She gave him points for remembering Kate Mansfield ran a craft shop. But she took all those points away for suggesting something so cliché. “Nope. It won’t work. You’re more famous than you think. She might be a fan.”
He tossed back his soda. “Or a hater. You’d be surprised how many people hate Denver Black.”
“What?” The very thought outraged her. “I can’t even comprehend that level of idiocy. Denver Black is the best character—” She broke off under his amused gaze. “We can’t be a couple. You be you, and I’ll be your…assistant.”
He let out a laugh as he tossed his can into a blue recycle bin. “Why would I need an assistant?”
“You don’t have an assistant?” She was genuinely surprised. Didn’t most actors have one?
“Nope. I guess that means the position’s open. Problem is, I’m not sure you’re right for it.” With a teasing grin, he settled into a kitchen chair and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “Tell me why you’d make a good assistant, because from where I’m sitting, you’re too much of a boss to make that work.”
“I’m not a boss. I have a police chief, a chain of command. I’m used to following orders.”
“I bet you hate every second of it.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, irritated that he’d read her so well. “I don’t mind orders as long as they make sense. It’s the bad ones that—” She shook herself out of that line of thought. “We’re getting off track. I’m not applying for a job here. I can fake being your assistant for an afternoon. Can you fake being a person who keeps their mouth shut while I do my thing?”
“Now you’re just being unkind. I might have to call HR on you.” His eyes glinted at her, full of teasing good humor. Although her jaw had automatically tightened, now she felt herself relax.
“You’re an idiot.”
“There you go again. Do I have to put you on probation?”
That did it. She felt laughter swell inside her like a helium balloon. It came out in a gale of giggles. She knew it was undignified to laugh like this, and not usually her style, but she just couldn’t help it. His eyes kept twinkling at her, and that grin split his rugged face, and something about his utter comfort with his own goofiness made her relax all the way down to her bones. Her funny bone.
“I ought to rescind your invitation,” she gasped when she finally caught her breath. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“No, you don’t. You have a good feeling. Look at you, all shiny and happy. It’ll be great. I can give you some acting tips on our way there.”
“I might surprise you. I worked as an office temp before I got my criminal justice degree. I can play the nerdy Asian girl so well it could double as a stripper act.”
He was still laughing at that when his phone rang. He looked at the screen, then signaled that he had to take the call.
She used the opportunity to wander around the first floor of the house to see if he’d missing anything. It seemed unlikely, since he knew the house much better than she did, and he’d been poking around for days.
Part of her was hoping to spot some photos from Jack’s childhood, but she saw none, likely because the house had been rented to someone else for the past few years. She did find some pencil marks on a post that tracked what heights Jack and Jessie had reached over the years. That was pretty cute. Wholesome. The kind of thing her Chinese immigrant parents hadn’t done because they were renters who took immaculate care of their apartments until Tina had bought them a house. Another reminder of how differently she and Jack had grown up.
He came into the living room and saw her looking at that record of his growth spurts. “As you can see, I was a late bloomer. Last one in my class to get tall. That kind of thing can scar a guy.”
“You don’t seem scarred.” Then she reconsidered. “But maybe you are. Is that why you gave Denver Black a literal scar?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “They told me chicks love scars. Did they lie?”
“Oh, I get it.” She folded her arms across her chest and gave him an up-and-down scan. “You don’t like to take yourself seriously.”
Something flickered in his eyes, then he held up his phone. “That was my FBI buddy. I received a call here the other night and I was sure it was from Jessie. He traced it for me. Guess where it originated?”
“Don’t make me guess, I fucking hate that. Just tell me.”
His lips quirked. “Here. Sea Smoke Island. If it was Jessie, she’s on the island somewhere.”
“He couldn’t pinpoint it better than that?”
“No.”
She sorted through their options. Should this new information change their plans? “How did you know it was her on the phone?”
“I don’t. I just got that feeling. Jessie and I are really close. But I can’t say for sure. It could have been wishful thinking.”
