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Maybe annoyance.
“I’m sorry, but no. I’m sorry you drove all the way up here. You should have listened to Charleigh.”
“You may as well let me in, Tatum,” I say, trying to change tactics. “I have access to the house.” Okay, so that just sounded creepy.
Hopefully she wasn’t a police-on-speed-dial actress.
“I have pastries. Charleigh’s favorite spot in town. Surely you know of it? Maybe you went there this last weekend with her?” I hold up the hand that’s holding both a coffee and the pastry bag, rocking it back and forth. I watch her eyes—an eerily clear gray—move to the bag, and she swallows.
She wants the pastry.
“You know you want it.”
She looks to me, shaking her head. “I already ate. No, thank you.”
Tatum steps back and tries to close the door but I wedge my foot into the jam before she can.
“Please. Let’s just talk about it.”
“The answer is no.”
“Five minutes.”
“It will still be no.”
“Two minutes.”
“No.”
“Please.”
She shakes her head.
I wave the bag around again.
She sighs—and rolls her eyes only to hold them up, as if she’s looking for patience from the clouds. “You’re wasting your time, Cade.”
“No such thing as wasted time with a pretty girl.”
That earns me a small, but real, smile. Too quickly though, it’s gone.
“I don’t like pushy men.”
“Two minutes, and a chocolate drizzled croissant. Then you can say no all over again.”
Her lips push out and I’d guess she’s chewing on her cheek. Perhaps a nervous habit?
But then she’s stepping back, and I walk into the house.
***
The woman stood her ground.
I mean, what was I going to do? Show her a script that she’d already read?
Tell her about the beautiful countryside we’d be shooting in? Turns out, her television show was filmed in Vancouver too.
So, basically…
