So he did. And if his wheels spun out as he went, maybe that was just eagerness to get away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Showered and changed, Felicia drove back to the treehouse.
She’d felt like an asshole plenty of times. Living in LA got a person used to that. You were never going to merge into the next lane if you didn’t feel comfortable with your hand on the horn.
But damn it, she felt like a jerk.
Liam had labeled himself a golden retriever, but that wasn’t quite right. She thought of golden retrievers as eager but dumb, and Liam was smart as hell. The night before, he’d matched everything she’d thrown at him, both verbally and physically.
She’d fit in his arms. He’d felt so right. He’d lowered her mouth to the most intimate places on her body, but first he’d kissed her key.
And that fact made her as nervous as a nineteen-year-old PA on her first day on set.
She shouldn’t have sent the email to Natasha. It had been automatic. She hadn’t felt badly about sending it till it whooshed away from her phone.
She’d sat on the toilet seat in the middle of the night, her legs still aching, and she’d panicked. She’d held out her hands and watched them tremble.
With cold? With tension?
No, she’d been shaking with feelings that she didn’t want to flood her body. Feelings sucked. This proved it.
She typed it out on her phone. He’s scared of losing everyone. Neither of his parents wanted him, his foster father died, his fiancé left him.
She couldn’t tell Natasha this. It would be the betrayal he was scared of.
Yeah, and these feelings—the ones that told her to stand, to leap back onto the sofa and into his arms, the ones that said to wrap her arms around Liam for the next hundred years or so—that’s what she was most scared of.
They were both doing this for money. She needed to remember that. This was business.
This was her job.
So sitting in the bathroom in the middle of the night, Felicia had hit send.
If she’d been trying to be fair, she would have told Natasha what she’d said, too. But confessing to her boss that TV was not only Felicia’s job but also a substitute for Felicia’s family and her feelings?
She hadn’t been able to admit that to Natasha.
But Felicia would fix it. She’d lure Natasha with something bigger. Better. Maybe she’d admit to her boss that she and Liam had hooked up off camera. Then Natasha would work so hard to get them to repeat the night on-camera (tasteful night-vision camera, a closed door at the last moment) that she’d forget the email. Worst case scenario, Felicia would tell Liam what she’d told Natasha—tell him that Natasha couldn’t make use of any part of it without him agreeing to it. She would explain.
The rental lurched over a pothole in the driveway that was getting bigger by the day. She parked under the biggest oak tree, near the canteen truck.
The set—because that’s what it was, after all, it wouldn’t be her house until she spent a night in her bed with no cameras around—was a mad scramble already. There were two new trucks loaded with heavy equipment that hadn’t been there the day before. Four guys were unloading supplies onto a dolly. The canteen had already been set up to the right of the house. Everything looked so festive that the house could have been the site of a wedding about to take place, some happy celebration that would bring friends and family back to town.
Instead, it was a television show. A program that would matter to the people who watched it until they flipped off the television and went to bed. She was the one this mattered to the most. As a producer, she was used to that feeling, but it was multiplied by ten now. This would be her home. For whatever reason, this was where she wanted to spread her roots into the soil.
If she let herself feel it, she would be terrified.
So naturally, she cut the feeling right off like she was silencing her phone. She could almost feel the switch flipping in her mind.
Work. She was at work.
A man strode toward her. He was tall and rangy, with bright blue eyes. He wore a gray T-shirt that might have once been black, and a tool belt dropped low on his hips. Timbo walked next to him.
She stepped forward and shook his hand. “I’m Felicia Turbinado, and you’re Aidan Ballard. Nice to see you in person, and not on Skype.”
“Good to meet you. My brother said to tell you he’ll be a little late, but I brought Timbo here with me.”
Felicia stuck out her hand, but the boy surprised her, going in for a hug. He smelled like soap and something salty, maybe potato chips?
“I can’t wait. I couldn’t even sleep last night at the overnighter. I told all the guys, and they’re super jealous, and I was just wondering if maybe I would be onscreen at all? Because I don’t even think they believe what I’m doing today. But if they saw me on TV, maybe then they would.”
“Well, I can tell you this. I’m going to assign you to work with Anna. She runs a camera, and if she thinks it’s a good idea that you’re on screen, then it might happen. But that’s only if you do everything she says.”
“Where is she?”
Felicia pointed to where Anna was setting up a door shot. “Go introduce yourself.”
He was off like a shot, Aidan smiling after him. “He’s a good kid. I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. Every kid deserves one, and him more than most.”
A chance.
Maybe she should give Liam one, too.
Nervousness flapped in her chest. “Okay, then! Hopefully you’re better in front of the camera than your brother was, and hopefully I’m a little more relaxed today, too. We have a lot of work to do.”
The next three hours flew by, as they shot and reshot interior scenes. Aidan proved a natural, his thumbs tucked into his toolbelt as he jaw-jacked with the crew, ready with a quick and friendly laugh. Felicia couldn’t know for sure until she met Jake in person, but she had a feeling Aidan would be the biggest draw of the show.
That made it all the better that she was going on the date with Liam and not Aidan. Women would fall for the construction guy and tune into the next episode that much more eagerly.
Excellent. All for the network.
While they reshot a room walk-through, Felicia found herself reaching for the key around her neck. It wasn’t there—she must have left it at the Cat’s Meow.
Pull it together.
This was work.
Luckily, Felicia and Aidan agreed on almost everything. He thought the rusted-through clawfoot tub had to go, but he knew about a new kind of spa tub that would fit in the same place and still look vintage. Upstairs, he was going to make half the great room into the bedroom of her dreams, and split the rest of the space into two offices. Each room’s focus would be the redwood, and the way it grew up and out.
Aidan looked up at the canvas-covered space between the tree and the great outdoors. “That’s been keeping out leaks just fine, but I’m thinking we can widen the hole in the ceiling and make it into a skylight, so you’ll get a better visual upward.”
“Yeah!” Timbo’s voice trumpeted through the great room. “So you can see right up to the top treehouse!” Production had loaned Timbo a spare handheld camera, just for fun and the outside chance of possible extra footage, and he was eagerly zooming in and out on everything that caught his eye.
Felicia nodded. “I love that idea. In the bedroom, you mean?”
“We can carry the skylight through into both offices, too.” Aidan didn’t even glance at the camera Tony had trained on him. He was going to be great.
“But I only need one office, don’t I?”
Aidan tapped on a wall with a heavy hand. He listened for something she couldn’t hear. “One full office. One secondary office with just a small desk, and a spare bed for guests. That’ll be for the nursery, too.”
Felicia dropped the measuring tape she’d been holding for him, and it clattered on the wood floor. “The what?”
&nbs
p; Both Tony’s and Timbo’s cameras panned to focus on Felicia’s face.
“The nursery. You eventually want a kid or two, right?”
“That’s nothing I’m thinking of right now.”
“It’s my job to think of the eventualities, your job to tell me what style you want.”
Felicia took two quick, deep breaths. “Exactly what we saw downstairs. Old-fashioned, turn-of-the-century, and quaint.”
“Quaint but modern,” Aidan corrected her.
“That.”
“Just one baby, then.”
Felicia squeaked loudly. Embarrassingly. Always professional.
Everyone laughed.
So she pretended her phone was vibrating with a call, and she raced from the room, her steps as fast as her racing heart.
#
As they wrapped the set for the day, Felicia got better at juggling her producer and client hats. She made sure they got a clip of her asking how long the work would take.
Aidan said, “A couple of weeks. Maybe three.”
Felicia feigned surprise. “That fast?”
He leaned against a door jam. “We’re a full-service crew and I hired extra guys to work fast. This’ll be easy. We’re only pulling out the one wall, and all your electricity and plumbing is in pretty good shape for a house this old. We’ll paint and refinish the floors. The bathroom will take the longest, but barring dry rot, we’ll be good. Now I guess all you have to do is pick a brother.”
Felicia hadn’t even written that line for him. He really was a natural. She felt stilted and awkward next to him. “For the date? I guess…I’ll choose Liam.”
“What about Jake? You haven’t even met him yet, have you?”
Felicia shook her head. She felt her cheeks color. Aidan was driving this, not her. But that was okay, the Ballard Brothers were the draw, after all. “Jake’s the sailor, right? I don’t like boats much.”
Aidan gave a nod. “Yep. Then you are all the way out of his running, I’m sorry to tell you. He’ll be here on the crew tomorrow, and I’ll make sure I tell him not to invite you to his Fourth of July party on the water. And what, I’m just out of the running, too?”
“Sorry, but I…” I spent the night in your brother’s arms, and I might never recover. “I like a man good with numbers.”
And good with his hands.
And his mouth.
And his words.
Oh, lord. She was in so much trouble.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Liam spent the day in the office, licking his wounds. Okay, just one wound. But it was a big one, and it hurt.
It was fine—he had plenty of work to do. The show was generating crazy amounts of paperwork. He probably didn’t need to go over every single line-item the way he was, but it was giving him something to do. He had to make sure they sneaked in no more sex clauses, after all.
Had Felicia really thought that? That he’d slept with her for a potential bonus?
Yeah. That was some bullshit.
Liam took a break at one and delivered a crapload of sandwiches to the boys playing hoops at the school.
“Where’s Timbo?”
“No, really? Tell us the truth!”
“He said he’s gonna be on TV!”
“He said he’s gonna be famous!”
Liam tossed sandwiches at the boys as if they were starving lions. Four bites each, and every sandwich was gone. “He might be on TV, probably won’t be famous, at least not yet.”
“Are you gonna be famous?”
Liam shook his head.
“He’s lying. Timbo said it was going to be the biggest new show ever.”
“Guys! It’s not a big deal.”
He didn’t even believe it himself.
Liam left the extra sandwiches (only two, both bologna and mustard) for later, and went back to the office for a few more hours.
At four, he drove to the treehouse to pick up Timbo. Liam’s chest was tight as he pulled up the driveway.
He didn’t want to see Felicia.
And he wanted nothing else in his whole damn life.
Today the house really looked like a movie set. It was mobbed, full of people he’d never seen before running in all directions. Aidan had handled today’s shooting with Felicia—it was all about the remodel, and Liam hadn’t been needed. Honestly, he hadn’t felt like being there.
Now he wondered if he should have been.
Aidan was a little bit taller than Liam or Jake. He had the brightest blue eyes of all of them. He swaggered just that much more.
Liam had never been jealous of Aidan in his life, had never begrudged him one single female conquest.
But god help him if his brother tried to muscle in on Felicia.
Timbo came out the small front door. His face lit up when he saw Liam. “Hey! They totally let me hold the camera.”
“Yeah? You ready to go?”
As Timbo walked next to Liam on the way to the car, he practically levitated. “Did you hear me? They let me film some stuff!”
“I heard you. That’s cool.”
“It was. You don’t know what footage—that’s what they call it—they’re gonna use until they’re editing it, and that doesn’t happen here, well, I mean they have a little editing studio, but that’s not where they do the big work. That’s in LA. And Anna said that if I go see her the next time I’m in town, she’ll give me a tour of the studio, and she said that I’ll see at least a couple of movie stars, if not more.” He bounced his way to the car.
His phone pinged with a text. I’m sorry about saying that about the bonus. I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to. Sometimes I forget the Hollywood way isn’t normal. Again, sorry.
A rubber band of tightness eased in his chest. Liam looked over his shoulder at the house. “Did you see Felicia today? Is she still here?”
“Duh. She and Uncle Aidan made all sorts of decisions about where to put things like beds and shit.”
“Language.” He didn’t really care, though. All boys swore. “Did they get along?”
They got in the car, and Liam let Timbo fiddle with the stereo until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Did you hear me?”
“What?”
“Did Felicia and Uncle Aidan get along? Is she still here somewhere?”
“They got along just fine, I think, but like I said, I was running the camera, so I was pretty busy. He made her laugh a lot.”
“He did?” The stereo blared, and his head started hurting.
“Yeah, I think they were going to go and get something to eat.”
“Oh.” Liam started the car and then backed it carefully around a UPS van that had just raced up the driveway.
“Oh, my god, you should see your face right now.” Timbo bent forward with laughter.
“Excuse me?”
“Uncle Aidan gave me five bucks to say that to you. He told me it would be worth it even if you got mad. And he was right! They didn’t go out to eat. Felicia said she had work to do tonight, but she said she was looking forward to seeing you tomorrow for your date.” Timbo made his voice girlish on the last two words, and Liam could practically see the SnapChat hearts floating above the word date.
“You suck.”
“Language!”
“Suck isn’t a bad word.”
Timbo shot him a surprisingly wry look with one eyebrow lifted. “I was referring to the word you didn’t say between you and suck.”
“What do I always tell you?”
“You can’t get in trouble if you don’t say it.”
“That’s it.” Felicia was looking forward to the date. Liam’s heart was suddenly so light it was a good thing he didn’t drive a convertible. He held out his hand for a high five, and Timbo slapped it so hard he knew he’d feel the tingle for the next five minutes.
And when Timbo turned the music up to eleven, Liam didn’t turn it down. Let the kid be happy. It felt good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The next day, Natash
a called while Felicia was finishing getting ready for The Date. She’d put it capitals in her mind, and they’d stayed there.
The Date.
On camera.
“So what are you two doing?” Natasha’s voice was quick, clipped. She was calling to make sure whatever they did would look good on film, no matter what. She’d been horrified to find out they were going to stay in Darling Bay. “Bowling? I’m picturing you in a yellowed button-down shirt that says Buster on the pocket.”
Felicia sighed. Oh, man, this was going to suck. Liam hadn’t even found her on set when he’d picked up Timbo the day before, and he’d stayed away all day today, too. He was probably still furious. The Date had been set up on email. I’ll pick you in front of The Cat’s Meow at six.
The email had felt perfunctory. Romance didn’t enter into it.
Felicia tried to smooth her hair with one hand while holding the phone with her other. “I don’t know. He’s making it a surprise.”
“Well, don’t blow it.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not like this is a normal date for you. And I take it back, you’re allowed to blow it only if you do it spectacularly. Do you think you can cry on cue?”
“Oh, my god.” Felicia rummaged in her bag for her necklace, but she must have dropped it at the house after she’d slept with Liam. She’d find it later, though she wanted it now. “It’s not like this would be a normal date for anyone, including you. If this show flies, this particular date will be witnessed by millions.” Her stomach churned at the thought, and she was glad she’d only had a light lunch.
“Don’t be nervous, and of course the show will fly. You forget who I am. Now, you should laugh, but not too much. And don’t forget to mention his brothers, since they’ll be the reason people tune back in.”
For a brief moment, Felicia felt like crying. This already meant too much, and it was nothing but a forty-eight minute segment of a series she’d have to continue to produce. With Liam and his brothers. The pressure was too great. If only she hadn’t sent the pictures of the treehouse to Natasha, if only Natasha hadn’t picked it as the one. Then Felicia would have been able to buy the house quietly with no fanfare, and none of the rest of this would be happening.
On the Market (The Ballard Brothers of Darling Bay Book 1) Page 13
