Thrill Me. Сьюзен Мэллери
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wish.”
He was dressed much as he had been the past two times she’d seen him. In jeans and a casual shirt. He looked at ease, as if comfortable in any environment. The beard was a little thicker, the hair a tad longer. The word scruffy came to mind, as it had before. But the sexy version.
She forced her attention back to the conversation. “The second part is a campaign celebrating the town’s new slogan. A destination for romance.”
“Interviewing people in love?” he asked.
“Easy enough,” she agreed. “I have a list of potential couples, including one that has been together for over seventy years.”
“Impressive. On the tourism videos, what do you want to do? Go film different locations with me talking about them?”
“Yes, but I’m hoping we can do something more inspired. If the clips are interesting, we can use them in advertising.”
“Or get them picked up by local news.”
“I’m less sure about that. Local news stories average forty-one seconds. National news stories average two minutes and twenty-three seconds. I’d rather get Good Morning America interested.”
“There are a lot of people trying to get noticed on GMA,” he said. “We’ll have to be innovative.”
She liked that he hadn’t dismissed her idea outright. How strange that they were working together like this, she thought. Until moving back to Fool’s Gold a few weeks ago, she hadn’t thought of Del much at all. Since returning, he’d been on her mind, but that had been a proximity thing. Hard to ignore the only man she’d ever loved when she was returning to the scene of the heartbreak. Then, out of the blue—thanks to Mayor Marsha—he was back in her life.
She wondered if he ever thought about the past. Before meeting him, she would have guessed they had to clear the air. But he didn’t seem to be upset about what had happened between them. Nor could she figure out a good way to broach the subject.
“Hey, Del, sorry I was such a bitch when I broke up with you.” No, that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe she would wait and see if there was a more organic way to have the conversation.
“Any celebrity contacts you can use?” he asked.
“I did the studio work in LA,” she told him. “The celebrities don’t know me.”
“Sorry you didn’t get to meet Ryan Gosling?”
“The pain keeps me up at night, but I’m dealing.”
He chuckled, then the humor faded. “How’d you get away from news?”
A question she’d asked herself a thousand times. “I was tempted by the devil and gave in,” she admitted, knowing it was true. “I’d been working my way up in local news, producing more and more segments. The gossip show gave me a chance to be in front of the camera.” Sadly, her lack of chemistry had made that a short-lived solution. “When that didn’t work, they offered me a promotion working behind the scenes. With the wisdom of hindsight, I’m pretty sure that was their plan all along. But they knew I would never have left the job I had to take the producer job.”
“Hard feelings?”
“No. I made the choices. I get to live with the consequences.”
“And now you’re here.”
She smiled. “So far, so good.”
“Except for Eddie and Gladys,” he teased.
“I’ll figure out how to get them to toe the line. Just in a way that doesn’t break their spirit. I like that they push boundaries.”
“You’re taking their side?”
“I’m saying creativity should always be encouraged.”
His shirt pocket beeped. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. “Mayor Marsha. She said to ask you about the videos you did of me.” Both eyebrows rose. “Did I make it onto your celebrity show?”
“No,” she said, lying before she could stop herself. “Strange. I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
His dark eyes gave nothing away. “She must have you confused with someone else.”
“I’m sure that’s it.” She glanced down at her open folder. “I thought we could do a segment on Priscilla, the elephant, and her pony, Reno.”
“Who and who?”
She wasn’t sure if the distraction worked, but if he was willing to pretend, then she was, as well. Before she showed Del any videos she’d done, she needed to have someone else look at them. Someone she could trust to have her back. The last thing she wanted was for her ex-boyfriend/fiancé to think she’d spent the past ten years unable to get over him.
* * *
DEL HEADED ACROSS TOWN. He and Maya had plans to work on the videos starting in a few days. She still had preproduction schedules to work out, including renting equipment. While the camera was important, the right lenses could make or break a shoot. She would be renting the ones they needed.
Until then, he was on his own. As he’d already started down memory lane with his family, he might as well continue. He crossed the street and headed into The Man Cave.
While the sign out front said the sports bar was closed, the door was propped open. He stepped inside and looked around.
The overhead lights were on, illuminating the big, open space. The ceilings were high with a second-story balcony wrapping around like a catwalk. Tables and chairs had been pushed out of the way for cleaning. There were dartboards, pool tables and a big stage at one end. The long bar dominated the room at the other end.
Sports memorabilia covered the walls. There were sports posters, along with a Tour de France jersey, and signed footballs and helmets.
His brother walked out from a back room and grinned.
“I heard you were dead,” Nick said cheerfully.
“You wish.”
“Naw. I like being the middle brother. It adds symmetry.”
They hugged briefly. Del studied his sibling. Nick looked good. Older and comfortable in his surroundings. Whatever Ceallach had going on about Nick’s chosen profession, Nick wasn’t equally troubled.
“Have a seat,” Nick said, pulling a table out from the cluster by the wall, then grabbing two chairs. “Want a beer?”
“Sure.”
Nick went behind the bar and pulled a bottle out of a refrigerator. He poured himself a soda. Del was about to ask why, then told himself Nick worked in a bar. Probably best if he wasn’t sampling product in the middle of the afternoon.
Nick returned with the drinks and they sat across from each other.
His brother was about his size. All the Mitchell sons were within an inch or so of their father’s height. Nick was more muscled than Aidan or Del. Some of that was genetic and some of it came from the heavy materials he worked with. Or it had, Del thought, wondering when his brother had stopped working with glass and started managing a bar.
“How’s business?” he asked.
“Good.” Nick grinned. “We had a bit of a rough start, but we’re busy now. We get a good crowd. A nice mix of tourists and locals. The karaoke is popular.” He nodded at the stage. “You should come sing sometime.”
Del laughed. “That’s not gonna happen.” He glanced around. “How long have you been working here?”
“Since it opened.” Nick’s humor faded. “Don’t you get on me, too. I have to take that crap from Dad. You don’t get to talk about it.”
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