“I wish.” She rolled her eyes. “On occasion, but mostly we work long, hectic schedules and rarely see anyone outside of those involved with whatever movie we’re filming.”
Lynz came in and interrupted the conversation. “Stanley says to get yourself out to the set, and we’re shooting this scene now while there’s real snow falling.”
“Duty calls.” Deena winked at him before addressing Lynz. “Tell Gage please and inform Stanley I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
After Lynz scurried from the room, Mac stood to excuse himself. “I need to leave, too, while I still can. Be safe driving to the set. The roads can get bad in an instant.”
“Gage rented one of those four-wheel-drive trucks to get around while we’re here. He often doubles as my driver for short distances.”
The comment rolled so easily off her tongue, Mac didn’t think she realized how uncommon it was to have both a bodyguard and a driver. “Either way, be careful. Give me a call when you get there, so I know you’re safe.”
She wiggled her brows. “If I had your number I could.”
“That would help.” He started to give her his number, but she stopped him.
“My phone’s upstairs. I’ll give you my number. Give it a call then we’ll both have each other’s.” She hesitated for a second. “Very few people have that number, so please guard it and don’t give it out to anyone.”
“I won’t.” He called the number and heard a distant ring. “You should have it now.”
“I’ll send you a text when I go upstairs.” She stood and picked up the cashmere throw blanket draped over the sofa then wrapped it over her shoulders. “I’ll walk you out.”
A wall of frigid air greeted them at the door. Deena didn’t have adequate protection from the cold, so Mac kept the goodbye short. “Be safe. I’ll talk to you later.”
She glanced down at the floor. Her shoulders shook with a slight shiver. “You’re not upset, are you?”
“I wish you would have told me first, so I didn’t find out from my students, but no, I’m not upset.”
“What will you tell them?”
He rubbed his hand across his jaw and then down his neck. “I’m not sure.”
“We can talk about it later and work out the details.” She hunched into the blanket. “Text me when you’re home.”
After agreeing, he returned to his truck, half in a daze. His night—and world—had taken an interesting turn.
Chapter Seven
“Why don’t we have Christmas music playing?” Phoebe lifted the steaming mug hot chocolate to her mouth and blew on the sweet beverage.
Her dad walked into the room. “Because it’s November first.”
“Your point?” Phoebe grinned and pointed across the room. “Look, Mom’s even got a candy cane melting in her hot chocolate.”
“It’s a peppermint stick.” Mom lifted it from her drink to prove it.
“Same difference.” The snow outside stirred her Christmas spirit early. “Thanks for letting me crash here tonight.”
“Of course, honey. We wouldn’t let you drive home in this.” Dad settled in his recliner. “We always love having our kids home. After having Trixie, Alice, and then Hunter back for a while when they left, we had to get used to quiet all over again.”
“I know how to fix the quiet.” Phoebe tapped her phone several times until Mannheim Steamroller began playing.
Mom laughed. “I give up.”
A frown creased Dad’s forehead. “I hope your siblings all made it home safely.”
“I’m sure they did.” She turned the music’s volume down from the high level she’d had it set to in the car. “The meteorologists have warned about this storm since the weekend.”
“But few people took it seriously.” Dad raised his brows. “Like you.”
