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A crease appeared between his eyebrows, and he looked as if he were about to ask her to elaborate on that comment when a crew member called, “Hey, boss, we’re all set!”
Adam stepped away. “We’re going to start shooting upstairs if that’s okay.”
“Of course. Fine.”
Breaking his gaze from her, he strode toward the stairs.
Bee wanted to thunk her head on the desk.
Capricorn. The most logical and practical of all the zodiac signs. Of course Adam was ruled by Saturn.
It didn’t really matter if he was her Juno sign anyway. While she enjoyed dating and romance as much as the next person, she knew how dangerous it could be to open yourself up to too many expectations and possibilities. Her hopes had been crushed so often on the family front that she didn’t want to add to the pile with a bunch of “failed relationship” debris.
That was why soul mates and One True Loves were forother people.
Right?
From his perch on the counter, Puffalump blinked his green eyes.
“I have totalkto him,” Bee whispered irritably. “We’re work colleagues…sort of. So don’t look at me like that. Oh, you know. Like you’re not a cat, but a wise old owl who sees more than he lets on but refuses to actually say what he’s thinking.”
Puff made a low grumble in his throat, then rose and began his back-and-forth march across the counter. His tail swished, hitting Bee on the arm.
“You watch yourself, Puff,” she muttered. “I don’thaveto open a can of tuna for you later tonight.”
Turning her back on the cat, she went upstairs, where the production was underway. The crew had set up the camera in an upper room that used to be the conservatory. Adam called out instructions, and everyone scrambled to get organized.
Megawatt lights shone a bright glow on the now-unshiny Clyde as he took his place in front of the camera. A crew member held up cue cards for him. After checking himself out in the monitor, Clyde began speaking, his voice deep and dramatic.
“Welcome to the Gardenia House. Once the magnificent abode of Captain John Marcus and now a run-down library in the sleepy little coastal town of Bliss Cove, California, the Gardenia House is rumored to be haunted by spirits beyond the grave who roam these mildewed rooms lined with old, dusty books and—”
“Excuse me.” Bee lifted her hand.
Half a dozen eyes shot toward her in irritation.
“We’re recording my intro,” Clyde informed her testily.
“Yes, and you’re doing a lovely job.” Bee stepped halfway into the circle cast by the spotlight. “Very dramatic. And I apologize for the interruption, but I couldn’t help noticing that you’re speaking about the library as if it’s about to fall apart.”
Clyde swept his gaze upward. “Itis.”
“It is not. It’s an antique.”
“Bee, that’s just part of the script,” Adam explained.
“I understand you need to set the scene and all, but is it really necessary to paint a picture of the library as a building about to be condemned?”
“Listen.” Clyde’s tone took on a patronizing edge. “Ghosts don’t haunt Target, you know. They hang around places with cobwebs and rotting wood and broken doors and stuff like that.”
“The library does not have cobwebs or rotting wood. Well, obviously we have cobwebs for Halloween, and yes, the wood around the window frames is getting a bit warped, but this is a perfectly respectable building.”
Clyde snorted. “Yeah, that’s why I nearly broke an ankle when that plank on the front porch caved in, the electricity is shot to hell, and the doors are about to fall off the hinges. Not to mention the dirt.”
Bee was stung. “My library is not dirty.”
Clyde drew his forefinger across a row of books on a shelf behind him and held it up. Dust coated his finger. A flame of embarrassment heated Bee’s face.
“Well, we’ve had so many budget problems and staff cutbacks that we haven’t been able to clean as regularly as we used to. But I assure you, that will change as soon as we get more support from the townspeople and council.”
