“One of you three know where I can locate some of that fudge?”
“Well now,” Hope heard Newman say as she crawled along the aisle to the rear. There was a storeroom back there. If she could reach it, she’d be safe from Jay. “Which type of fudge would that be?”
“You want me to say it slower?” Jay said in a rude tone that raised Hope’s hackles. How had she allowed this man to fool her so easily? “Because it seems to me like the question wasn’t a difficult one.”
“Well now.” This time it was the Texan speaking. He lengthened the “well” for a good two seconds, and his accent was so thick she could cut it with a knife. “We don’t get out of town much. Still, it has to be noted that we know what manners are.”
Jay spluttered, and Hope, who was now hidden behind a large bookshelf, felt a smile tug at her lips.
“Do you know who I am?” Jay demanded.
There was a pause after that, and Hope held her breath so she could hear the next reply.
“Some limp dick who thinks he’s something special, is my guess,” Newman said.
“How dare you!”
“No, you’re right,” Newman added. “I don’t know that you have a limp dick, but it just kind of goes with the territory when you’re an asshole, I’ve always found.”
“True that,” Mac agreed.
She stuffed the cuff of her shirt in her mouth to stop from giggling.
“Who are you, anyways? Seems if we’re gonna insult you, we should be doing it by name,” Ethan said.
“I’m Jay Herald. Head Wildlife photographer! How dare you speak to me in such a way. My crew have brought money into this pokey little hole you call home, and we can just as easily take it somewhere else!”
“NottheJay Herald?” Mac said.
“Yes.” Jay’s voice softened now he thought they’d recognized him. Although why the hell he thought they would, she had no idea. The man was an egotistical idiot, and she could kick herself for not seeing that sooner.
“Never heard of you,” Mac added.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Newman looked at Jay Herald and battled the anger that was gripping him. He wasn’t a man who flew into rages, usually rational and calm. It was why he was good at his chosen profession. Right about now, however, he was ready to leap over the counter and pummel this asshole.
Tall and wiry, he had the look women went for. Scruffy shoulder-length brown hair, a day’s growth on his face, and he wore his clothes effortlessly. Newman hated the fucker. Knowing he’d destroyed Hope’s career was enough reason, but that she’d had a thing with him was not helping.
“Wow, okay, so we saw your feature on the whooping crane in that mag. That was really something, man. Nice job. Those pictures were amazing. I felt like I was right there.”
No shame flashed across the man’s face as Newman spoke to him. He just stood there taking the praise that should have been for Hope.
“No hard feelings about the other stuff,” Tex said, following his lead, but he caught the questioning look his friend threw him. Mac just grunted.
“Mac will get you the fudge. How much do you want?” Newman said.
“Ten bags, thanks.”
Mac walked out from behind the counter and disappeared. Newman wondered where Hope was hiding.
“So how long you Wildlife guys here?”
“Another month.”
“What you photographing?” Tex asked.
“The Great Blue Heron.”
