Permanent Vacancy. Katy Lee

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ No,” she answered. Her days of trouble had ended when she’d sent a certain heavy-fisted deputy in the sheriff’s department packing. “Just a little misunderstanding with the town. I’ll get it taken care of—” Her voice trailed off as she noticed Colm and the cameraman pressing in even closer. The two seemed to work in sync to invade her private space.

      A red flag hoisted high and waved in her mind’s eye. Had she escaped one bully only to sign on with another? She’d send them right away if that was the case.

      But renovations took money, and Gretchen had already spent every dime she’d earned from waitressing and doing odd jobs around the island to buy the house and to update the plumbing and electricity. She had to if she wanted to live here. To turn away the crew would mean returning to her waitressing life and serving her ex when he came in for his weekly bratwurst at her mother’s German restaurant. The thought of her old puppet master winning caused her breath to catch and wheeze. The man wasn’t even here and he still tainted her dreams from the crew’s first take. She reached into her jeans pocket for her inhaler and took a quick pull of the medicine to open her lungs. Disgust filled her at this ailment that weakened her.

      “Asthma?” the host asked.

      Gretchen nodded and pocketed the inhaler behind her. She straightened her pink short-sleeved polo with conviction. “I’ll be fine now,” she stated. Billy would no longer be her puppet master, she determined again. And the television crew would be staying.

      But that also meant showing them they couldn’t push her around. “Where is your director, Troy Mullen?” she demanded. “I met him three months ago when he visited the island to interview me. He assured me he would be a part of the production from day one.”

      “He’ll be here later with the rest of the crew and supplies,” Colm answered.

      “Then you can turn off your camera and wait for him.”

      “No can do, ma’am.” A black-bearded face popped out from behind the camera. It was her first glimpse of the cameraman. He looked nice enough with his round head and big cheeks, even if his words weren’t what she wanted to hear. “You signed the release and accepted the terms. We determine what to film.”

      “Terms?” A sudden flash of the stack of papers she signed: lots of liability or lack thereof on her side. The camera lens reflected her wavering image. As she stared at herself she watched resignation take over. She’d have to get used to it, beginning now. “Yes, I remember. Let’s just start over, then.” She looked to the host. “Mr. McCrae, would you like that tour now?”

      “Call me Colm.” The host leaned in even more. The red flag waved again. Then Gretchen saw that he wore a small black microphone clipped to the lapel of his denim shirt. A sudden realization hit her. Her voice wouldn’t be recorded properly if she wasn’t speaking into a microphone. That had to be why he stood so close.

      Gretchen almost laughed aloud at her misplaced paranoia. What was wrong with her? Just because one man in her life had been a bully didn’t make all men bullies.

      “Actually, Gretchen,” Colm said, “I’d love to hear more about this town meeting. A bit of tension in the town about a B&B opening on its island could be grand for ratings, wouldn’t you say, Nate?”

      The cameraman, who could only be Nate, grunted. “I don’t think that’s what the boss has in mind. He’ll want something more exciting than a town meeting to spike ratings.”

      Gretchen searched Colm McCrae’s face. Nate’s was hidden again behind his equipment. “More exciting? Ratings?” she said. “Please don’t tell me you’re looking to fabricate a problem just so you can spike your rankings. I thought this show was about educating people to renovate their homes. I thought you were above such manipulating tactics.”

      Nate and Colm laughed, Colm’s more rich than the cameraman’s. “I’m not sure there’s a show out there that isn’t concerned with ratings, Miss Bauer.”

      “Well, there’s no big story to tell here, so you can get that out of your head. Now, do you want the tour, or don’t you?”

      Colm leaned down mere inches from her face. He put his arm over her shoulder. She felt his cool, minty breath on the same cheek that held a memory of a hot, searing pain. She held stock-still and gave nothing away. The door squeaked behind her as Colm pushed it wider and said, “After you, love.”

      Gretchen swung around to enter, welcoming the space between them. Colm’s boots hit her wooden floors with heavy clunks as he followed her in. She flinched with every stomp, still a bit unnerved.

      He passed her and surveyed the foyer with a growing frown on his clean-shaven face. His gaze fell on the pitiful staircase and stopped. Where once a grand flight of stairs had curved up to the second-floor balcony, now only stair treads remained, the railing gone.

      “The door needs a little oil and it’ll be right as rain,” Colm announced. “But the interior is a whole other story. Three weeks to completion? We won’t have the house done this side of Christmas.” He covered his mic and whispered, “Troy’s lost his mind.”

      Gretchen’s ears perked to Colm McCrae’s last words. Not so much the words but how he said them.

      He’d dropped his Irish accent.

      “Wait,” she interrupted. “You’re not really Irish?”

      He swung a quick look at her. “Of course I’m Irish.” He flashed a smile of straight white teeth. “You want to kiss me?”

      “What? No!” She shook her head to clear the image he’d conjured up in her mind. “I know I just heard you speak with no accent. Or at least not an Irish one.”

      Colm’s grin deepened. “Good catch. I suppose I slipped. Don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold.” At his wink Gretchen pressed her lips together. The past eight years of her life were about upholding a man’s image. She wasn’t about to start again for another, not even the famous Colm McCrae.

      She folded her arms. “I can’t believe this. You’re nothing but a big phony.”

      Colm’s smile evaporated. “Don’t worry about the tour, Miss Bauer. We have a lot of work to do. I’ll inspect the place today myself and decide what projects to start with. You’re welcome to check in periodically.”

      “Check in? Mr. McCrae, I live here.”

      “You live here? Kind of dangerous, don’t you think? Especially with your asthma.”

      “My asthma is under control as long as I have my inhaler, not that it’s any of your concern.”

      “Does this place even have running water and electricity?”

      “Surprise, surprise, Mr. McCrae, I not only have good ears, but I’m also pretty handy.” She wished she could have handled the whole renovation, but that would have taken years, and money she didn’t have.

      “Pretty.” He looked right at her. “Aye, I see that.”

      Gretchen opened her mouth at his gall.

      He held up his hands. “Look, Goldie, I’ll admit I’m impressed with your skills, but even still, it’s not customary to have the home owner on-site during renovating and shooting. СКАЧАТЬ