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“Nope, not talent. They’re more interested in enthusiasm.” No pressure.
Time to have some fun and ham it up. She curled her fingers together and held up her hand like a pretend microphone and belted out, “I left my heart in San Francisco …umm …something something, San Francisco.”And she couldn’t remember the lyrics.
A flock of seagulls squawked along with her, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and Camille doubled over laughing. Of course, the discordant creatures were attracted to her singing voice. Or lack of singing voice. Tomato––tomah-toe.
“Keep going. This video is the best with you and your bird back-up singers. The judges will have to name you the winner.” Trent gasped out the words between guffaws.
“Very funny. I think that’s plenty of footage. Give me the camera.” She stalked back toward him, her palm extended.
His laughter stopped abruptly, he switched off the video, and caught her wrist. “You’re bleeding through your band-aids. We should get your hands cleaned up again. They’ve got to have an office on this boat somewhere, right?”
Tingles danced up her arm and her heart warmed at his genuine concern. When had anyone besides her family or her best friend shown this type of focused attention to her well-being? Certainly not her work colleagues or her now ex-boyfriend.
Had she really surrounded herself with people who assumed she was always okay because that’s how she presented herself? People who didn’t look beneath the surface? Trent seemed to see her and wasn’t that a rush?
“I’ll be fine until we get back to the hotel. We’ve only got a few more minutes on the boat and judging how they corralled us on, if we don’t disembark on time, we’ll never make it.” Her palms stung and beneath her jeans, her knees throbbed.
“Stubborn as a mule.” He muttered under his breath.
She laughed. “Did you just call me a donkey? And I prefer tenacious, thank you very much.”
His lips twitched. “Of course you do. Send in the entry so we can get the next clue before we arrive.”
She forwarded the video. “Done.” They’d managed to come back from the passionate kiss and keep everything light, which was the smartest course of action for the rest of the day. Have fun, win the event for Lisa, and then deal with the dumpster fire of her personal life tomorrow. A foolproof plan.
* * *
Trent followedCamille down the ramp to the pier to await the next set of instructions. The wind had evolved into sharp gusts of icy air, and he was ready to move inside.
“Now we return the bikes and catch the cable car to the Fairmont Hotel. And don’t freak out but we can get bonus points if we sing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ together. You up for it?” Camille looked up from her phone.
“You really want to subject the trolley and surrounding neighborhoods to that?” He groaned.
She grinned. “Come on, one more time. We have to assume that other couple will do it and we need the points to win. I promise I’ll never ask you to sing again.”
Something tugged in his chest––those words implied she wanted to see him after today. “Your eardrums, but not one word about my voice.”
“Deal. Let’s hurry and return the bikes.”
They half-jogged to the rental spot, then maintained the brisk pace to the trolley stop. When the cable car arrived, they leapt on and snagged the bench seat again. No other red-clad groups were on board, so either they were ahead of the pack or trailing behind.
Camille huddled in close to him, her back against his chest and he slid his arm around her. A surge of heat flowed through him, his fingers tightened on the curve of her hip, and suddenly the chilly weather was forgotten.
She angled her head back, her eyelids heavy. “You ready for our final performance?”
He was ready to worship every inch of her, no singing involved. He gave a curt nod and in unison, they butchered “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, just as the cable car arrived at the Fairmont.
Camille sent in the final video, caught his hand, and together they descended to the sidewalk. “Now we need to check in at the charity’s table in the lobby.”
“Let’s do it. And then I need to head home to change.” Time to swap the Santa hat for a tuxedo.
They strolled into the classic hotel’s majestic lobby, where twinkling lights and enormous Christmas trees added to the old-school ambiance. Back in the day, the Fairmont had been a celebrity hang-out where the likes of Marlene Dietrich and Nat “King” Cole could be seen in the Art-Deco supper club and the Venetian Room. Today the vast ceilings, garland wrapped marble columns, and gleaming floors welcomed guests into the space. They crossed toward a long table with a Women’s Heart Health Gala sign at the far end of the lobby.
Camille paused next to one of the columns, turned to him, and placed one slender hand on his arm. “I wasn’t feeling much in the Christmas spirit, but this place is so festive, and it feels like stepping back in time, right? Even more vintage than the bar last night.” Her green eyes gleamed in the light and her high cheekbones flushed pink.
His breath caught in his throat. “Yes. And you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Attraction crackled in the air. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, his gaze dropped to her lips. “Camille.”
