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“So, I made it to the top,” Daisy said after he started recording. “According to the brochure, that’s two hundred and fourteen steps! Yes, I took a second to catch my breath.” She did some screechy giggle he’d never heard from her before. “But, I gotta say, my feet feel great, and that’s all because of these awe-some shoes.” She sang the word awesome.
“They’re comfortable and H-O-T hot. Check ’em out.” She motioned for him to scan down. Down those long, lean legs until he reached the tennis shoes she was pushing.
Focus, Walsh, he had to remind himself.
“Mine are pink, but they have a million colors and styles. Link is below.” She waved her hand to indicate he pan back up.
“One last thing,” she said once he had the camera pointing at her face again. “Please, please, please vote for me. In case you missed it, I’m up for the Female Rookie of the Year award and sooo want to win. The link to vote is also below. Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”
She smiled and waved until he pushed the stop button. As soon as he lowered the phone, she went back to “normal.”
“That was quite a show,” Noah said. “Or are you really that excited about footwear?”
“It’s a living.” She shrugged. “Momma’s gotta pay the rent. And these shoesarecomfy.”
Her ditsy, flirty act in the videos made him wonder who her target demographic was. Men? Teenagers? Twenty-somethings? Probably all of the above.
“What happened to ‘living in the now’?” he asked.
“I’m working,” she said. “The whole purpose of this road trip is to document cool places to see and things to do. I don’t normally post so often, maybe two or three times a week. But I’ve got to post at least a couple a day leading up to the award ceremony. It’s the only way to win.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But I’m not here to be your cameraman.”
Filming meant having to watch her intently. Between the short sundress that exposed picture-perfect legs, her wavy blond hair blowing in the wind, and the flowery perfume she wore, it took all his concentration to keep the camera pointed at her. Focus he should be putting toward watching her back.
“I know,” she said, smiling and running a hand down his arm. “Thanks for helping out though.”
Her smile simultaneously melted and stoked his irritation. It was soothing and pretty, but he felt like she knew that and weaponized it to get what she wanted. It confused him and twisted him up inside. Did she have this effect on all men? Or just him? He shook his head. Didn’t matter.
They spent some time enjoying the view before coming back down. She picked up a free map from the lighthouse lobby and circled a finger around before plopping it onto the map to figure out their next destination, which turned out to be some dinky town in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia. At least they’d be heading somewhat in the right direction.
“What if we get there and there’s nothing to see?” he asked.
“It’s just a direction to head. I’m sure we’ll find something interesting on the way.”
He rolled his eyes and crammed himself back into the driver’s seat.
“Have you checked your website and email for any more threats?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I’ll do that while you drive. The last one was in the comments on a video. I’ll have to check multiple apps to make sure I don’t miss anything.”
She worked on her laptop while he drove and stayed more or less quiet. They stopped for lunch at, according to Daisy, the “cutest diner ever,” and continued driving until a loud popping noise interrupted George Strait’s “Amarillo by Morning.”
The car jolted, and Noah had to grip the wheel with both hands to keep from veering off the road. He hit the brakes and guided the vehicle to the shoulder.
“Holy crap,” she said. “What happened?”
“We blew a tire,” he said. “Shouldn’t take me long to change it.”
He clicked on the hazard lights and popped the trunk. She met him at the rear of the car with a sheepish grin. “Um, wee problem,” she said.
“You don’t have a spare.” It wasn’t even a question. He should have known.
“Also, there’s no cell service,” she said, holding up her phone.
“What is all this crap?” he asked. The tiny trunk was full of boxes and bags of clothes, many of which still had the tags on. “You go shopping before we left?”
“That stuff’s worth a lot of money,” she said. “Don’t touch it.”
