No. No, no, no, no.
The words emerged before Lucy could bite her tongue. “Holy shit.”
“Cut,” called Jill.
TWO
“So the guywho’s selling this place…” Lucy’s eyes flicked to the side as she searched for the right words. “Is he still, um, around?”
Allie’s blond brows drew together. “Are you asking whether he’s dead?”
Lucy gestured toward the hydroponics setup that dominated the minuscule kitchen. Or, more accurately, toward the flourishing marijuana plants growing in that setup. “No. More whether he’s in jail. Because if he isn’t already, he will be once this episode airs.”
Jill waved a hand. “According to my notes, he’s hiking the Appalachian Trail. Don’t worry, we’ll cut out anything that would put him in legal jeopardy.”
“Oh, good.” Lucy’s lips quirked. “What are you going to use as this house’s nickname for the show? The Weed-Grower’s Way-Station? Mary Jane’s Manor? The Dank Dasha?”
The cameraman snickered, amused. Sebastián couldn’t blame him. As naïve and innocent as Lucy seemed, she had a sneaky sense of humor. One he’d appreciated for well over a decade now.
“The Adventurer’s Abode.” Jill grinned. “It seemed fitting and less likely to get anyone arrested.”
“Nice alliteration.” With a couple of steps, Lucy bypassed the kitchen—which, he noted, boasted only a dorm-size refrigerator and a hot plate for her cooking convenience—and headed toward the area underneath the loft. Then she stopped again, this time beside a rough hole sawed into a built-in bench.
The two cameras began filming once more, and the sound guy positioned the boom mic overhead, just in time to catch her hushed question.
“Is this…” She paused, then tried again. “Is this…the facilities?”
Allie strode into camera view and positioned herself by the hole. “It’s a wonderful feature, isn’t it? This setup uses so much less water than a traditional toilet. And I know how badly you want to lessen your carbon footprint.”
“It’s a hole in a bench.” Bending from the waist, Lucy peered inside the hole, careful not to let her long hair drop into the void. “With a plastic bag inside. One which, thankfully, appears unused. And there’s no door separating it from the rest of the house.”
“So environmentally responsible and personally liberating.” Allie smoothed her own hair. “It’s a real selling point. We’re fortunate someone hasn’t snapped up this property already.”
The woman had no shame. Sebastián could have told Lucy that back in high school, but she wouldn’t have believed him. She was, always and forever, determined to believe the best of everyone. Luckily, most of her friends had justified her continued loyalty.
Allie, not so much. And he had the feeling, from the stricken looks Lucy occasionally directed her old friend’s way, that she was starting to realize it.
“Allie,” Lucy whispered. “Could we talk for a minute without cameras?”
Her ostensible friend ignored the request, turned to the nearest camera, and began enumerating the very limited charms of the rundown shack in a determinedly cheerful tone.
Lucy’s head dropped to her chest, and she stood silent and still for a minute.
Sebastián fisted his hands in his pockets.
Over the years, he’d tamed his out-of-control emotions. Very little bothered him. He knew he was a good son, a good brother, and a good friend. Handsome enough not to lack for female company when he desired it. Smart enough to succeed in his chosen field. Strong enough to defend himself if necessary. No insult imaginable could shake his confidence or provoke a reaction, and except around his family, he chose to keep any inconvenient feelings tucked safely away from view.
But Lucy’s wounded expression gutted him. Always had.
It didn’t matter whether the person who hurt her was a stranger, a friend like Allie, or an ex-boyfriend like that jackass Jarrod. Either way, Sebastián wanted to rage on her behalf. To demand apologies and offer them to her as her due. To comfort her by any means necessary.
But she was leaving. And although she’d no doubt send letters and postcards and e-mail messages, as she’d done until he’d returned to Marysburg last year, soon he wouldn’t be able to protect her or bask in her sunny presence any longer.
When she left this time, he knew she wouldn’t come back, to Marysburg or to him, and that knowledge had honed an unwelcome edge of desperation inside him. Still, if buying a tiny house and moving away would restore her faith in herself, would bring back her sparkle, he’d do whatever it took to support her efforts.
Even if her imminent departure felt like suffocating slowly in a dark, airless room.
After depositing her worry stone in her pocket, Lucy squared her shoulders and finally responded to Allie. “I appreciate the environmentalism of the facilities, but I’m not sure my level of personal liberation is sufficient for the task of using them.” She winced. “I’m sorry. I may not believe in bras or leg-shaving, but apparently I draw the line at open-air toilets.”
