A girl.
She had long dirty brown hair that tangled past her shoulders. She was thin, dressed in a blue dress and black tights. Even from this distance, Tuesday could tell the girl had huge eyes that were currently scanning the yard as if she were looking for something specific.
Tuesday glanced at the camera crew, wondering if anyone else was noticing the apparition. If the girl hadn’t been wearing gigantic orange tennis shoes, she would have wondered if she were a garden sprite, or a wraith only visible in her own imagination.
The girl caught sight of Tuesday.
When she saw that Tuesday had noticed her, she jumped like a startled rabbit and pulled the gate shut silently. She was gone.
Tuesday turned back to the conversation which had gone on swirling around her. “Who lives next door?”
Felicia looked up from her clipboard distractedly. “Mr. Hildeboom. He doesn’t get out much, but he’s a good nosy neighbor. He’s already called the cops on us twice, thinking we were breaking in.”
“No.” Tuesday pointed. “Down there.”
“Huh. I don’t know. Anna, did you get releases from that neighbor?”
Anna tugged back her headset so the earphone came off her ear. “Yeah. Um. Woman and daughter.” She put the headset back on and said something into it.
Felicia shrugged. “Sorry I don’t know more.”
It was okay. It was a little early to try to get chummy with anyone.
From behind her, Aidan said, “That’s Ella.”
Tuesday turned. “Who is she?”
“Well, for her age, she’s a good power forward.”
Tuesday raised her eyebrows.
“I coach basketball.” He sounded grudging, like he hated even telling her that much.
“Ahh.”
Felicia was back. “Okay, we need you over here now, Tuesday. Time to answer some questions.
It was so managed.
So prescribed.
She’d known a lot of reality TV was staged, sure, but she’d never taken the time to imagine how many other people were involved. For every person on the porch—her, Felicia, the three brothers—there were another two people. Each of them had their own camera- and sound-person. Below their feet, the porch groaned.
“Is this safe?” Tuesday couldn’t help asking it. “Would it be better to film in the garden?”
It was as if no one heard her. They all kept testing, chattering about things that didn’t make sense to her.
Okay, almost no one.
Aidan, that sour look still on his face, said, “Stand where the nails are. There are beams below those. Or there should be.”
His words were probably meant to be reassuring, but the way he barked it made Tuesday’s stomach flip with anxiousness.
“Nah, it’s fine,” said Liam. “I’ve been walking all over it for the last two weeks.”
“Okay.” Good. She moved to stand on the edge of the porch and leaned over the rail. The air smelled amazing—there was something sharp in it, maybe pine, and something crisp, like the leading edge of rain. Clouds amassed in the sky over the water, and the air was heavy with moisture. She’d thought California was the desert and palm trees and cactus, but this wasn’t dry—this was verdant. She smelled ozone and salt, and the grin that had landed on her face when she’d first seen the house crept back.
Behind her, Felicia said, “So Tuesday, what do you think of it out here?”
Tuesday turned and smiled, somehow surprised by the camera lens that was focused on her. It made her shy again. “It’s gorgeous. I love this porch.” She stamped her foot lightly. “I love how it’s a little shaky. A little old.”
“A lot old,” said Aidan grumpily. He shoved a lock of dark brown hair out of his blue eyes. Handsome, yes. But pricklier than the cactus she’d been expecting.
She didn’t care, though. Under her foot, the porch boards groaned. “Hear that? That’s the sound of a house coming back to life. How long was it empty, again?”
“Might want to stand on some nails.” Aidan pointed.
“Seven years,” said Liam.
She didn’t need to stand on nails. This house already loved her back. “It’ll hold me, she said. “I can feel it.”
The timber creaked happily.
Then it complained even louder as her foot went through the wood.
Chapter 3
B
efore Tuesday really understood what was happening, Aidan lurched forward, putting his hands to her waist, gripping her almost painfully.
“What the hell?” All she knew was that she was falling sideways. Was this what an earthquake felt like? She was thrown off-balance, or she would have been, had Aidan not effectively moved her two steps backward. He jumped sideways to avoid going through the porch, too, releasing her waist as he did so.
“Oh.” Tuesday smoothed down her black shirt. To avoid falling over when he’d grabbed her, she’d instinctively grasped his upper arm. The muscles in it had been roped. Knotted. She tried to find her breath. “Oh.”
“You’re welcome.” Aidan’s voice was a tiny bit less gruff. “You okay?”
“Fine.” The hole her foot had punched in the porch was at least six inches wide. “I guess you were right about where to stand.” He was the one who smelled amazing, not the air. The scent of pine was coming from him, as if he’d bathed in wood chips. For a disconcerting second, she wanted to bury her face in the front of his soft, blue shirt.
“Did you get that on camera?” Felicia asked a camera person.
Tuesday shook her head hard. “God, I hope not. I must have looked ridiculous.”
Aidan nodded. “We both did.”
Felicia smiled. “America loves ridiculous. Makes them feel at home.”
Well, America was going to feel very at home, then, because Tuesday was currently feeling preposterous.
“More importantly,” Felicia continued, “Are you okay?”
Tuesday nodded. “I’m fine.”
Felicia snapped her fingers and got the hole covered with a board by a guy wearing a network TV shirt. Tuesday felt more embarrassed than ever, her cheeks painfully flushed. She’d gone through the porch.
Felicia didn’t seem to mind, though. She pointed. “Okay, we’re ready to roll. Tuesday, I’ll place you right here, yes, that’s perfect. Ballard brothers, line up there, along the rail. Good.”
Tuesday wondered desperately what her face was doing. She pulled her shoulder blades toward each other and felt the scar on her stomach stretch.
“Not so much sticking out of the boobs, okay?” Felicia made a fluttery gesture in front of her chest.
Blushing harder, Tuesday glanced at Aidan.
Yeah, his eyes were right there. On the breasts she’d been thrusting in an attempt to gain a half inch of height.
“Sorry.” She shrunk into herself again. “Sorry.”
“No worries at all. Okay, we’ll do this as many times as it takes, and it’s no big deal if we all flub up. No stress here. And…we’re rolling.”
No stress, we’re rolling. Those two things did not go together.
“Tuesday!” Felicia’s voice was suddenly so bright it sparkled like the blue water of the bay below. “Now that you’ve chosen your house, the only other thing left to choose is the Ballard brother you’ll date while they’re renovating your house. Do you have any thoughts about the men so far?”
Tuesday’s heart raced. She looked at Liam, who’d been so kind to her throughout the whole emailing of the last six weeks. But he was paired off with Felicia, from the very first episode.
“Yeah, he’s off limits, I’m afraid.” Felicia grinned, and it appeared to be real, reaching her eyes. “Liam’s no longer on the market. But these other two fine Ballard specimens are. Aidan, head honcho of the Ballard construction crew.”
Aidan rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and leaned against the door frame.
“And seafaring Jake, jack of all trades, master of quite a few of the same.”
Jake smiled cheerfully. “Hey, Tuesday.”
Not Liam.
Not Aidan.
It was easy. “I’ll date Jake.”
Jake stuck an elbow into Aidan’s side, earning him a glare.
“Great! Can you tell us why?”
“Well.” Tuesday hesitated. “I guess I’m just going by how they look.”
Felicia grinned. “Tell us more. Be honest.”
Honesty? Okay, then. She was good at that. “Jake is smiling.” As she said it, Jake’s smile got bigger. “He looks sweet and nice. When he met me for the first time this morning, he gave me a hug. He looks like he’d be kind to puppies and help old ladies across streets.”
Aidan snorted and rolled his eyes again.
Tuesday continued, “And Aidan there kind of looks like an angry horse.”
“Excuse me?” Aidan straightened.
Adrenaline shot through Tuesday’s fingertips. “Well, no. If you were blowing steam through your nose, you’d actually look more like an angry bull in cartoons.”
Jake hooted. “Oh, yeah. Paw the ground, Aidan.”
Aidan glared. “Are we done here?”
“What the hell is your problem?” Tuesday couldn’t stop the words, nor did she want to. No matter how she looked when it was played back, no matter how rounded her shoulders or boring her expression was, she didn’t want to be someone she wasn’t.
“What the hell is yours?”
“I’m not the one acting like a bully here.”
“A bully?”
A shiver scampered down Tuesday’s spine but she held her ground. “Yep.”
“You’re the bully here.”
“What?”
“You come into town and—”
“I was invited.” By the network, true, but it had still been an invitation.
“Okay, back it up further, then. You apply to be on this show—”
“My mom applied for me.”
Aidan appeared to be about to say something else, but he stopped. He wore a button-down denim shirt and dark blue jeans. A tool belt was strapped around his waist, and it looked like it had been right there, on those hips, for years. His jaw was sturdy, and he had a tiny cleft in his chin, something neither of his two brothers had.
Tuesday would think he was the hottest Ballard Brother if he wasn’t such a gigantic dick.
“Your mom,” he finally said.
She tilted her head. “Would you like to say something about my mother?”
Jake shook his head and muttered, “Don’t do it, dude.”
Aidan didn’t listen to his little brother, apparently. “Your mommy applied you for the show?”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “She heard about it before I did.” True, her mother had told her several times about the show, urging her to apply, and Tuesday had ignored her.
“Let me guess. You lived near her?”
She raised her chin. “Down the street.” This would be the first time she’d ever been farther from her parents than when she’d been in college in Minneapolis, ten years before.
“So what you’re saying is that she was trying to get rid of you?”
Tuesday sucked in a breath. It wasn’t true.
Of course, it was what she’d thought at first.
Are you trying to get me out of here? To leave the state and you and Dad? Tuesday had been teasing, but there had been a small, serious part of herself, too.
Her mother had shaken her head. You’ve wanted to live in California as long as you’ve known where it was.
Palm trees. Sun, year round. Avocados. Surfers.
But I wasn’t really serious.
Her mother’s eyes had been, though. The twins will be in your class next year. Are you ready for that?
Of course, she wasn’t.
Of course, she’d accepted when the network’s offer had come through. She hadn’t thought October would be fall-like in California, but it was. Red and orange blazed the trees. At the downtown café, Tuesday had heard people exulting in the early October rain. She hadn’t seen a single palm tree except for a sick-looking one outside the airport four hours south in San Francisco.
Aidan was still waiting for her answer. On camera, she supposed it would be more interesting if she told him off. But she didn’t need to. “Yep, she was just trying to get rid of me, I totally admit it. What’s your mom like, Aidan?”
His eyes got wide, as if she’d just kicked him below the belt. Without saying another word, he spun on his heel and pushed his way through camera equipment to jump off the far side of the deck.
“Hey!” Liam shouted. “We still need to film you talking about the interior plans.”
A single middle finger was the response.
Tuesday’s heart was pounding, a little too hard. “I’m sorry. I guess that was my fault.”
“Are you kidding?” Jake shot her a thumb’s up. “That was great. Can you do it again later?”
Chapter 4
A
idan used his key to let himself into the Ballard office—it felt less weird than it used to. Liam and his adopted son Timbo used to live above the office, but they’d recently moved in to Felicia’s remodeled tree house, and the space still felt empty. The old house sighed around him, and the floorboards creaked. He flipped on the desk light, preferring that to advertising to all who drove by (his brothers) that someone was inside.
Of course, Liam had told Aidan to make a copy of the contract he’d signed.
And of course, Aidan hadn’t done it.
Liam was the oldest, the paper pusher. He’d practically been born with a stack of Post-its in his hand. He hoarded pens like other men collected dirty magazines.
Jake, the youngest, was the devil-may-care brother. He’d never met a pretty girl he couldn’t fall for or a boat he didn’t want to sail.
Aidan was just the tool guy.
And sometimes? Just a tool.
It wasn’t that he felt bad, per se, about the way he’d treated Tuesday Willis. She’d deserved it. No, she hadn’t. The small voice in his head sounded a lot like his stepfather Bill’s.
Aidan just wanted to see how long he was committed to this job. They hadn’t shot his reactions yet, but he knew the plans they’d made. Open-plan kitchen. Redo both bathrooms. Turn the two small bedrooms on the third attic floor into one bright, skylit loft. New porch.
Here it was. The contract had the network’s name on the top in red, and each page was thick and watermarked.
Aidan flipped the pages quickly. He found the page detailing the cancelation clauses. “Yeah. Well, that’s a shit sandwich, all right.”
The light flipped on, and the room went bright. Liam stood in the door frame. “I like ham and cheese better. But you and I have always had very different taste.”
Aidan threw the contract onto the desk. “I’m stuck doing it?”
“What are you talking about? You’re the head of construction.”
“I have a crew. They’re good.”
“On The Market is about us. The brothers.”
“She chose Jake. You don’t need me in this episode at all.”
“Jake can barely saw straight.”
“I’m going to give him the next project to head, you know that.”
“Okay. But not on camera. You’re forgetting that this is supposed to be advertising. Not only are we doing this to make the money to open Ballard Youth, but we’re also getting to the point where we can pick and choose our clients. Remember when we were barely making it? That wasn’t very long ago. Everything’s changed now, and it’s due to the show.”
Aidan folded his lips.
“Scotch?” His brother pointed to the kitchen.
“Hell, yeah.”
While Liam poured two shots, neat, Aidan opened the back door. He stood in the dark under the overhang as it began to drizzle again. “Thanks.”
Liam stood next to him. “Sometimes I think we should sell this place. Rent an office on Main.”
&n
bsp; “But it’s ours.” Theirs, together. The three men had bought the falling-down place together after their stepfather Bill Ballard had died. They’d fixed it up together, stage by stage. Each of them had spent time living in it, most recently Liam and his son.
“I know.”
“Hey, this house is the only retirement plan I have.”
Liam nodded in the darkness. “Sleepy beach town like this? It might not be the best plan in the world. And what about your condo?”
“The one I should have sold, you mean? Do you really want to go there?” Aidan tried to shrug the tension out of his shoulders. Instead, he got a bonus neck cramp. “Anyway, you know better than any of us about the property value zooming upward.”
“True. You don’t really want to get out of doing this show, do you?”
“Do you think I can?” Hope rose in Aidan’s chest.
“No way in hell.”
“Goddamnit.”
“Seriously, what is your problem, man? It can’t be just the old Callahan house. I know you wanted it, but I was pretty sure you’d get over that.”
Never. “That house was supposed to be mine.” His to fill.
“Whatever. Get over it. Is it about the girl?”
Fine. Let his brother think that. “I don’t like her.”
“What’s not to like? She seems nice. That’s like not liking soup.”
“I don’t like soup, either.” It was true. Soup was boring and didn’t fill a man up.
“Shoot, I forgot that.” Liam looked at him. “I know you wanted that house. And I’m sorry as hell you didn’t get it, you know I am. Want to tell me why you wanted it so bad, though? I feel like I’m missing a huge piece of the puzzle.”
“Bay view.”
“Nope, that’s not it.”
Aidan tried again. “That wraparound porch.”
“The one falling through?”
“The one I would have fixed.”
“You mean the one you will fix.”
Aidan shot back the rest of the scotch, liking the heat as it burned down his throat. He could do with a couple more of them. Maybe he’d hit the Golden Spike saloon on his way home.
See if there wasn’t a woman inside who could distract him.
Build it Strong (The Ballard Brothers of Darling Bay Book 2) Page 2
