left. Grayson had.

Trevor stood in his same spot. His smile had disappeared completely, leaving him looking a little more like a seductive cover model on a men’s magazine than an actual, real agent. His dark eyes locked with hers, immobilizing her.

She’d known a few good agents in her career. But most agents were either snobbishly fake or gratingly intimidating. They either kissed ass to get their clients what they wanted, or they used a loud voice to demand more money or concessions. Her agent, Zara, had been the kiss-ass type.

Based on her results with Jasper, Zara turned out to be really good at that part of her job.

But Trevor didn’t have that cheesy, salesman look. He smirked and took a step back, winked, and then turned and left down the stairs. But the man was definitely cocky.

She huffed and stomped down the hall to her room. He could go wink at some other female who might be interested. He probably only saw dollar signs in a new client when he looked at her.

Samantha had left New York to get her life back under control. To breathe. Those plans did not include a random hook-up with a playboy. No matter how cute or how long it’d been.

2

Trevor took long strides, keeping a relaxed pace with Grayson down the sidewalk in Statem. Located a few hours south of Atlanta, the small town was already hot as hell, and it was still May. Not that he’d move back home, but the weather in San Francisco beat the hell out of this crap. But the weather wasn’t what bothered him at the moment.

What’s the story with Samantha? I know you two presented together last month at that awards show, but why would she be here? He watched Grayson’s profile, trying to figure out if he’d heard something. "Isn’t she under contract for Aladdin?"

Samantha Nilsson made the perfect Jasmine, with her almond-shaped, blue eyes and long, dark brown hair. After seeing her and Grayson present the award, he did the most normal thing in the world. He’d looked her up on the internet.

She had a multicultural background that made her absolutely gorgeous. Her mother was Mexican American and her father, Swedish. Such a small, damn world for her mom to be from Statem.

I have no idea why she’s here. Grayson pulled out his phone. But I’d like to find out. You know, it’s odd that we’d both end up in such a small town. I’m here for your sister’s wedding, but Samantha said she was taking a break. I agree that everyone needs a break, but it’s usually time away from a project, not dropping mid-season and moving across the United States to get a job at a diner.

Trevor gripped the strap of his bag. He was in Statem to focus on Addie’s wedding, to run interference between his sister and their parents. That should be his sole focus. Not trying to get to know someone who seemed so broken. She’d wanted to play it off, but he saw through it. His hand tightened. What would’ve made her go from being a Broadway superstar to the unsure, upset woman he just met?

I texted a guy I know in New York. Grayson slipped his phone back into his gym shorts. He’ll tell me without making it a big deal. Can’t imagine the production company would let her take-off without good reason. Or that she’d walk away from her contract like that. Her work ethic is part of her reputation.

Trevor stared at the cracks in the sidewalk as they headed to the high school weight room for Grayson to work out. Each step increased the tension between his shoulders. Something had put those shadows underneath her eyes.

And he wanted to fix it.

Hell, he just wanted to spend some time with her. Rarely did the opportunity present itself for him to be stationary for a month. Not with Grayson’s schedule.

Damn. Grayson passed Trevor his phone after looking at it. I feel bad for her.

You’ve been out of the country too long. Three weeks ago, it came out that Jasper Henderson cheated on her after being together six years. They were due to get married at the beginning of June. Didn’t cheat with one woman but several, including two of her friends and her agent. Unfortunately, Jasper still had seniority over her. The director released her from Aladdin temporarily to let the drama die down. Jasmine tried to shove Aladdin off the carpet after she found out.

Sorry sack of shit. Trevor’s hand tightened on the strap of his bag until it hurt. Men who treated women that way were scum.

Grayson glanced at him. Easy, now. My contract is coming up for negotiation soon. Unless you can haggle from a prison cell, don’t go popping off at this guy. This isn’t any of your business.

Says the man that almost crushed a guy’s windpipe for making a move on his girl.

Grayson grinned with pure satisfaction. I already had feelings for Juliana by then. You can’t possibly have feelings for Samantha. You met her five minutes ago.

Grayson was right, but Trevor was still inclined to hit something. Punch on a bag or lift some weight and get the uncomfortable buzzing out from under his skin.

Better yet, he wanted to see Samantha again. That would help. Redirection. She was better off without that Jasper guy. Maybe he could prove that to her.

I think I will work out with you today.

Grayson smirked. I’ll take the company, but you’re wearing jeans.

You know what? You’re right. He stopped on the sidewalk. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. Let me run back and change. I’ll meet you there.

He sighed and set his hands on his hips. She just got her ass handed to her by a guy, lost her job, and ended a six-year relationship a month before her wedding. She doesn’t need you flirting with her on top of things.

Trevor held his hands up. I have no idea what you are implying. He did. He dated. A lot. Nothing serious because he didn’t want to be tied down. He traveled the world with his job. Having one woman in one city sounded claustrophobic.

But he had another month in Statem.

Grayson rolled his eyes. You’re impossible when it comes to women. How many have you dated this year? Nine?

I’ve taken eleven women on dates, but you make it sound more than it is. I didn’t have some deep, long-lasting relationship with any of them.

No. But you hop. Don’t you think, after this text— Grayson held up his phone —that she probably needs time to recoup?

"Or she might be interested in going out, taking her mind off things. You know people can date other people without it being a lifetime commitment. Just two people, enjoying a conversation."

I don’t know why I waste my breath. See you at the gym. But I’m not waiting for you to start.

Trevor turned and walked back