Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
She grabbed her bag and stepped out.
The porch light burned steadily, and she paused when she saw Clancy and Ewan sitting on the porch swing. “Boys?”
Clancy finished plopping the remnants of a sandwich into his mouth, still wearing the suit from earlier. He had, however, ditched the tie and unbuttoned his shirt. “Wasn’t sure you were gonna make it back here tonight.” His blue eyes sizzled beneath the mellow light.
Was that a dig? It felt like one. She climbed the steps, her boots thudding softly on the wood. “I told you I planned to stay here. Texted you earlier.”
“Yeah. But that cowboy bartender was looking at you like you were dessert.” Clancy kicked back, crossing his ankles and showing his leather loafers.
Somewhat true. Adam had not only looked at her like that, he’d offered weeks of fun.
Ewan looked from Clancy to her, one of his eyebrows arching. While Clancy handled the contracts and law, Ewan worked as the art director. He saw angles, structures, and textures like no one else. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Bianca said.
“Ha,” Clancy countered. “Bianca has been here one night and already found an extra to date.”
Ewan glanced at him. “You sound jealous.” Unlike Clancy, Ewan wore jeans and a flannel shirt with well-used boots. He liked to tromp around a location to find just the right places to film. He wore his blond hair longer to his shoulders and gold-rimmed glasses that framed his green eyes. “You jealous, Clancy?”
Yeah, sometimes the two of them got sick of each other.
Clancy rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. I would rather the reputation of the production company didn’t hit the trash with our pre-production field team.”
Irritation clawed through Bianca, but before she could retort, Ewan chortled.
He laughed. “Whatever. Didn’t you sleep with the mayor of Bakerville while we were filming that limited series last year? Before the actors even landed in town?”
Hey. Wasn’t that right about when Clancy asked her out? “Well?” Bianca asked.
Clancy checked his watch. “I’m sure I don’t remember. If I had slept with the mayor, it would’ve been before Bianca finally, and very briefly, agreed to go on a couple of dates with me.”
Ewan kicked dirt off his boot. “That was a bad idea, and you both know it. We work together in too close of conditions for any of us to date.” The guy seemed to completely forget he was dating Liam, their director.
Exasperation filtered through her. “Why are you two dolts sitting on Mrs. Shiller’s porch?”
Now Clancy chuckled. “She let us sit inside until eight, but then she said the place closed except for guests, so we’d have to wait for you on the porch. But she did make us sandwiches.”
“Roast beef,” Ewan added.
Bianca moved toward the door. “Did you check in at the Inn by the water?”
“Yep,” Ewan said.
Good. She liked having a bit of distance between them in case she decided to take Adam up on his offer. Her body tingled at the thought. It was so unlike her, but she was tired of just working. “I’m having coffee on a working ranch tomorrow morning, and I’ll let you know if it seems like a good place to film. That is, if it’s okay with the owners.”
Clancy stood. “Good. I have one farmhouse chosen for the main family scenes, but we could use a couple more.”
Bianca’s eyes felt gritty. Man, she needed sleep. “You got the contracts signed already?”
“Not yet. The Willoughbys wanted a night to think about it, but according to our investigators, they need the money for their farm. They’ve applied for two loans, each in the fifty thousand dollar range—one for back taxes and one to plant new crops—but have been turned down.” Lightning zapped nearby, illuminating Clancy. “Let’s scout somewhere tropical for the next movie. I don’t care if it’s a western.”
Ewan stood, brushing crumbs off his pants. “I’m on board with that. Come on. Let’s drive both cars to the bar and then you can drive us to the Inn. I’m in the mood for tequila.”
Clancy studied her. “We thought we’d hit the town and have a couple of drinks. Want to come and see the bars at night?”
“No thanks.” She fought a yawn. Speaking at town meetings took energy, although she’d done it enough times that she no longer felt like throwing up afterward. “I need sleep. See you tomorrow.” She opened the door and walked inside, letting the warm smell of chocolate chip cookies wash over her.
Mrs. Shiller hustled in from the kitchen wearing a housecoat, the belt knotted tight at her waist. Pink curlers dotted her white hair, and a thick layer of cream coated her face, giving her a faint shine. She looked ready for bed and wide awake at the same time. In her arms was a heavy glass vase crowded with roses, dark red and tightly furled, their smell thick and heady in the doorway. “Oh good. You made it back before the rain,” she said.