David stared at his reflection, his smile gone.
“I don’t care about the women,” Lucy declared. “Who else are you interviewing?”
“Actually,” I said, “I just got back from meeting with Brian Ayers.”
David’s gaze shifted to mine. “Brian?”
“Yes.” I smiled. “Thank you for giving me his name. He’sperfectfor the piece.”
“Perfect?” David’s eyes narrowed on me. “I offered you an introduction in place of my spot. I didn’t give you his contact inform—”
“Hold still, David,” Lucy said. “I might accidentally stab you!”
“He’s a freelance photographer,” I told Lucy, “and one of the most charming men I’ve ever met. Really interesting guy—beguiling, actually. Don’t tell, but he fed me wine and cheese.”
“While you’re working?” Lucy asked.
“You went to his apartment?” David asked.
I met his eyes in the reflection. “Yep.”
“How do you know him?” Lucy asked David.
“We’ve been friends a while.” I thought I detected a hint of a growl, but I couldn’t be sure.
“So, what do you think, David?” Lucy asked, looking up. “Would this Brian guy make a good Bachelor?”
David’s nostrils flared, but Lucy didn’t notice as she worked intently on the hem of his right pant leg.
“He’s . . . he’s a good guy,” David said with obvious reluctance. “I supposesomewomen might find him attractive.”
Lucy’s eyes flitted to me. “Is he, Liv?”
Brian, a doppelgänger for Paul Walker, had greeted me with a huge smile, a hug, and compliments before showing me around his studio loft. He’d worn a nice suit but hadn’t bothered to even brush his chin-length blond hair. And when he’d crossed an ankle over one knee during our interview, I’d spied colorful, patterned socks.
“He looks like a distinguished beach bum if that makes sense,” I said. “Like, I could see him hitting the waves before a board meeting. But he doesn’t have board meetings, because he’s a photographer. I don’t really know how to pin him down, which is why he’ll be great for the article. He’ll appeal to different demographics.”
“Distinguished beach bum.” David snorted. “Maybe that should be his headline.”
“He sounds great,” Lucy said. “I just remembered—David, while I have you trapped here, can we go over a few things? Since we haven’t really had a chance to discuss your wardrobe needs at length, would you mind answering some questions?” Lucy pointed behind me. “Liv, grab the sheet from my desk and take notes, please?”
“You’re putting me to work?” I asked, picking up a clipboard.
“We’re almost done, promise.” Her eyes pleaded with me not to be upset.
If she only knew. I could sit and watch this all day.
“So, aside from work and the occasional event—”
“Frequent,” David interrupted Lucy. “I have events weekly.”
“Right.” Lucy nodded. “Frequent events. Aside from that, what else do you need? You mentioned you’re a swimmer,” she said.
“A sailor,” I said and bit my bottom lip when David’s gaze shifted to me.
“I do both,” he said. “I swim most days to keep in shape.”
Swimmer’s body. I knew it.
