But every shot of the exteriors played up the classic beauty Clay had created. Keegan and the team had great material to work with, no doubt about that. Every roofline, every curve reached out and touched his senses. He’d ached with envy the last two days. He, too, could be designing buildings admired by others. All he had to do was say yes and fly back to Wisconsin.
Every time he was on camera the last few days, he was reminded of what he had now and would be leaving. As host, he described each edifice as only a professional architect could. He knew when to use the big words and when a more conventional phrase would do. When to present a little-known factoid that would enhance the viewer’s understanding of a particular feature, or when to simply wax poetic.
“Keegan?” Ainsley stared at him, head tilted.
“How was the spa?”
“Absolutely great.” She rubbed her arms with soporific pleasure. “Even though the staff was booked to their elbows with convention attendees, they worked me in and gave me the deluxe treatment.”
She continued to study him as if there was more she wanted to say but wasn’t. “The restaurant sent over a light supper. You probably want to get in there if you’re the least bit hungry because the guys are wolfing it down like they haven’t eaten in weeks.”
Bo and Tony had vacated the pool. He hadn’t noticed. How long had he been deliberating his future? “Okay. I’m coming.”
Ainsley still didn’t leave. “Just so you know, this episode is one of your best. I haven’t even seen the finished product and I can tell.”
He shrugged. “Piece of cake.”
“Ri-ight. I won’t probe, but if I can help…”
“Thanks. You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it.” She swiveled to go back inside. “Ainsley? I’ve got a question for you.”
Returning, she raised a brow. “Yes?”
“Tell me in twenty-five words or less why this show has done so well.”
Though she narrowed her eyes, Ainsley attempted a response. “We take fantasy, the world’s best hideaways and an incredibly handsome guy and make them real to the viewer.” She stopped, angled her head. “That’s less than twenty-five. Was that a test? You already knew the answer.”
“I wanted someone else’s take.” He left it at that.
A few beats passed with neither speaking. “That it?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Once she departed, he considered her words. The “fantasy” and “world’s best hideaways” parts could go on without him. If he could get past his ego, so could the “incredibly handsome guy” part. In fact, his exit might be exactly what the production company needed. They could bring on a fresh face and pay him—or her—less. How many more seasons would they be willing to increase Keegan’s pay? How much longer could the show last…period?
Over the past few years he’d put away a tidy nest egg, anticipating the day this golden goose of a show ended. He could afford to walk away from all this glitz. But did he want to? Was he ready?
As much as he liked the money and enjoyed the incredible perks, if he were honest with himself, what he liked most was the attention he received both from his fans and his hosts. His prior life had been okay. Good friends, a comfortable home, the best schools. But his parents’ focus had always been split between him and his dad’s political career.
Drew had filled that void. Was that why he’d never gotten in touch with her after that first time he’d tried to see her? She’d been his rock, his home base. Once she was no longer in the picture, it was just him again. Yeah, he had his firm. But even though he got along well with Brian, he felt empty. When the call came from the production company offering an audition for the show, he jumped at the chance.
He probably had another few years in this gig. There were still plenty of luxurious hideaways out there waiting for him and the team to chronicle their splendors. At some point, though, one place would seem the same as the others. Had he reached that destination?
The growling of his stomach ended further speculation. Better get some of that grub before crumbs were all that remained.
“Drew’s in with her father, eating with him,” Ainsley said, apparently catching his eyes searching the room.
He made a show of clasping his hands. “Then I call dibs on the rest of this chow.”
****
“Thanks for coming up to the house to interview me,” Clay said an hour later, after the team had made their way north to the Walkers’ private hacienda. “Our guests are out for dinner, and I haven’t seen our son all day, so this place and time works best for me.”
“Glad you suggested it. I didn’t ask to shoot here because I knew you liked to keep your home life private from the rest of the resort. Now I see why.” Keegan did a three-sixty of the great room. “This is an incredible blend of all the style and beauty of the rest of place with the personal touch of a home…like those family pictures over there.” He stooped to pick up a toy truck. “And the evidence of a young child in residence.”
Clay swung over and retrieved the truck from Keegan. “Sorry. Lacey and I did a fast sweep of the room before you arrived, but we must have missed this. We haven’t quite trained Elijah to put away his things yet.” He chuckled. “Maybe by the time he’s eighteen.”
“You mind if we keep the toy in the shot? It’s a great way to establish immediately this is a real home.”
Clay shrugged. “Sure. You’re the expert. After observing you the last few days, I’m impressed. Who’d have thought back in school there was a personality behind those designs?”
Keegan kept his reply noncommittal. “It’s been fun. A great way to see the world.”
“Better than creating buildings?”
The kind of loaded question Keegan didn’t feel like answering at the moment. “I still design, but just on a part-time basis. My partner handles the bulk of our firm’s business.”
Clay nodded, his light-colored mane and earring swinging. “Good to hear. You were damn good at it. Hate to see all that talent absorbed by this TV glamour.” He paused, glanced around the room. “Where do you want me for this interview?”
Keegan conferred with Ainsley, who’d been examining the “wardrobe” Lacey had laid out for her husband: a sports jacket and a change of shirts. “On that comfy sofa will be great.”
Once Clay was seated, Ainsley held a rust-colored shirt in front of him but shook her head. “You look fine to me in that baby blue top. It goes well with your hair and eyes.”
“The wife wanted to make sure I looked good on camera.”
Keegan clamped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to my world, friend.” He switched back to his cameraman. “Bo, can we get some of those family photos in the background?”
“Sure can,” Bo replied. With Clay’s blessing, he moved several frames onto a parson’s table behind the sofa.
“Emma sends her apologies,” Clay said. “She wanted to sit in on this, but she’s tied up getting materials ready for the convention.”
“No problem. In fact, you’ll be more spontaneous without her. Let’s get going.”
It took another fifteen precious minutes to complete the setup for each member of the team. Keegan’s role was to help Clay relax, feel “at home” in his own home, and essentially sheath him in good feelings. So Keegan conducted what he thought of as an “intro-view,” preliminary questions to loosen up their subject.
“Tell me about the architectural styles you used for Casa Blanca.”
Clay eyed Keegan like he’d lost a few gray cells. “Oh, I get it. This is warm-up. Morocco.”
“Huh?” Was Clay trying to throw him?
“This place, Casa Blanca, White House, literally, was named for Lacey and my favorite movie, which is set in Morocco. I figured, why not build on that? Plus, it was unique from most of the architecture you see around this area.”
Keegan could only shake his head. “You’re a natural at this, pal. I wouldn’t change a word of what you said when the question comes
up in the real interview. We’ll start with that after a brief intro.”
They hit briefly on why Lacey and Clay had built this resort—to replace the home Lacey lost following a major hurricane a few years prior. “She wanted to build a B and B,” Clay said. “Then I showed up and convinced her to dream bigger.”
“You mind if I did deeper on that comment? It’s perfect for establishing the romance and hominess that underlie the sumptuousness of this place.”
Clay narrowed his eyes. “You can ask, but are you going to add that last part?”
“Too over-the-top?”
Clay scratched his chin. “For me, anyhow.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” But he would use it. At least the part about romance and home. Too good for establishing the mood to forfeit. The “sumptuousness” part probably was a little too much.
“Just be sure to add the resort’s slogan: kick off your shoes and fall in love. Both Lacey and Emma will come after you, and not in a good way, if you forget.” He was kidding and at the same time serious.
During the interview, when Keegan asked his question about the architectural style, Clay was so relaxed he not only repeated what he said earlier, he had fun with it, adding a few elements they hadn’t rehearsed. “I met my wife when I showed up on that beach over there and pitched myself as her architect.” He waited a few beats. “Didn’t hurt, I guess, that I was without my shirt.” He actually wiggled his brows at the camera. Besides being a natural at this, the guy was also a ham. Who knew?
The rest of the interview continued in that vein, light but informative, Clay not exactly taking over but certainly in it for all he was worth. They hardly had to stop for retakes; it was that smooth. And fun.
If all their shoots could go like this, Keegan could continue hosting forever. Well, not that long, but today’s experience actually made him want to stick with it.
“Da-da?” A red-haired youngster waddled over to Clay. Lacey remained behind on the sidelines.
Clay opened his arms and the little guy ran into them. Clay swooped him up and crushed him to his chest. “How’ya doin’, my little man?”
“Mama said I could be on TV, too, if I took my nap okay.”
“Which he did.” The lovely strawberry blonde Lacey joined her two boys.
Clay introduced his wife and son, Elijah, to Keegan and the team. “Okay if this little guy sits in for a bit?” Keegan nodded.
Lacey turned to her son. “This nice man,” she indicated Keegan, “is going to talk to you and Daddy, Elijah, in front of the TV camera. Tell them what we practiced.”
The little boy returned the most beatific smile Keegan had seen since Ainsley pushed for her last raise. “Yes, Mommy.” He reached for the microphone. “I hold.”
“Actually, that’s my job, young man. But you get to talk to it. How’s that?”
“Sooper. Dooper.”
That about summed it up.
Like his father, the younger Walker was also a “natural” in front of the camera. “Well. Come. Cass Bank.” The greeting emerged before Keegan could get out his first question.
The rest of the “interview” consisted of a few more questions framed specifically for a young child. This was priceless stuff. Of course, they’d have to obtain the Walkers’ written permission to include any of it in the actual episode, but it would add a different perspective to the episode. In fact, this shoot suggested a new direction for the show as well. If they could locate the architects who designed the places they filmed—which wouldn’t be easy, since very few architects designed their own resorts or were available years after their part in the construction had been completed—but say it was possible, they could augment their standard format with a whole new twist.
Keegan’s blood flowed faster as he contemplated these potential changes. At the same time, he couldn’t help but smile at the warm father and son scene. That could have been him if he and Drew…never mind, water under the causeway that led to Mimosa Key.
As the team collected their equipment, Clay shook Keegan’s hand. “Thanks for postponing your departure so we could do this interview. Lacey tells me you’ve moved in with the Honeywells for the night.” He leaned closer. “Take advantage of your unexpected reunion with Drew. I shouldn’t have to be the only family man in our class.”
That was one contented guy, Keegan thought as he made his way back to the Honeywell villa. Could that be him as well?
Chapter Eighteen
While their “guests” were wrapping the shoot with Clay Walker, Drew considered her day. The letter from Harvey Powell to Jason Mortimer continued to intrigue her. There was more to it than plans for a garden. Much more. She had to figure out what.
Nor could she forget her experience dealing with Mrs. Farrell. She was delighted to have calmed the anxious woman with the shawl. More than that, though, a tiny ember of hope about her future in fashion design had kindled somewhere inside her.
Finally, there was Keegan. After the last few miserable years investing her time and emotions in her parents, fate had brought him back to her on this island. Could she let him leave tomorrow without telling him her true feelings? Even if he didn’t feel the same?
She’d confessed the night before to not feeling worthy of him. Their time in bed and then the events of the day had kept her from contemplating what that meant. But now there was time. Why didn’t she feel worthy?
As she considered the question, she realized her lack of self-worth wasn’t just where Keegan was concerned. She’d quit her job at the fashion house because she hadn’t fought back when they removed her name from the credits for the spring showing. Kerry had insisted they didn’t need a formal partnership agreement, and Drew had gone along with her, despite Drew’s misgivings. She’d even become her mother’s caretaker rather than return to work because she didn’t want to face her co-workers.
But why? Something had made her this way.
The arrival of Tony and Bo cut off further conjecture. “Finished?” she asked.
“We still have to work our magic on the audio and video parts, but yes, as far as this shoot is concerned, it’s a wrap,” Tony said. “As much as I want to get home to the wife, I’ve enjoyed this junket. More than others.”
Bo deposited his equipment in a corner and joined them. “I’ve been feeling the same way.”
“For one thing,” Tony said, “we got to spend time with you and Burgess. You’re a class act, Drew. I don’t think you realize that.”
A ripple of unexpected pleasure shot through her. Funny how he should make that comment just after she’d been thinking the opposite. “Th-thank you. No one’s ever told me that.”
“Not even Keegan?”
She flinched at Bo’s question.
“Sorry. Too intrusive. I’m always going too far.”
She tried to explain. “Keegan and I…” She didn’t finish, probably just as well, because Keegan and Ainsley entered into the room.
Bo hustled off to grab Ainsley’s bags, apparently sensing the discomfort he’d caused Drew and offering a diversion. “We were just telling Drew this shoot seems different than the rest. More than for once getting to stay on the property with you and take advantage of the amenities. Even more than meeting her and her dad, as much as we’ve enjoyed their company.”
Ainsley angled her head, seemingly considering Bo’s comment. “I’d have to agree. It’s been more like a vacation than work. That how you feel, Keegan?”
Keegan kept his head down as he arranged and rearranged his bags. He didn’t reply.
Ainsley repeated her question. “Keegan?”
He straightened, though he still didn’t face them. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“That’s it?” Ainsley asked. “You’re the one with the words. Why so brief now?”
Uh-oh. Keegan was still lost in his own thoughts.
But he surprised her by pivoting and facing the rest of the team. “We’ve visited our fair share of fabulous places around the world, but this one
is the real deal. Opulent, yes, but they’re not rubbing your nose in it. Everything’s about you, the guest. That what you’re all feeling?”
A smile bloomed on Ainsley’s face. “That’s it! Quite poetic too. You should insert something like that in the voiceover you do for the intro.”
The four of them froze into a tableau of shared feelings. Drew felt like a stranger in her own villa. She gave them a few seconds to savor the moment, then slipped off to the kitchen and held up a tray. “Hope you’re all hungry. They sent us celebratory champagne, strawberries, caviar and several more snacks. The Walkers really appreciated you remaining late to interview Clay.”
Joining her, Ainsley held up a champagne flute. “This is for you too. We couldn’t have remained tonight without your hospitality.”
Bo and Tony joined the two women in a flash. Bo examined the caviar on ice. “Would you look at this spread? Better than a prisoner’s last meal.”
“Ooh. Do you have to be so negative?” Ainsley replied. “This is more like a king’s banquet. Let’s enjoy it before we return to everyday life tomorrow.”
While Ainsley, Tony and Bo gobbled expensive chocolates, Drew edged over to Keegan. “What everyday life awaits you?”
He busied himself zipping zippers, buckling buckles. Was her presence still that uncomfortable? She hated herself for having hurt this man so much he was now ill at ease around her. She was about to return to the kitchen festivities when he placed a hand on her arm. “Wait. What did you ask? My mind was…elsewhere.”
“Not important. I was just wondering where you’d be heading after this.”
“My flight’s booked for LA. I have a condo there. They won’t need me for editing for a few days. That’ll give me time to think.”
She should let it go at that, but she couldn’t. “Think about what?”
He glanced over to the trio chowing down in the kitchen. “Just between us?”
“Okay.” Her heart beat faster. Was this about the two of them? Would he finally tell her what had been troubling him all day?
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