Читать книгу Playing Dirty - Susan Andersen - Страница 13

This is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought it would be.

THE MINUTE AVA got home that evening, she kicked off her heels, washed off her makeup and changed into her navy, white and orange Moroccan-tile-patterned sleep pants, topping them with a cotton knit camisole and cardigan. She made herself a quick bite to eat and was seated in front of the fireplace with a glass of chardonnay a short while later, trying to decide if she wanted to select a recorded program from her DVR to watch or simply continue staring at the flames, when her doorbell rang.

She blew out a breath. “Crap.” She was so not in the mood for company.

But since she was currently in a dating slump, it was likely Poppy or Jane, and adjusting her attitude, she set aside her wineglass and rose to answer the door.

The last person she expected to see on the other side was Cade, and for a second she could only gape at him.

“Whoa,” he said, looking just as startled. Except that didn’t make sense. Not when, unlike her, he had known perfectly well he was coming here.

Damn him, anyhow. Here she was all naked-faced, not a spec of makeup to give her pale complexion a little color or hide her freckles, while he, even under the hallway’s fluorescent fixture, looked like a million bucks, his eyes blazing brilliant blue in that lightly tanned, angular face. The harsh light also picked out the raindrops spangling his hair and dampening the shoulders of his worn leather bomber jacket.

His expression smoothing out, he gave her a slow once-over and raised his eyebrows. “Modeling for Victoria’s Secret in your spare time?”

She glanced down at her unfastened cardigan, which exposed the fact that she was naked beneath its matching light orange tank top. Crap. She pulled the cardigan’s sides together to add another layer of fabric between his too-seeing eyes and her unbound breasts.

And made a rude noise even as she buttoned it. “Like I have free time. Aside from this half hour I was trying to snatch for myself, that is.” She gave him a pointed look. “I’m off duty, Gallari. Why are you here?”

“I wanted to remind you that the makeup and hair people will be here day after tomorrow, as well as three of my interview subjects, so you’ll have additional people to feed.”

“I know. I talked to them about their transportation needs, remember? Which, since the hair and makeup women are local, were nonexistent. And I’ve arranged drivers for the interviewees.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But that’s neither here nor there. The real question is, you couldn’t have called me about it?”

“I could have. Except I also need to talk to you about doing an interview for the documentary—and that’s better done face-to-face.”

“You want me to—?” Wondering if she looked as blank as she felt, she gave her head a little shake and admitted, “Okay, I’m clueless. Surely you have more qualified people to do whatever it is that needs doing.”

“I don’t need your help conducting interviews, Ava— I’m talking about you giving an interview.”

“Like the three people you have lined up for tomorrow, you mean? You want to interview me? On camera?”

“Kinda hard to let people know your take on Agnes without it,” he agreed with a slight smile. “I’d like Jane and Poppy’s participation, as well.”

There was no need to speculate about her expression this time—no doubt it was every bit as horrified as she felt. “No. Hell, no. Janie and Poppy might have a different take, but for my own FYI…are you out of your mind?”

“I prefer to think of it as doing my job. I have a thousand and one details that need my attention, and you and your gal pals are one of the biggies.” He raked his hair off his forehead, leaving damp furrows in the wake of his fingers. “Look, do you think I could come in? This is important to the documentary, and I’d really appreciate a few minutes to explain why.”

Her first inclination was to say no. She didn’t want him in her place. And please, she was off the clock—did she really have to carry the professionalism she’d been so carefully maintaining into her personal time and space?

Only if you want to maintain a civil working relationship for the next month and a half, girlfriend. Damn. With a resigned sigh, she stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” He stepped inside and shrugged out of his jacket as he followed her into the living room. When she didn’t offer to take it off his hands, he slung it over the back of one of the breakfast bar stools they passed.

She was tempted to ignore the fact she had a glass of wine waiting for her while he did not, but she had already strained the manners that had been drummed into her since birth by willfully ignoring his coat. With a genuine attempt not to sound as grudging as she felt, she said, “Would you like a cup of tea or a glass of wine or something?” She drew the line at coffee. She was not offering to make a pot for one cup.

“Water would be good.”

“Have a seat and I’ll get you some.”

It only took her a minute to grab a bottle from the fridge and bring it out to where he stood in front of the fire. After handing it to him, she settled back into her seat on the couch.

Cade unscrewed the cap and chugged the water down in one throat-working, attenuated swallow. He set the empty bottle on a magazine on her coffee table, looked around, then dragged an armchair over to face her. Sitting, he planted his forearms on his thighs and leaned toward her.

“This production isn’t just about the murder of Agnes Wolcott’s man of affairs and the mystery surrounding the disappearance of the Wolcott Suite,” he said, his eyes intent. “It’s first and foremost the story of Agnes. I admit it started out primarily about the mystery, since that’s what I’ve built my name doing. But once I started researching and realized how ahead of her time and larger than life she was, I widened the scope of the story. It was also her personality and accomplishments that sold it to the network.”

He made an uncharacteristically awkward motion, as if to touch Ava’s knee, but then pulled the hand that had started to reach out back again, letting it dangle between his spread knees. “It was you, though, who really got me fired up when you talked to me and Karin about Agnes when we met to discuss the script. Your enthusiasm brought her to life in a way she hadn’t fully been before.”

“Trust me,” she said dryly, “nobody will be enthused when I turn out to be a big stiff in front of your camera.” Her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of having one trained on her.

Cade looked skeptical. “This from a woman who isn’t the least bit shy about breaking into a dance whenever and wherever the mood hits her? I’m not asking you to strip naked in public, Ava. All you’ll be doing is having a conversation with me, one-on-one.”

“Yeah, that oughtta make me less self-conscious,” she muttered. “Being on camera with the man who told the world I was a big fat joke.”

He froze, his face losing all expression. Then he slowly straightened until his wide shoulders brushed the back of the seat. He met her gaze with a level one of his own.

“I have apologized and apologized for that, but I’ll say it again. I’m sorry. I can’t change what I did, but I am—swear-on-a-stack-of-bibles, strike-me-with-lightning-if-I’m-lying—sorry.”

Then he leaned forward once more and planted his elbows on his knees. “Admit it, though, Ava—even then, even that day—you weren’t intimidated by me. You know damn well you gave as good as you got. Hell, I was known for what was left of our senior year as Quick Draw.”

She shrugged. “You came, you went.”

“Yeah, I’m painfully aware of the fact. I’d apologize for that as well, but I was eighteen frickin’ years old and you had me hotter ’n a pistol. But, hey.” His blue eyes glinted a second before his mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating smile. “If you want a do-over I’d be more than happy to demonstrate how much I’ve improved since then.”

Her stomach hollowed. Assuring herself she’d simply eaten too fast, she said coolly, “What a generous offer. Thank you, but I’ll pass.” And yet… You had me hotter ’n a pistol? His friend Dylan-the-asshole had made sleeping with her sound more like an onerous chore than an act of unbridled lust.

Before she could figure out if Cade really meant it, however, or if he was simply saying what he thought she wanted to hear now in an attempt to get his own way, he gave an indifferent shrug and returned to the original subject.

“Look, I know you may not like me, but you can take one thing to the bank—I am dead serious about making Agnes’s story the best damn representation of her that I can.”

“Then I’ll say it again,” she promptly retorted. “Putting me on camera won’t aid your project.”

“I’ve heard you talk about her, Ava, and you obviously loved her. Then there’s the fact that I’ve seen you and your friends together. As a unit you’re invincible and you know it. Once the three of you get going on Miss Agnes, as you called her with me and Karin that day, you won’t even remember the camera is there. Hell, you likely won’t need me to guide the conversation at all. Not to mention all three of you are probably photogenic as all get-out.” He seemed to look inward for a moment. “The trick is gonna be sound. It’s always more difficult when you have more than two subjects.” Then he shook his head. “But that’s why we have Kyle—he’s the best sound mixer I’ve ever worked with.”

Eyes sober, he leaned deeper into her space. “Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal that I never make with my subjects. If you don’t like the way I capture you, I’ll edit you out entirely. I strongly believe that by doing so I’ll be doing your Miss Agnes an injustice, but you have my word that I’ll bite the bullet and do it anyway. I’ll put it in writing,” he added quickly before it even occurred to her to make a snide remark about his word. “You have an opportunity here, though, Ava—a chance to round out Agnes’s story by telling the world about a woman who had an impact on your life. In any good documentary, it’s the personal knowledge of a film’s subject, the anecdotes the people who knew her tell, that in the end add the texture and richness to that subject’s story.”

“Why have a scriptwriter at all, then, if you think unscripted reminiscences add so much?”

“I’m approaching this project like a feature. There are a lot of very visual aspects to Miss Agnes’s life and I have a budget like I’ve never had before. So I’m shooting the interviews in HD, but shooting the re-creations with the actors on film to give that lusher look of an earlier era. It will give her story a larger, richer look.” Slowly he straightened back into his chair and for a moment simply looked at her. “I hope you’ll agree to be part of it. But even if you don’t, would you give me your friends’ numbers so I can see about getting their input? I want to capture the woman who befriended three girls not just for a single tea at her mansion, but for years’ worth of teas and other important landmarks in their lives.”

Ava knew he was right, that he was offering her an unprecedented opportunity. She hated to admit, even to herself, that a big part of what was holding her back was the knowledge of how that bugger-all camera would add ten pounds. God, how shallow could she get? She’d rarely even thought about Cade during the past decade and now she was worried about what he’d think when he saw her on film or digitized or whatever? What the hell was that all about?

“I’ll do it,” she said before her vanity could sink its claws even deeper.

“You’ll give me their numbers?”

“I’ll participate in your documentary. It would probably be best if I called Jane and Poppy, myself. They’re not exactly your biggest fans.”

His mouth crooked. “You don’t have to pretty it up. You can say they hate my guts.”

“They hate your guts. But they loved Miss Agnes, so even if the request came from you they’d likely do it for her. But it’ll probably fly better coming from me.”

“Thank you.”

She rose to her feet. “You do understand I’m not doing this for you, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I get that.” He, too, stood up. “But thanks, anyway. When I was researching Miss Agnes, she struck me as a woman who was not only fascinating, but unique. I’m happy for every opportunity to showcase as many facets of her character as I can fit into ninety-nine minutes.”

“I’m starting to believe that.” She plucked his coat off the back of the stool and held it out to him. “It’s the only reason I’ve agreed to do this.”

“Yeah.” He shot her a crooked grin. “I figured it wasn’t for my dazzling smile.”

It could have been, Ava thought.

Once upon a time, before he’d wrecked everything, it really could have been.