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Wilson made an annoyed grunt and heaved himself into the chair across from me. Two sound guys went to work attaching our lapel mics. Wilson and I said nothing to each other as they worked.
Not at all weird.
When the sound crew took their leave, I dared a quick glance at him, steeling myself against the attraction I knew would hit like a ton of bricks. Damn, this man was exactly my type.
He looked like he had when he arrived from California: LA business casual. From the button-down with his initials embroidered on the pocket to the big gold watch on his wrist. The watch I’d not seen since that first day. It teetered on the edge of gaudy. Clunky and bold with a slick crocodile strap. A rich man’s status symbol. A reminder that he was only in Elmer on vacation. He might not stay. He might not even buy property. That thought stuck in my throat and gave my heart another reason to race.
“So that’s a crowd in Elmer?” His sneer was highly unflattering, even on his Hollywood leading man handsome face.
I made a quick count. “Over fifty people on a weekday. Yeah.”
Many of Elmer’s most prominent citizens milled around. The rumor mill had been hard at work. Once people saw Wilson at the art festival booth with Atley, the potential sale of Blue Star to him stopped being a secret.
“Guess we’re big doings.” The stupid local-yokel accent he’d used was unacceptable and uncharacteristic.
“Don’t be an ass.” I hissed at him, full of venom.
The glare I shot at him would have stopped a smarter man in his tracks. I wished I could knock some good manners into his West Coast head. Didn’t he realize the whole town was watching us?
“Me? Never.”
Something had put shadows under his eyes that the softer makeup didn’t hide and carved deep lines into his forehead. He looked like I felt, and I longed to reach out and smooth his furrowed brow. No, not the time for concern. The wrinkles were his problem. I balled my hand into a fist in my lap. He could get Botox when he went home to LA and be back to his handsome self in no time.
“Never, ha! Says the man who goaded me into parading around naked the first time we met?”
“I apologized.” He shrugged and checked the time on his oversized watch, like he had more important places to be. So infuriating. He was on vacation.
“Was it sincere?” I leaned forward, my eyes narrowed, looking for any tell he’d lied.
“Was I sorry for the goading? Yes. Was I sorry to see you naked? Nope!” He leaned back in his chair and crossed one booted ankle over his knee, and I knew he was picturing me naked.
I would have rolled my eyes but couldn’t risk spraining my lids that were weighted down with fake lashes.
A thought struck me like a lightning bolt before I could launch another retort at him—the boots. His new to him $1500 used cowboy boots. What an interesting choice with his LA clothes. I didn’t think the new guy in wardrobe requested them. No, Wilson would have worn them to the set. He still liked them and what they represented: the Texas dream.
So the snark was for me, not Elmer. I’d earned it Saturday with my botched we-need-to-talk non-conversation. But my screw-up didn’t change the fact that he wanted the Texas vacation lifestyle.Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. My desire to explain my actions and offer friendship was all well and good, but not worth risking my commission. Not in a million years.
“Big picture. Big picture.” I whispered under my breath. He gave me a confused look; it was an improvement over arrogant jerk face.
I schooled my expression using every pageant trick I remembered, including biting the inside of my cheek until my eyes watered. Smoothing my A-line denim skirt to keep from fidgeting, I quickly regrouped. New game plan: all business all the time.
He gave me lemons, so I’d make lemonade. Hell, I’d do one better. I’d get Lara to pour in a double shot of tequila, put some salt on the rim, and call it a margarita. Then I’d sip that baby as I watched my daughter go to Vassar without a student loan. And Wilson could ride off into the sunset at Blue Star.
I’d have everything I wanted—kind of. Infuriating man. Why did he have to be so enticing even when acting like an ass? The memories of his kiss were downright distracting and even more delicious than one of Lara’s margaritas.
My internal debate raging, it thrilled me to see Kate with her ever-present clipboard heading our way. Time to get this show on the road.
“Ready for the interview?” Kate looked from Wilson to me and back.
“I’ve got the questions right here.” I held up my dogeared 3x5 cards while smiling. All business, that was me. Totally professional.
Wilson only grunted. Kate gave him another long look, then shrugged like she’d already given up.
The lighting and sound crews made a few final adjustments. As the techs worked, I glanced at the still-growing crowd. Melvin shouldered his way to the front. He was practically salivating. Nothing that man loved more than good gossip. Well, maybe a vintage pair of 1950s snakeskin boots.
“Alright, you two. Let’s make this quick and easy so the sheriff doesn’t get annoyed with the circus we’ve caused by setting up a PA system we didn’t have a permit for.” Kate stepped between me and Wilson. I tuned out the rest of her let’s go team speech. I had my cards, and I’d do fine.
“We love you, Cami!” someone in the crowd shouted, and I gave them a wave. A butterfly of nerves I hadn’t felt since my pageant days hammered against my ribs. I looked to Wilson for something—maybe support, or at least solidarity--and saw nothing. He fiddled with that stupid watch, opening and closing the clasp. Click. Click.
