TWO WEEKS LATER
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Jack narrows his eyes while a cloud of activity buzzes in the studio of the local Flagstaff news station. I chew my lip as I keep my eye on the make-up artist who just dusted our faces with powder and tried to apply the wrong shade of pink to my lips.
“I never thought about this being a problem, but having a ridiculously hot boyfriend brings out a lot of new feelings for me.”
“Good feelings?” Jack croons in his gravelly voice while the back of his finger trails a slow path down my cheek.
“Stabby feelings.”
He follows my gaze to the makeup artist sending him bedroom eyes.
Yup. Very stabby feelings.
“Y’all are on in five.” Cassy, the assistant with a microphone headset, appears, alerting us that it’s nearly time for our interview on the morning segment.
“You ready to charm the whole of Flagstaff?” Jack continues,attempting to draw my attention away from the woman risking her life to flirt with my man.
“Nobody will be listening to me, Officer Muscles.” I poke his bicep, a small thrill filling me. They’re very nice muscles. “And I still think a radio or written interview would’ve been good enough. I’m not thrilled about being in front of the camera. I just wanna tell the production assistant to avoid tiny patterns in her clothes. Her features are way too large for them. And then I wanna sit her in a chair and help her find her colors and show her the best way to style her curves.”
“You’ll have Reggie and Clara eating out the palm of your hand and signing up for a color analysis before you’re done.”
“Reggie is a stubborn dandy and won’t change for anyone,” I say with a laugh, folding my arms. If Flagstaff’s local legend and mustachioed news anchor ever strays from his signature burnt orange button-up and bowtie, I’ll flat-out faint. Clara might be more open to suggestions, if she’s able to peel her eyes away from Jack, that is. She squeezed his arm a little too tightly for my liking as we were introduced. The way he flinched at the contact sent Clara a very clearback awaymessage, though. Hopefully, she keeps her hands to herself.
Post-Canyon Willow has claws.
“Reggie will be half in love with you within the first ten minutes, and thenI’llfeel stabby,” Jack says with a lift of one side of his mouth.
“We’re here to explain my exoneration from murder charges, not implicate ourselves in another one,” I retort.
“But we’renothere for that, we’re here for you to show the world the beautiful way you see things and how your special talent helped you solve a major crime.”
“Sure we are.” I smile softly, waiting to wake up from this dream where my passion is something I get to pursue without the guilt and shame of all my past failures.
Mom and Dad were shocked when Jack and I sat down with them after I walked into their house hand-in-hand with this big fella in front of me. But I couldn’t have walked in so confidently without him by my side.
Okay, I could have, but he gave me the courage I needed to do it with honesty and humility.
Mom cried because of everything I’d felt I had to hide, and Dad went white when he heard about the shooting. Once they’d finally listened to me long enough to understand my passion for style and color, and they saw what I’d done on social media, they didn’t need any more convincing that I was making the right choice. Jack held my hand the whole time, answering their questions about the hike. The news story hit the following day, and my fifteen minutes of fame began.
I’m not stupid—I’m using it to my advantage, growing my social media accounts and sharing my platform with a wider reach of people while I can.
“You’re up,” Cassy interrupts my thoughts and guides us to a pair of cushy bucket seats. “Reggie will introduce you, as we rehearsed.”
“What are we doing after this?” I lean over, whispering to Jack.
“You’ve kept me busy all week. I need to do the yard work I’ve been neglecting. Aren’t you meeting with Hayley?”
The makeup artist walks up and attempts another powdering, which we definitely do not need. I may growl at her when she leans toward Jack in an attempt to flaunt the view of her low-cut shirt in his face.
Her cheeks flush red, and she scurries away while someone else clips tiny mics to our shirts, the lights glaring and reflecting off the shiny floors.
“Hayley had to cancel. And nobody forced you to binge all sixteen episodes ofCrash Landing On You. If I remembercorrectly, you’re the one who kept sayingjust one more episode.”
“I had to know how it ended.” He shrugs, as if he watched it by accident instead of making popcorn and being adorably vocal about every cliffhanger of my favorite k-drama.
“Then I plan to float in the pool and watch you get sweaty while you do yard work,” I declare, folding my hands in my lap and smiling at the cameraman in front of me. “But I have a surprise for you at my place first.”
He grins that secretive little grin, the barest hint of a curl to his mouth, but his eyes twinkle before returning to the hustle in the room. Lights that are bright enough to light up a stadium are pointed at us, and Reggie and Clara glide in, beaming their white smiles and rivaling the studio lights.
