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“Fruit if they have it. No carbs.”
“Got it.” He followed me to the buffet, which had again been set up on the long diner counter.
“I can hold Tiffany’s plate.” I offered by the bowl of fruit salad.
“I’ve got it.” He used the prosthesis to hold a plate in place while dishing up fruit with his left hand.
“Nicely done.”
“Hey, I worked hours in PT to be able to use the various attachments for this setup.”
“Good job, putting in all that work.”
“Not like there was a ton of choice.” He frowned, mouth twisting to one side. “Had to do it, you know?”
I recognized his resigned tone in my soul. “I get that. I feel similar about my PTSD symptoms. Can’t ignore or pretend them away. Have to put in the work if I want to function, whether it sucks or not.”
“Exactly. And some days are easier to show up for than others.”
“Word.” Our eyes met over the tray of bagels, a small moment of understanding between us. Sometimes there was no way through a painful thing but forward. Keep trudging onward. Didn’t mean it was easy.
But then Avery trotted the fruit over to Tiffany, and any unity was replaced by unreasonable irritation. I took my sweet time bringing the coffee. But she was all gracious smiles, making me feel bad for my less-than-kind thoughts.
“This is officially day one,” Keely chirped from near the door. Holding a clipboard, she looked ready for the March chill in a parka and thick pants.
“We’re so excited to finally have the green light for our sapphic western, Jezebel.”
Wait. What? My own confusion was worth it for the chance to see Avery’s jaw drop.
“Viewers will love Tiffany’s and Melissa’s sensitive portrayals of the star-crossed lovers. We’re talking Oscar buzz.”
“I’m here for it.” Tiffany lit up like a disco ball. I had to admit, she was pretty adorable.
“Bring on the love scenes,” the other lead actress crowed. I vaguely recognized her from a guest role on a crime drama. A Colorado native, she was staying in the next town over in a rental with some friends. “Can’t wait to shock some prudes.”
“Wow,” Avery said under his breath, eyes rounder than the coffee mugs.
“Now, let’s have some introductions of our core cast and crew.” Keely nodded encouragingly at everyone in the diner, many of whom were looking down at their food, no doubt praying she didn’t call on them first. Getting-to-know-you stuff took a while, but it was nice to be introduced as Malik and Avery, heads of security, all official.
“No filming today as our cast does a read-through, and the rest of us get busy prepping so we’re ready tomorrow, weather cooperating.”
Oh yeah. It could snow here in March. I’d had enough East Coast winters. I should have remembered that March wasn’t quite spring in plenty of colder places.
“But snow will add to our ambiance of a hard pioneer winter,” the director added. Keely’s blue-haired girlfriend, Ana, was one of the more soft-spoken and younger director types I’d met, but I dug her easygoing attitude. “So if it happens, it happens. Same with the ghosts.”
“Say what now?” Avery did a full-on double take.
“It’s nothing.” Keely waved her hand. “Just old rumors about the town and why it shut down. There are no ghosts.”
“If there are, I bet they’re friendly.” Tiffany’s tone was bright as ever. She glanced over at Avery and me. “Besides, wouldn’t mean ghosts be a security risk?”
“I’m not a ghostbuster,” I deadpanned.
“I’m gonna need hazard pay.” Avery laughed along with everyone else as he bumped my shoulder. For a minute, the strain between us was gone, and we were back to being two coworkers who got along. But then, our hands brushed, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
Electric. Every damn time. Not like I could help it. Avery’s gaze homed in on my mouth, and damn it, we were right back in awkward town, the ghosts of every shared kiss hanging out between us. Forget old buildings full of spirits. I was going to be haunted by Avery way longer.
Chapter Fifteen
Avery
A nasty chill had settled over the town, but it was nothing compared to how Malik kept freezing me out.
“You cold?” I asked as I approached him near one of the oldest buildings, one that had likely been a saloon early in its life. We’d finished inventorying equipment and had split up to check the security situation of the various buildings.
“I’m fine.” But he rather clearly wasn’t. Something had been up with Malik all day, but I wasn’t quite smart enough to figure out what. He’d been distant while we made notes about buildings and equipment to keep safe and reviewed procedures and incoming personnel from the temp agency. We’d have more help on the days we had a lot of extras scheduled, but Malik and I would still be in charge, which was a good, if daunting, feeling.
