Thrill Me (17 page)

“Hi. I'm Cindy. I'm one of the hair and makeup people.” The woman who had walked up to him was about twenty-five, with gold-blond hair and big green eyes. A tight T-shirt stretched over impressive breasts.

“Del.”

“I know. I asked about you.” She smiled. “Want to get some breakfast?”

The invitation was clear. She leaned toward him as she spoke. Her smile was easy, and when she finished with her question she put her hand on his arm. Del took a step back.

“Thanks, but I'm with her.” He nodded toward Maya.

Cindy shrugged. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

* * *

B
Y
THE
END
of the shoot, Maya knew two things for sure. That she'd never been so exhausted in her whole life, and that together she and Del had created magic. She'd only viewed the raw footage, but she liked what she'd seen.

The actual editing would be handled elsewhere. Still, she had copies of all she'd shot and later would get the finished commercials for her portfolio. In theory, she would never need them. She already had a job she liked. She wasn't looking to make a change. But it was good to have options.

She parked by her office. Del had wanted to drive her home, but she had a few things she needed to check before she could return to her small house and crawl into bed. She hadn't slept more than four hours for a week. She was so tired she was punchy, but it had been worth it.

She was proud of what she'd done. There'd been a challenge and she'd pulled it off. Del had been a big part of that. He'd stood by her the whole time. He'd offered great suggestions, had provided a buffer when one of the actors got a little full of himself and had ignored the blatantly sexual invitations of several cast members, not to mention from the crew.

Watching some big-busted sex kitten make eyes at him hadn't been fun—especially knowing how great a night with him could be. But he'd refused them all. From what she could tell, he hadn't been tempted. Not that he owed her anything. It wasn't as if she'd ever told him how she felt.

She walked to the rear door of the office and opened it. “I love you, Del,” she said aloud, then giggled. There was a conversation changer, she thought. Would he back out of the room slowly or run for the hills? Because she was pretty sure he wasn't going to be happy with the news.

Del liked her—she was sure of that. They worked well together. But love? He was interested in his next project, not forever. While she wanted...

Her brain was foggy, her thoughts unclear. Sleep beckoned. Just as soon as she sent off a few emails, she promised herself. She would sleep for two days and wake up refreshed. It was a plan. A good plan. She—

“There you are.”

Maya jumped and screamed as two small figures appeared in front of her. It took a second for her eyes to focus in the dimly lit hallway. Eddie and Gladys hovered.

“It's two in the morning,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“We could ask you the same question,” Eddie said. “You're young. You should be home having wild sex with Del.”

Gladys sighed. “I'll bet he's hung like a—”

Maya instinctively covered her ears. “Stop,” she pleaded. “I've been working around the clock for a week. I'm in a weakened condition. I plead for mercy.”

Eddie and Gladys looked at each other, then back at her.

“Just this once,” Eddie said. “But we want something in return.”

Oh, no. Were they going to ask for a picture of Del's butt? Because she wasn't sure she could get them that. And even if she could, she wasn't sure she wanted to. While she was a big believer in freedom of speech, she didn't think the founding fathers had the naked butt of the man she loved in mind when they'd penned that amendment.

“We want to talk to you about our show,” Gladys told her.

Eddie nodded. “It's not what we want it to be. Not the content. That's perfect. It's the production value. We'd like it to be higher.”

Maya's sleep-deprived brain scrambled to keep up. “Did you search online to find that phrase?” she asked.

The two old ladies nodded. “We did and we think people would enjoy our show more if it looked better. We want help.”

“Now?” she asked weakly, pretty sure she was beyond rallying.

“No. We want you at your best.” Eddie smiled. “We want you to hold a class. Like Sam Ridge did to help small businesses with their finances. It wasn't that interesting a topic, but the man does know how to fill out a suit.” She sighed, then looked at Maya. “We want a class about how to film our show. You can teach us about lights and camera positions and how to pan.”

“Like in the movies,” Gladys added.

Maya wasn't sure if she meant she wanted the show to look as if it were shot like a movie or that she wanted to make the movements they do in movies when they're pretending to film a show. Then she decided it didn't matter.

“You're on,” she told them. “Although one of you will have to remind me of this conversation. I'm pretty sure it's all going to be a blur.”

“We will,” Gladys promised, then winked at her friend. “This means Del is also in a weakened condition. Think we could sneak into his place and have our way with him?”

Maya gave a strangled laugh and decided at that moment, her emails could wait. Anything she sent out tonight—or this morning, seeing as it was well after midnight—wouldn't make sense, anyway.

“I love you both,” she told them with a yawn. “If you can catch him, go for it. He's totally hot.” She hugged the old women. “The class will be fun. I promise.”

“We'll hold you to that,” Eddie told her, then touched her cheek. “All right, young lady. You go get some sleep.”

“I will. Thanks.” She started for the door, then turned back. “About Del...”

Gladys waved her hand. “Not to worry. We're only teasing about him. He's like a son to us. Which is very sad, but there we are.”

Eddie nodded. “Don't tell anyone, but we're a lot more talk than action.”

A relief
, Maya thought. She waved. “Your secret is safe with me.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
WO
DAYS
AFTER
the commercial shoot wrapped, Del and Maya were ready to get back to their town project. He watched her add segments together, then compare the finished product to a previous version.

“It works better the other way,” he told her. “With Priscilla and Reno in the middle. Ending with an elephant and a pony is fun, but the tone is off. To quote you, you're not asking for the sale.”

“The call to action,” she said, her attention on the screen.

“Yeah. That. It's missing.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It's annoying when you're right.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I don't know. I kind of like it.”

“You would.” She sighed, then glanced to the screen in front of him. “Can you play them for me, back to back?”

He used the mouse to start the first video, then followed it with the second. Partway through, Maya stood and leaned over him.
To get a better look
, he told himself. Not to be closer to him, although that was a happy by-product.

She was still tired. He could tell by the way she carried herself. But she was getting caught up on rest. Her feistiness had returned. Their week of work had been as long and hard as she had promised, but still interesting as hell. He'd learned a ton, most of which he could apply to his new project. He would do a better job this time around. Not as good as Maya, but better than he'd been doing.

“Priscilla in the middle,” Maya said. “You're right.” She returned to her seat and made a few notes. “I should have seen that.”

“You can't be right about everything.”

“Why not?”

He chuckled. “Because I said so.”

“Well, then. It must be true.” She smiled at him. “That was a good time.”

He knew she was referring to the commercial shoot. “Yeah. Imagine what it must be like to have a crew like that all the time.”

“It would be a killer budget. For what you want to do, it's not necessary. Frankly, that much production would get in the way. The kids can learn to ignore one person with a camera, but all those other people milling around?” She shook her head. “It would drive the story. By the time they started to ignore it, you'd have to be moving on.”

She angled her chair toward his. “So not the people, but I could sure get into the equipment. I have lens envy.”

“Just the lenses, not the camera?”

“Cameras are easy. It's the lenses that kill you. Have you thought about applying for a grant? There must be several that you could qualify for. I've heard that writing grant proposals is a pain, but it could be worth it.”

“Something to think about,” he told her. In truth he didn't need grant money. He'd sold his company for enough that he could afford to buy Maya any lens she wanted. A whole set, even. But he didn't say that because he wouldn't be buying them for her. He would be buying them for himself, or a camera guy, if he took one along.

Come with me.
The words were there, just a breath away. All he had to do was say them. Make the offer. They could travel the world together.

Would she do it? Leave everything she'd ever known behind to travel with him? He had his doubts. Maya had always been more interested in the sensible choice. She hadn't been willing to gamble on him before—when he'd had a stable kind of life to offer her. Why would she be willing to risk it all on him now? And even if she said she was, could he trust her to tell the truth? To follow through?

“You could talk to Mayor Marsha,” she said.

It took him a second to realize she was still talking about the grants.

“She seems to have all the answers,” he said.

“Not all of them.” She sighed. “Did you know someone in town gave me a scholarship and I can't find out who? I'm sure Mayor Marsha knows, but she's not telling.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Mostly to thank them. It was a full ride. They paid for everything. I couldn't have gone to college without it.”

Del put his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers. “That's not true. You would have found another way. You were determined.”

“I'm not so sure.” She looked at him, then away. “I didn't grow up here, like you did. My mom wasn't exactly supportive. She used to tell me how much better her life would have been if I hadn't been around.”

“You know she's wrong about that. She was unhappy and taking it out on you.”

“Yeah, I know, but believing it in my head and believing it in my heart are two different things. She always said I wouldn't ever amount to anything. That I was a screwup and useless. The thing I was best at was making her unhappy and disappointing her. So when I say I don't know if I would have gotten through college on my own, I mean it. If I'd had to work two jobs, plus go to class... What if I'd heard her words in my head? What if I'd stopped believing in myself?”

“You didn't.”

“Because I didn't have to. So it's not just about the money. Whoever gave me that scholarship allowed me to succeed, despite my past.”

She pulled her hand free and turned toward him. “When I was little, I used to read all those stories about white knights coming to the rescue. I knew early on that no one was going to rescue me. That I had to rescue myself. I don't know if that's a good lesson or a bad one, but I haven't been able to let it go.”

“It's what makes you strong.”

“Maybe. And being strong is important. I get that. But kids also need hope. Understanding that is one of the reasons I'm so interested in your project. Kids need to know that it's okay to want a decent future and believe it's possible. They need to see what else is out there. Moving here allowed me to believe, for the first time ever, that I just might be able to go to college. To have a better life. Teachers were there for me. Being smart and doing well in school was actually rewarded.”

She paused, then gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. “Sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that.”

“Don't apologize. I don't share your experience, but I appreciate that you went through it. I grew up here. I always had a place, not to mention expectations.”

“Ah, yes. The Mitchell family. Be an artist or take care of those who are creative.”

“We have two functions in life. There's no middle ground.”

She studied him. “Did you find middle ground by leaving?”

“Yeah, thanks to you.”

“No, you found it on your own. I was simply the kick in the pants you needed to break free. And as my motives were completely selfish, not to mention ridiculously immature, I won't take credit at all.”

“You weren't immature,” he told her. “You were scared. How could you have trusted me? There'd never been anyone you could trust. Love was just a word.”

“If that's true, why did it hurt so much to lose you?”

Her tone was light when she asked the question, but he sensed they were treading into dangerous territory. He and Maya had already had their chance. Their time.

Despite the tension in the room, he forced himself to lean back and speak casually. He chuckled. “You had to miss me, Maya. Come on. I'm a catch.”

As he'd hoped, she relaxed, and then laughed. “You're not all that.”

“Then you're looking at me wrong.”

They both returned their attention to the computer screens. She pointed out a shadow in a few of the frames and he went to check for other versions of that day's shooting. The moment was lost.

He told himself it was for the best. That whatever they might have had with each other, it had been over years ago. This was different. Two adults with a common goal. After his father's birthday party and the summer was over, he would leave. Without Maya.

* * *

A
T
THE
END
of her workday, Maya checked her calendar, then got in her car and headed out of town. Zane and Phoebe had been due back from their honeymoon the previous evening. Technically it might be too soon for visitors, but she had a strong need to see her brother.

Strange how quickly she'd gotten used to living close to Zane. For years she'd dissed him, behind his back and to his face. They'd argued about Chase, had assumed the other couldn't possibly understand and generally acted more like enemies than family.

But they hadn't been able to let go. Whatever tenuous bond connected them, it couldn't be broken. Not completely. And when Zane had needed her over the summer to help with Chase, she'd been there.

Those couple of weeks on the cattle drive had changed everything. She knew some of it was him falling in love. There were those who would say he'd been healed by the love of a good woman. Maya knew the metamorphosis had come from the opposite place. It wasn't being loved that had softened the hard edges around Zane's heart—it was loving Phoebe.

He was a changed man. Whereas before she would never have thought to run to him for comfort, today she drove directly to the ranch and bypassed the house in favor of his office.

He was exactly where she would expect to find him at the end of a workday. At his computer, scowling. She smiled as she entered the room.

“Welcome home.”

He looked up at her, then rose and walked toward her. “Maya,” he said, before pulling her into a bear hug.

She went willingly, gratefully. Zane was a rock. Sometimes he was an annoying rock, but he was steadfast and dependable. Something she hadn't appreciated enough when she was sixteen and sure his only goal in life was to make sure she and Chase were unhappy.

“Hey, you,” she said as she stepped back. “How was your honeymoon? And as I ask, remember you're my brother. Don't gross me out with too many details.”

“It was great.” He motioned for her to take a seat. “I'm sure Phoebe will give you the particulars.”

“Too many of them,” she grumbled, but without much energy. “I keep having to remind her that hearing her gush about you isn't the same as when she talked about other guys. There's an ick factor.”

“If she wants to talk, let her talk.”

“Oh, sure. Take her side.”

“I can't help it.”

Zane settled back in his chair. He was relaxed in a way she'd never seen before.
Love
, she thought, trying not to be bitter that the woman he'd fallen for had loved him back. No such luck for Maya. While she was pretty sure Del wouldn't say no to having her in his bed, he didn't seem to have any sense of urgency in the “I want more” department. Not that she'd shared her feelings, either, but that wasn't the point.

“What's happening with you?” he asked.

She started to tell him about the commercial, but instead found herself saying, “Did you know that Phoebe was missing her mom at the wedding?”

“She told me. She missed having her around, asking for her advice.” His tone gentled. “Not all mothers are bad, Maya.”

“I know. I'm friends with Elaine and she's got five kids. Some mothers are great.”

“Most are. You got a bad one. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and make it better.”

“If you could, you should probably use your power for something more significant than my past. You could stop a war or save someone's life.”

“You're worth saving. She was wrong about you.” His gaze was steady. “You know that, right? That every day you're proving her wrong?”

Because Zane had heard the fights. The angry accusations of how Maya had ruined her mother's life. Whatever had gone wrong, Maya had been to blame.

“What brought this on?” he asked.

“I don't know. I've been thinking about my past. The scholarship. Not knowing who helped me is kind of a drag.”

“If that person wanted you to know, he or she would tell you.”

“Logic. You know I hate that.”

“You and Phoebe both. Not that I'm surprised. You're alike in other ways.”

Maya straightened. “What are you talking about? Phoebe and I are nothing alike.” Her friend was sweet and giving. Maya was career obsessed and sometimes pretty bitchy. “I'm difficult and stubborn. Phoebe's great.”

“You are, too. You both lead with your heart. Look how you were always worried about Chase.”

“Yeah, but I was mean to you.”

“You had something to tell me. I should have listened.”

“This is just plain creepy.”

He chuckled. “I'm simply pointing out there's a reason the two of you are friends. You have a lot in common. It's part of why I love you both.” He winked. “In very different ways.”

“Thank you for clearing that up. Because otherwise, ick.”

Zane didn't smile. “You understand that I love you.”

“Yes. You've said it. Why are you repeating it?”

“Because I'm not sure you see yourself as lovable.”

Maya felt her mouth drop open. Were her flaws so obvious that everyone saw them? And if they were, what was wrong with her?

Or maybe she was looking at the situation from entirely the wrong perspective. Maybe she should embrace being lovable. Open herself up to the possibility. Stop being defined by hurtful words uttered by a woman who had never known how to be happy.

“I love you, too,” she told her brother. “Now I'm going to go see my best friend and hear intimate details about your honeymoon. Be afraid. Be very afraid.”

“Not a chance. Any reports you get are going to bother you a lot more than me.”

She sighed. “I really hate it when you're right.”

“I know you do.”

* * *

M
AYA
FOUND
P
HOEBE
in the kitchen. She was pouring brownie batter into a pan. The scent of butter and chocolate drifted to her, making her stomach growl. Maya sighed, knowing the smells would only get better—or worse, depending on her perspective—when the pan was put in the oven.