The Goodbye Guy

By Natasha Moore

Rachel Bradford is finally living her dream as the star of her own interior design show. But ratings are slipping, and if she wants to save the show, she has to set an episode in the hometown she fled. Worst of all, she’s going to have to work with the cocky bad boy who humiliated her.

Single dad, Beckett Colburn plans to turn an old fire station into a neighborhood bar. He’s blindsided when he discovers his family made a deal to turn his dream into a reality TV project. He’d rather run into a burning building than work with his childhood nemesis--on camera.

But it’s not easy with a TV crew in town stirring up trouble, spreading rumors, creating buzz. Not to mention the inconvenient sudden attraction that sparks every time Rachel and Beckett fight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jul 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649370075

Book preview

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Discover more from Entangled Publishing…

Accidentally Family

Once in a Blue Moon

The Two-Date Rule

Matzah Ball Surprise

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by Natasha Moore. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

10940 S Parker Rd

Suite 327

Parker, CO 80134

[e-mail]

August is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Wendy Chen

Cover design by Bree Archer

Cover photography by Nomad/Gettyimages

ISBN 978-1-64937-007-5

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition July 2020

Dear Reader,

Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

xoxo

Liz Pelletier, Publisher

To my family. I love you all.

Chapter One

Turbulent Turquoise or Granite Gray?

If this were her place, Rachel Bradford would paint the entire living area rich green-blue, then use gray and…purple? Yeah, silver gray and bold plum, for accents. She grinned to herself as she imagined the condo owners’ reactions. The wife might go along with it, but—save me from homeowners who play it safe—the husband would hate it.

Still his reaction would sure play well for the camera.

Why were people afraid of color? It brought the whole world to life. She dropped the handful of paint chips onto the granite countertop that divided the open space from the kitchen. Most likely she’d be painting another accent wall. She’d been given too many bland condos and McMansions over the years. What she wouldn’t give for a challenge.

She reached for her tablet to make some notes when the front door flew open. Mia, production assistant for The Rachel Touch, burst through the door. Rachel, are you here?

Rachel saved her notes and stepped around the corner of the island. Right here.

Mia’s curls bounced around her smooth, unblemished face. She stopped mid-step. Only you could make that outfit work. I love it!

Rachel glanced down at the lime-green leggings and the long, hot pink shrug she’d thrown over a tank with a black and white geometric design. Thanks, but you’ve seen me in it plenty of times. What’s going on?

Mia took a deep breath and put her hands on Rachel’s shoulders. You know I’m your friend, right?

More like a friendly coworker, but probably the closest thing she had to a friend right now. Who had time to cultivate relationships when she had to fight to stay on top in a cutthroat business like television? But when Mia’s concerned tone registered, Rachel stepped back. What’s the matter?

Stu’s on his way. Mia’s words echoed in the empty space.

Stuart Wilson, the energetic producer she’d worked with on the show for the past five years. Rachel’s stomach churned. He never dropped in with good news.

Just remember the viewers love you, and that’s why your show has lasted five whole years.

Are the ratings that bad? Every show had a little slump now and then. Rachel curled a fist around the paint chips on the counter. Was he coming here to tell her the show’d been cancelled? The Rachel Touch was her baby. Her reason for getting up in the morning. Not to mention a big fat I told you so to her family, who’d said she’d never be successful.

Success meant everything to the Bradfords.

Don’t panic. You have a massive fan base on social media. You have the perfect blend of girl-next-door and quirky-creative-genius.

"Girl next door? I turned forty this year." And the stars of the new shows on the Home Improvement Network were getting younger every year.

You’re still rocking it. Most good designers don’t ever have their own show. Mia gestured to her. Or that edgy streak of color in their hair. What color do you call that?

Rachel reached up to stroke the new streak she’d had put in her blonde hair that morning. Blue.

Mia rolled her eyes.

Bombshell blue, she improvised. Javier had been talking a mile a minute and she never caught the exact name.

I love it. Do you know there’s a poll on your fan page? So your followers can vote on which color your streak will be next. She appreciated Mia, an aspiring designer herself, trying to distract her before she actually did panic. Rachel put her hand to her stomach, trying to quiet the nerves.

Don’t worry, Mia went on. I bet the network has ideas to put some excitement back in your show. Bet that’s what Stu wants to talk about.

Speak of the devil. Stu strode through the door. He was tall and bald, with dark skin, round glasses, and a persistent scowl. Never one for small talk, he said, We need to discuss the future of this show.

Rachel jumped in before he could give her the bad news she feared. This was her career they were talking about. I agree. My viewers want something new and different.

He waved away her comment. Viewers want more excitement.

Relief washed over her. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad news after all. Maybe they weren’t going to cancel her show. I can give you excitement, she exclaimed and hurried on before he could interrupt. There are so many possibilities besides residential space. I could design a quirky little dress shop. A cozy café. The lobby of a boutique hotel.

But Stu was shaking his head before she finished speaking. It’s not a matter of residential versus commercial space.

The panic was back. The damned desperation. Different can be exciting. You’ll see.

Not exciting enough.

No one else cared for this show like she did, but Stu had been with her from the beginning. She had to get through to him. Stu, I feel so lucky to have worked with you all these years. I’ve learned a lot from you. Remember when I wanted to make the leap from crew member to star? We talked for hours and you listened to all my ideas. Then you went to bat for me with the network.

His chest puffed out a bit. You were ready. I could see it.

She swallowed. So why won’t you listen to me now?

Stu’s expression softened for a moment, then his expression went blank. "The network thinks The Rachel Touch has lost its excitement. You know I don’t have the final say, either. The publicity team has put together a plan, so it seems you’re going to get your wish." Then he paused, as if he needed to add suspense to an already tense situation.

She was too old to play games. But she couldn’t say that out loud or the next thing she knew, they’d tell her she was too old to have her own design show. So she’d play along. Okay, I’ll bite. What is it?

"You, my dear, are going to be shooting an episode of The Rachel Touch in Lakeside, New York."

What? Yeah, that shriek might have been a bit over the top, but not really. No, I’m not. There are reasons I haven’t been back to Lakeside since high school.

It would take both hands to tick them off.

Well, now you have a great reason to go back.

Her heart began to thud. There has to be another way.

It wasn’t my idea, but it’s the one the network’s going with. This is your only option to save the show.

The Rachel Touch was everything she’d ever wanted. Her parents had tried to pressure her into a career in law. They’d never understood her need to be creative. She’d had to get out of Lakeside and out from under their never-ending pressure before she’d been able to fly, much less soar. Getting her own show proved to her family she’d been right. That she was talented. Successful.

Who would she be if she didn’t have her show?

She’d do whatever she could to keep her dream alive. To help The Rachel Touch survive. But did she have to go back to Lakeside to do it?

She gestured around the large, empty room. What about this project? We’re just getting started. She could shake things up here, no problem.

The Garibaldis are in Europe for the next three months. It can wait. Stu took advantage of his height to look down his nose at her. I’ve already been on the phone with Noah Colburn. Do you know him?

Yeah, she knew the Colburns. That’s the guy who beat my brother out of the mayor’s office.

Interesting. There’s a rivalry going on? Did Stu rub his hands together? Excellent. That’ll play very well. So there’s a feud between the Bradfords and the Colburns?

More than a feud… It was just a mayoral race.

Stu waved her off before she could say anything more. I don’t want to hear about it now. It’ll all come out in the interviews.

Interviews? This was getting worse and worse.

Your fans will eat up the back-to-your-roots angle. Social media will blow up over this. You should be thrilled.

Rachel’s head was pounding. Normally she’d love the publicity, of course she’d love the publicity, but not if it meant she had to go back to Lakeside. There has to be another way.

"Do this episode and make it a good one, or this is the last season of The Rachel Touch. Do you want to save your show or not?"

Of course, I do. She had no backup plan. None. Years ago, she’d feared if she had a plan to fall back on, she would have been too tempted to use it. But how could she not have seen this day coming? If she’d had a plan B, she could tell the HI Network to go to hell and stay safely on the west coast.

She took a deep breath. This was no time for knee-jerk reactions. Her decision would mean the difference between success and failure. Which would be worse? Spending a little time in the village from hell, or admitting she didn’t have what it took to hold on to her success? When will filming start?

Soon. We’ll be fast-tracking the whole thing. The mayor’s excited that hometown-girl-made-good Rachel Bradford wants to film an episode of her popular show in his little town. We discussed options for the project. Your brother’s latest condo building was on the shortlist.

I’m not going to touch his cookie-cutter condos. Ethan had been after her for years for her free design advice. It wouldn’t do her career any favors and would just give her more headaches. And then her parents would get involved.

Who was she kidding? They were going to get involved as soon as she crossed the village line.

She brought her mind back to the conversation. They’re boring.

The family angle could boost the viewers’ interest.

The family angle was one of the reasons she stayed far away from her hometown. No.

Stu studied her again and nodded. The mayor suggested another option. It’s a commercial space like you’ve wanted. Could be what we need to put some excitement back into the show.

The opportunity for a challenge was the only good thing about this entire scenario. Besides the chance to save her show, of course. What’s the project?

Stu caught her gaze. One of the hometown guys is turning an old brick fire station into a pub. The demo’s been done and according to the mayor, all it’ll take is a little of your design magic to get the place up and running.

It couldn’t be.

Rachel’s mind flew back to a quaint, two-bay fire station next to the Colburn and Sons Salvage property. The site of her most embarrassing moment ever. Her stomach roiled at the memory. She cleared her throat, almost afraid to ask. So who is this guy?

The mayor’s brother. Rachel closed her eyes against Stu’s triumphant expression. Beckett Colburn. The mayor said you two graduated high school together.

Rachel’s knees gave out and she barely made it to the folding chair nearby. Beckett Colburn. The number one reason she didn’t want to go back to Lakeside. How could she possibly work with that cocky jerk after all the crap that went on between them? From what Ethan and Helen had said, Beckett still worked in the family business. Hadn’t changed a bit.

His mocking laughter rang in her ears as if it were yesterday. He’d spread the story—no, he’d lied about what happened—and it had been all over school, all over the village by the next morning. Her face heated from the memory, and not in a good way. And she was supposed to work with him? Oh God, it would be hell.

He’d been an attention seeker back in high school. What kind of spin would he put on their past now? There’d be interviews. She wouldn’t be surprised if he added even more salacious details to their history. Could this plan to save her show backfire?

She’d be nothing without her loyal fans. What would they think if the lies about her past got out? Would they turn their backs on her if they thought she wasn’t as wholesome as her reputation? She couldn’t trust Beckett to play nice.

Mia rushed to her with a glass of water. If Stu noticed Rachel’s distress, he chose to ignore it. She rolled the cold glass over her cheeks. I can’t do it.

You can do anything, Mia encouraged. She dropped her voice to a whisper. Come on. Tell him you’ll do it.

Stu’s expression hardened. "We’ve put a lot of work into this plan. If you refuse to go along with it, The Rachel Touch is history."

There had to be a certain satisfaction in facing her high school nemesis and shoving her success in his face, right? It would be uncomfortable to deal with her family, but she knew she could handle them. And Beckett Colburn?

She could handle him, too. She’d have to. She didn’t have a choice.

…

Ow, Dad. That hurts.

Beck kissed the top of his daughter’s head. Why did he agree to French braid Holly’s long blonde hair when they were already running late for school? He was a pro by now, but he still got sloppy when he rushed. Her silky strands tended to slip from his grasp, like many things in his life. Stop wriggling. Emmie and her dad will be here any time now.

I know. She caught his reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the bathroom door. "I’m really sorry about the laundry. I forgot the pen was still in my pocket."

Holly had tried to help out by doing a load of laundry after school the day before and ended up with black ink stains on a bunch of their clothes. I know, sweetie. That’s why we always check all the pockets.

"I forgot. I was in a hurry to watch The Rachel Touch. She made over the cutest little baby’s room with frogs and turtles and dragonflies. Did you know Rachel Bradford used to live in Lakeside?"

He was so tired of his daughter going on about how wonderful that spoiled little rich girl was. So you tell me over and over.

How come she never comes back to Lakeside?

Guess she’s too busy. And you can’t use a TV show as an excuse for being careless.

"I’m really sorry."

I know. He secured the braid with a purple band and tugged gently on the end as Holly’s best friend, Emmie Dillon, dashed into the kitchen. Her father, Davis, stepped inside and closed the back door behind him.

Grab your backpack, Beck told Holly, then turned to his friend. Hey. Thanks for taking her to school. Pop wants me there early.

Davis had moved to Lakeside a few years ago. He and Beck met when they walked their daughters into the kindergarten classroom on the first day of school, two single dads among a crowd of mothers and grandparents. They’d been friends ever since. About the bar?

Probably. The bar was his chance to be more than the muscle at Colburn and Sons. His brothers were a mayor and a lawyer—besides being a part of the family salvage business. Beck needed a way to be something else, something more.

Don’t worry about it. He trusts you.

Beck wasn’t so sure. He’s going to be on my case till it’s up and running and making money.

You know what you’re doing. Davis glanced at his watch. Girls, we gotta go. Last week of school.

The girls cheered. Mocha, a tiny mix of Shih Tzu, Pomeranian, and who knew what else, joined in with a volley of barking. Beck had grown up with Labs and German shepherds. He’d never pictured himself with a little fluffy dog yipping at his ankles. Then Holly crouched down to give her pet a hug and he couldn’t imagine any other for her.

Davis turned back to Beck as he opened the door. Let me know how it goes.

Beck filled Mocha’s water bowl and followed them out the door. While they piled in Davis’s Escalade, Beck hopped in his Wrangler and made the short trip to Colburn and Sons, trying to anticipate his father’s questions and working on the cool, calm responses he could give in return. He might have his family’s trust now, but would he ever live down those wild years?

Beck’s oldest brother, Noah, occupied the main office since he’d taken over managing the business a few years ago. Beck strode past that door and turned the corner to reach the conference room, where his father had set up a desk with enough space around it to maneuver his wheelchair. It had taken a while for Pop to deal with the aftereffects of the stroke that left him partially paralyzed, but he was finally back in the game. Which meant he was back to putting his two cents into everything related to the business.

For almost fifty years, Mom and Pop had put their time and money, their heart and soul, into a successful architectural salvage business that supported not only all the Colburns but their employees and their families, too. Beck couldn’t blame him for wanting to keep an eye on every detail. But Pop didn’t ride anyone else’s ass as hard as he did Beck’s.

He stuck his head inside the doorway. You wanted to see me?

Progress report on the new project.

To Pop, it was a project, one of many that Colburn and Sons had invested a bunch of money into. To Beck, it was the business he was putting his heart and soul into. His chance to build his own future, have a real career. He’d pay Pop back every cent. With interest. But until then Pop could demand progress reports as often as he wanted to.

The bar’s in place and we’ll lay the hardwood floors soon. It’ll look great. He’d installed a long bar they’d salvaged from an old pub in Erie. The wood finish was worn smooth and had a gorgeous patina. The hardwood floorboards had been salvaged as well and would fit right in with his vision for the place.

It’s taking too long.

Things weren’t too far behind schedule. What did Pop expect when he had to work all day salvaging? It was taking a long time because he wanted the job done right, seeing to everything himself, doing the work himself, not hiring it out to someone else. He wanted every detail to be perfect. He was going to secure the trust Pop claimed to have in him.

And what about the rest of it? You can’t just throw some tables and chairs into a room and call it a bar.

I know. He’d spent hours scrolling through online images every night after Holly went to bed and handpicked materials he thought would give him the look he was going for. I’m working on it.

Well, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

Beck narrowed his eyes. What are you talking about?

You can spend your time where it’ll be more profitable. Noah has it all figured out.

What are you talking about? Beck repeated, his voice a little louder. His jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. Why was Noah making plans for Beck’s bar?

Your brother will explain it to you.

I’m here. Noah strode into the conference room like he owned the place. Hey, Beck. Have a seat.

I’ll stand. What’s going on? He didn’t want his big brother running to the rescue. He didn’t need his help in the first place.

I had a call with a producer with the Home Improvement Network. He wants to film an episode in Lakeside.

A reality show? Are you crazy? Beck could see where this was going and it was going downhill fast. He took a deep breath and reminded himself to act like a grown-up and not like the baby brother he always seemed to become when surrounded by family who wanted to tell him what to do. Why on earth would they want to film in Lakeside?

Lakeside is a picturesque village, an undiscovered jewel on the shores of Lake Margaret, Noah said, like he was quoting from a brochure. Hell, he probably was quoting from some brochure. His brother caught his gaze. And because the designer they’re sending grew up here.

You’ve got to be kidding. Rachel Bradford? Beck scrubbed his face in frustration. This was his bar and he was losing control fast. What the hell, Noah? I’ve seen her show. She pretties up bedrooms and kitchens. Pinks and yellows. Tulips and butterflies. "What does she know about designing a bar? And the Home Improvement Network? My bar is definitely not a home. My bar’s not going to be a part of some reality show."

"Our bar needs to get up and running. Pop stared him down. This is a good deal. All we have to pay for is materials. They’re hiring a local crew. We’ll get free advertisement."

It’ll bring tourists into Lakeside, his brother, the mayor, added. Her show has millions of viewers.

But what is she going to do to my bar? His hands curled into fists. I don’t want her touching my place.

Noah frowned, It’s a done deal, Beck. Don’t worry. She’s a professional.

His family didn’t have a clue about his history with Rachel. She could still be holding a grudge. Would she sabotage his place? He could still picture the sneers she’d sent him as she strutted down the halls, surrounded by her little group of followers. He was embarrassed now when he remembered accidentally tripping her when her arms were full of books.

Beck? Are you still with us? Noah snapped.

He glanced up to the clock on the wall. I don’t have time to talk about this now. I’m late.

On the way to the salvage site, Beck couldn’t stop thinking how Rachel Bradford had snuck into the fire station that hot June evening shortly before high school graduation. Just the day before, her friends had dumped all their trash on him as they dashed