Northwest Romantic Comedies: Boxed Set Books 1-6

by Lia London

  Chieko’s heart thumped urgently. Would they go back to her apartment? She’d be alone with Barth. Would he flirt her to death, or would they be able to focus on their work?

  Frowning to herself, she admitted her focus troubles had nothing to do with his behavior. His sheer presence distracted her. Hearing his voice onscreen, sensing his arm and leg an inch away, and breathing in his clean, manly smell lulled her into a mental state only one step up from rice pudding.

  “Maybe we can do that part tomorrow?” suggested Barth.

  Chieko’s eyes widened. “Tomorrow? How long is this all going to take?”

  “Don’t we want to do it right? Parker said to give it our best effort and send her the mock-up on Thursday night.”

  Chieko admired his determination. “You know, Barth, I’m impressed. I would never have guessed in a million years you could stay on task like this.”

  “My brain is programmed to stay in the game for sixty minutes plus stoppage time.”

  Chieko laughed. “Then we’re almost done for the day?”

  “No, no. Don’t you know anything about football? An hour of play means over three hours on the field.”

  “Wow, not very efficient,” said Chieko, lifting her sandwich. “Do we have to take three times longer?”

  “Trying to get rid of me already?” he asked.

  “Why do you insist on thinking I’m mean?”

  MarLee set tall glasses of milk before them. “No, honey. He can’t get enough of you.”

  Chieko yelped, and Barth widened his eyes meaningfully at Grammy MarLee. The old woman chuckled warmly and shuffled back into the living room.

  Barth looked at Chieko with a worried expression. “You on a time crunch today?”

  Chieko shook her head, covering her chewing with three fingers. When she swallowed, she said, “No, but it gives me an idea. Any chance you can separate out Martha’s nutcracking noises? We could use those for scene transitions, don’t you think?”

  Barth’s smile spread wide. “That’s a funny idea!” He punched her arm lightly. “Good for you, being silly. See, I’m rubbing off on you!”

  “Oh yeah, totally,” said Chieko, shouldering him.

  The warmth of his body took her breath away, and she fell into a coughing fit.

  “Do I slap your back this time?” asked Barth, both hands raised in the air as if surrendering to a shooter.

  Reaching for her milk, Chieko shook her head. Still, Barth rubbed a soothing circle on her back as she washed down the meatloaf crumbs. Another whoosh of warmth went through her at his touch, but this time, she accepted it. Leaning into him, she croaked, “Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. How about I separate the vid from the audio while you decide what order we should put everything?”

  “Good plan,” said Chieko, pulling away. Of course. They needed to work, not snuggle.

  Snuggle?

  Chieko reprimanded herself for letting her thoughts slip in that direction and reached for her purse to pull out a notepad and pen. “Let’s plot this story.”

  Even as she jotted down ideas for how to piece together the segments, she wondered how her own life story might unfold. Could there be a sweet romance in her future?

  Chapter 6 ~ Getting the Story Right

  Barth shriveled a little under the stern gaze of the white man in business attire who entered the elevator as he and Chieko exited onto her floor. This swanky apartment skyrise surpassed anything he’d seen before, especially in Portland, and he wondered if African-Americans who weren’t working security ever entered the building.

  “This feels more like a hotel,” he mumbled into her shoulder as she worked the key into the lock.

  “Yeah. My parents insisted, though. Dad’s friend, Charles Sato claims it’s the place to live for an up-and-coming single downtown.”

  “Is he single?”

  “Yes, and crazy rich.” She stopped in front of a gleaming white door and began fiddling with the key.

  “Does he live in the building, too?”

  Chieko glanced away. “The indoor corridors supposedly make us less susceptible to break-ins.” She shrugged and shouldered open her door. “Not that there’s anything left to steal after you pay rent. Shoes off, please.”

  Barth eyed the white carpet. “Yeah. I can see why. Every little footprint would show.”

  Chieko glanced over her shoulder at him. “Hm? Oh. Actually, I guess it’s one of those Japanese things. We always do, even at my parents’ house.”

  Barth examined her living space. Compact and stark, it showed an alarming lack of personality. White walls and carpet set off the black, metallic desk and chair, black leather sofa, and black stools set at the kitchen bar.

  “Are you color blind or something?” he asked, almost afraid to step further into the room lest his feet leave a mark.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Everything’s black and white.”

  A crease deepened between Chieko’s eyes. “I like the sharp contrast, I guess.”

  “Hm.” Barth turned his face away to hide his disapproval. “This could pass for a display in a furniture store.” Except a store would have included a vase of fake flowers or a throw pillow.

  An awkward silence fell until Barth smoothed his palm over the kitchen counter. “Is this where we should set up?”

  “Um, yeah. If you want to.” She perched on the stool beside him and looked at him expectantly.

  Barth straddled the other stool and opened up the gear. “Okay, let’s get down to business. There were seventeen possible spots where we could re-record your voice.” He slid the mic closer to her and pointed to his notes. “Count to two in your head before speaking, then count two again before starting the next one. It’ll make splicing it easier.”

  “Sounds good.”

  By the time she had recited four of the questions, Barth stopped the recording. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Wrong?”

  “You sound too serious.”

  “It’s called a professional tone.”

  Barth widened his eyes at her defensiveness. “It should sound more like a conversation.”

  “But I’m not having a conversation. I’m recording questions.”

  He shook his head. “The viewers have no way of knowing this isn’t going back-and-forth. You’ve got to make it sound friendly, like you’re really interested.”

  “Barth.” She glared at him. “Can we just finish these?”

  “No. You said the words, but you might as well have been asking when they got their last tetanus shot. You didn’t sound interested.”

  Chieko grunted and pushed herself away from the counter. “Oh, come on. Let’s record these and—”

  Barth caught her arm. “What was your favorite thing about being at the museum?”

  “What?” She stared at his hand on her elbow.

  “What did you like best about being there?”

  Chieko frowned and then tilted her head to the side, as if searching the air for a memory. The light in her eyes changed and a smile played at her lips. “I think seeing the kids’ reaction when they came off the elevator.”

  “I can see it,” he said. “It reflects in your whole expression.” He pressed the record button. “Ask the question.”

  Chieko obeyed, her voice still carrying the half smile.

  Barth punched the keyboard. “There. That’s it.”

  “Barth, this is stupid.”

  “Listen.” He played back the first recording she’d made followed by the second. “Hear the change?”

  Chieko’s eyes widened. “Oh wow.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know it would make such a difference.”

  Barth’s eyes traced the way her hair had fallen across her collar bone before looking up to see her lips curved into a smile. He blinked slowly, stupidly, then caught himself when her brow hitched upwards.

  Hitting Record, he pointed to the dialogue notes. “Read these. Pause in between. K
eep smiling.”

  Chieko rolled her eyes and began the list of questions afresh. Barth watched her closely, enjoying the shape of her mouth as she spoke. When she faded into a more automatic tone, he hunched closer made a goofy face, sticking out his tongue, and a measure of laughter rolled through her dialogue.

  “Barth, you’re going to make me screw up!” she protested.

  “You sound great, Miss Chieko,” he said, sifting a strand of her black hair behind her ear.

  Their eyes locked with is fingers hovering beside her face.

  “Go on,” he whispered. “Last one.”

  Chieko’s eyes glistened, and her lips parted. For a moment, he knew they were both holding their breath. “You’re so pretty when you smile.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “What is your hope for the future of this place?” she asked. It was their last voiceover question.

  Barth’s heart pounded in his chest, and the words of her question rolled over in his mind. His hope for the future of this place? He glanced around the lifeless room and back to Chieko’s creamy skin and shining black eyes. Then his gaze fell on her lips, the color of a dusty rose, and he knew he hoped for something impossible.

  He hoped she would let him bring color and life into her home.

  Chieko couldn’t tear her eyes away from Barth’s bright, soulful eyes. When had his silly swagger disappeared, and when had this wise, patient man slipped into Barth’s body? Why did it make him so much more attractive?

  Were they getting closer? Had she moved, or had he?

  She licked her lips as an invisible force pulled her closer to him.

  Rap rap rap.

  Chieko yelped and nearly toppled from her stool. “Someone’s at the door!” She cursed inwardly. No special delivery was worth the interruption of whatever might have just happened.

  She trudged across the carpet and yanked open the door. A strangled squeak escaped her before she regained her composure. The poster child for Japanese-American success stood before her in all his geeky glory.

  “Hello, Mr. Sato. What brings you by?”

  “Chieko! What a wonderful surprise.”

  Chieko stiffened, closing the door slightly. She knew all too well how this scrawny man liked to wriggle his way into her space. “You’re surprised to see me at my home?”

  “You are not often home when I stop by.”

  A shudder ran through her. Ten years her senior, Charles flirted as mercilessly as Barth. He wasn’t, however, as charming about it. More of a weasel than a puppy.

  “You stop by often?”

  “Every time I need to see sunshine on a rainy day. In Oregon that is quite often.”

  A snorting sound from behind alerted Chieko to Barth’s eavesdropping capacities. She didn’t want him thinking this intruder was anyone important in her life.

  With her professional anchor smile, she repeated, “What brings you by?”

  “I heard that your employment schedule had opened up, and I wondered if that meant you might have time for some recreation. Perhaps you could join me for—”

  “My father misinformed you,” said Chieko, pressing her lips into a thin line.

  “Your father?”

  “Your informant.”

  Charles laughed with obvious nervous strain. “Maybe you can clarify things for me. If I come in, we can figure a way to schedule around your working times.”

  Suddenly Barth was at her shoulder, filling the space behind her with his broad, strong presence.

  Chieko bit her lip and averted her eyes from Charles’ face, flushing darker.

  “Chieko, who is he?” demanded Charles.

  To her delight, Barth inched even closer, his chest pressing against her back deliciously. “I’m her co-worker. We’re in the middle of an important project right now.”

  Charles turned questioning eyes to Chieko, but she was too distracted by the pounding of her heart to answer.

  “I see. Should I come back later?”

  Chieko swallowed. “I don’t see why. I’ll be busy all week.”

  “But—”

  “And next.” She began to close the door. “Good-bye, Charles.”

  “Nice meeting you,” added Barth with bravado.

  Charles furrowed his brow. “We haven’t met. Who are you? Chieko, who is that—?”

  The door clicked shut, and Chieko leaned back against it. Barth reached up and turned the deadbolt lock. When he left his arm up, she shivered with anticipation. How funny to see puny Charles next to Barth. She looked up into his eyes, realizing how close he stood, but she didn’t feel trapped at all.

  “Who was that guy?” asked Barth.

  “Just a local millionaire who hangs out with my dad all the time.”

  “Does he stop by and bug you a lot?”

  “He is a bug.” Chieko didn’t want to talk about Charles. She wanted to study Barth’s curling eyelashes and the contours of his jaw.

  Barth’s voice lowered. “Should I have exterminated him?”

  Chieko giggled and watched with surprise as her hands moved to tug at Barth’s collar. “Not unless he knocks again.”

  “I’ll stay and make sure he doesn’t, if you want me to.”

  Chieko’s pulse surged. “I want you to.”

  Barth began second-guessing his idea to stay at Chieko’s to edit about twenty minutes later. He couldn’t keep himself from peeking over his shoulder to where she sat stretched out on the couch reading a book. At least half the times he glanced her way, she met his gaze with a shy smile.

  Even as his mind sharpened to splice scenes together and overlay the sound, another part of his brain went on the fritz. He couldn’t even think of a funny, flirty line to ease the tension.

  Tension?

  An invisible string tied him to the woman behind him, and it kept tugging tighter. Then the string became a rope, then a heavy cable.

  Finally, he spun on the stool and slapped his hands on his thighs. “Miss Chieko?”

  Her bright expectant expression threw a punch of pleasure at his gut.

  “Yeah?”

  “Um.” What could he say? “It’s kind of quiet in here. I guess I’m used to more noise.”

  “Want some music?” She shifted to sit upright, glancing at the Amazon Echo on her desk. “We can pull up a playlist.”

  That gave him a brain flash. “I know. We’ll probably want some background music for parts of the video, right? Think you could find stuff that would work?”

  “Don’t we have to worry about copyright stuff? We can’t put any music into the video without legal permission.”

  Barth slumped. “Right. I knew that. I did. Dang it.”

  Chieko stood up, dropping her book onto the couch. “We can still have something playing in the background for ambience if it helps you concentrate.”

  It wasn’t the lack of music that made it hard to concentrate. The shine on her sleek black hair, the luster of her ivory skin, and the growing warmth in her eyes messed him up like linemen out of place.

  In the past, she’d always been dressed in monochrome business outfits that gave her a professional but unapproachable air. Now, in casual clothes for the third day in a row, she seemed warmer, more inviting.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  Her question snapped his eyes back into focus.

  “Huh? Oh, I’m trying to figure out what to listen to. If it’s got words, it’ll probably make it harder for me to listen to the voiceover stuff.”

  “So, not rap?” she said with an exaggerated questioning look.

  “Nah, it would feel out of place here.”

  Chieko’s eyebrows arched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Are you telling me you listen to rap?”

  “No.”

  He shrugged. “Well, then. It’d be out of place, right?”

  “But how did you know?”

  Barth grinned and smoothed his palm over his scalp. “I think we’re heading into dangerous territory if
I start analyzing your music tastes. I figured you weren’t into anything too angry or too sexy.”

  She folded her arms and regarded him, speaking slowly. “I guess you’re right, but I’m not sure how I feel about you putting it in those words. Are you saying I don’t like sexy?”

  With wide eyes, Barth stood up. “Aw now, don’t go putting words in my mouth. You can be sexy, I guess. I don’t know. Can we pick some nice, safe music with no words? Something we can both stand?”

  Her coy smile gave him a rush like a completed pass.

  “Classical or jazz?” she asked.

  He returned her look, hoping he didn’t overplay it and come across clownish. “How about swing jazz?”

  “Are you going to make me dance?”

  His eyes skipped quickly over her trim frame, and he remembered the feel of her waist in his hands the one time they’d danced. “Aw, someday you’ll want to.”

  “Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. She gave the command, and the Echo started up an old Glenn Miller favorite.

  “In the Mood. It’s a classic if even I can name it.” He stifled a sigh and turned back to his laptop. “Thanks. I’ll try to work faster.”

  To his surprise, she came up behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and relished the ricochet of shivers it sent through his body. She’d touched him voluntarily. Almost intimately.

  “Can I watch you work?” The press of her hand warmed his whole back. “Maybe I should be learning how to do all this stuff anyway.”

  Barth’s heartrate ticked up into fat-burning mode. “Uh, sure. But maybe don’t hover behind me like a teacher grading me, you know?”

  Chieko smiled and slid onto the stool beside him, sitting close enough that their arms brushed for a second. “You’re the teacher, Barth. Show me how you do the magic.”

  He locked eyes with her. “Magic?” Yeah, magic. Like a ring of fire surrounding them. “Is it getting hot in here?” he asked with a dry mouth.

  With a snort, Chieko stood up and walked to the thermostat by the front door. “You are so high maintenance! Do you need me to feed you grapes one at a time while you work, too?”