“Television is your business, not mine. I’m renovating the store while my sister is out of town, and I have to run daily operations, too. That doesn’t leave time for much else.” She scooped up her cell phone and stood. “Maybe when my sister returns, she could do it. She has more personal charm than me and I’m not really what you’d call viewer-friendly.”
“Wait.” Remy rose, as well, his lean height and well-tailored suit making her feel short and frumpy. “These spots are usually very good for a store’s bottom line, Erin. Did you want to check with your partner before you say no? She’sthe one who brought your shop to our attention. And we can’t reschedule our whole central Tennessee spotlight until she returns.”
He handed her the piece of paper he’d withdrawn from the leather folder, and she recognized the Last Chance Vintage logo at the top of the letterhead. A note from Heather. No doubt her sister had worked hard to gain this kind of exposure.
Heather would kill her for turning down an opportunity like this just because Erin felt deceived that Remy Weldon hadn’t been forthright. Heather was always working on promo opportunities from the store, a part of the business Erin gave little attention.
“I don’t understand.” She stopped. Setting Heather’s letter aside, Erin folded her arms across her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me last night that you were in town to look at Last Chance Vintage for the show?”
“Two reasons.” He tipped one shoulder against the doorjamb, looking oddly at ease in spite of the hand-sewn floral aprons fluttering in the breeze from an oscillating fan nearby. “First, I don’t always advertise my business in case the store I’m researching turns out to be a glorified junk shop or the owners are difficult to work with.”
She supposed that made sense.
“And two, I was a road-weary zombie last night when I walked in here. I wasn’t thinking straight.” His smile returned, the one that made the cleft in his chin deepen. “I got distracted by the nail gun and figured we could just sort things out today.”
What was it about his Cajun accent that slid along her skin like a soothing touch?
“I don’t want to be on camera.” She had survived childhoodas one of five children by learning never to be the center of attention. It was an MO that worked for her.
Her mom’s battles with bipolar issues had given her a big personality that overshadowed the rest of the household. For Erin, being the center of attention meant someone might notice her shortcomings, so she had always taken behind-the-scenes jobs in the family. The habit had rolled into the rest of her life Heather kept things organized, Erin tried to help quietly on the sides and their youngest sister Amy had bailed on the family at the first opportunity, declaring herself an emancipated minor at seventeen and never looking back.
“So where’s Heather?” Remy peered around the shop like she might walk out of a back room at any moment. “Maybe she can be the voice of the store on the show.”
“She’s on a buying trip. She won’t be back for four to six weeks.” Erin hated to let her sister down. She felt she’d been one disappointment after another to her family lately, starting with not showing up for that dinner with Mr. Right six months ago. She’d kept a low profile ever since, using store renovations as an excuse for skipping out on family events. “How soon will you want to film a spot?”
He frowned. “Normally, I’d have a longer lead time. But my host quit a few weeks ago and some of the spots pulled out when he did.”
“Meaning?”
“I just tentatively confirmed with a store in Franklin for next week. I could do the shoot with Last Chance Vintage right afterward. Maybe nine days from now?” He pulled out his phone as if to give her a date.
“No way,” she blurted. “I know Heather would love the promo, but not with the store still draped in plastic.” Shewas relieved, actually, because the renovation provided a concrete excuse for saying no, instead of being camera shy.
Or afraid her ex would see her on television and try to contact her.
“You’re sure?” Remy straightened, his fingers pausing over the screen on his phone.
“The store expansion isn’t complete. Plus, I just committed to holding a big Dress for Success event here. It’s an initiative to help make sure disadvantaged women have help putting together a wardrobe for job interviews and transitioning back to work,” she explained. “Which means I need to really focus on that instead of finishing the store renovations.”
“You can’t get me out of your hair fast enough, can you?” Grinning, Remy pocketed his phone and slid the leather folder under one arm. “I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed, Erin, because you’ve got a really unique place here. And we could have increased your clothing drive donations by about one hundred percent.” He extended his hand to shake hers. “But I respect your decision.”
Her mind still stuck on the “one hundred percent increase” remark, Erin held out her hand before she braced herself for Remy’s touch. The warm strength of a male hand wrapped around hers made a feminine instinct quicken inside her.
Damn him. She pulled her hand back quickly.
“Good luck with your show.” She was sure he’d find another store to take her place, although her pride in her business also forced her to admit that his second choice couldn’t possibly be as good. She’d worked hard to make Last Change Vintage unique.
He nodded, still smiling. A handsome man who could surely find dozens of store owners who’d love toinvite him into their place of business for a few days. Watching him walk away, Erin wondered if she would be able to handle the guilt of knowing she’d just refused the best possible assistance for her Dress for Success event.
Double damn him.
Remy wasn’t thekind of guy to gloat.
But he hadn’t gotten this far as a producer without knowing how to read people. And he was almost positive that Erin Finley wouldn’t let him drive away. He’d seen it in her eyes when he’d told her his show would have improved her chances of a successful clothing drive.
Erin showed the world a tough exterior with her overalls, nail guns and the inky-black dye job. But those pale blue eyes of hers were a window to a whole different woman inside.
“Wait.” She called to him just as he shoved open the front door, the welcome bell still chiming over his head.
