Page 5 of One Kind Hand

“True, but the story doesn’t actually take place in Vermont. I think it’s supposed to be Maine.”

“Why not shoot in Maine then?” They’d shot on the real locations plenty of times.

“I think they grabbed a deal or something by shooting in Vermont.” Cody was quiet for a moment. “Do you think you could—” He stopped when Austin held up a hand.

“No water, Cody.”

“Okay, okay.” Cody gave him that look of pity Austin hated.

Only five—no, four—people knew why he feared the water. They were the only ones who needed to know, and even they didn’t know the entire story.

“This double better be amazing,” Austin said.

“He is,” Cody assured him. “But not so amazing as to outright replace the master.” He bent as much as he could in his seat, mocking worship of Austin.

Barking sounded behind them and Austin peeked over his shoulder. “Someone’s awake.”

A moment later, a tiny black, brown, and white Chihuahua appeared at their feet, its skinny tail wagging like wild.

“Berto!” Austin scooped up the small pup and placed him in his lap. “How was your nap, buddy?”

Berto licked at the scruff lining Austin’s jaw. Scruff he wasn’t allowed to shave completely because it was a part of his signature look.

“He no doubt slept better than we ever do.” Cody scratched the top of Berto’s head. “That bed you got him is fit for royalty.”

“He deserves it. Right, Berto?” Austin patted the pooch’s short white fur at his neck and in a few seconds Berto was all curled up in his lap.

The dog had belonged to Summer and when she died, Austin had tried to get his other sisters to take the pup. A part of him, however, didn’t trust they’d actually care for the little guy. Berto’s compact size made him a great travel buddy, so Austin had kept the dog himself. Everybody loved Berto. They’d had a few months together now and they appeared to be a good match.

If only it were that easy to find a woman.

“Mr. Rayhill,” Melanie said. Her hair was a little ruffled and her gaze combed over Cody instead now. “We’ll be landing in Vermont in about fifteen minutes.”

“Great. Thanks,” Austin said.

Cody trailed a finger along Melanie’s arm. No doubt Cody would find a way to keep Melanie as a part of their entourage while filming this movie. Austin didn’t care. A sex-fed Cody made a better agent.

Melanie gave them both a little wave and made her way to the back of the plane again.

“Can we keep—” Cody began, craning his head to watch Melanie walk.

“Yes.”

“Cool.” Cody rubbed his hands together. “Okay, let’s see. Fifteen minutes is enough time to take a peek at these helicopter submissions.”

“Helicopter submissions?” Austin slid the script into his bag and gave Berto a little pat when the pup grumbled over his movement. “What are you talking about?”

“The producer of this film has a thing about spreading the love to locals,” Cody said. “It’s a pretty cool program actually. He puts out calls for specific skills and pays locals to help out on the movie. His way of giving back to the community, I suppose.”

“That is pretty cool.” Austin leaned on the armrest between them to see Cody’s tablet screen better. “So he put out a call for choppers this time?” He’d read a scene with a helicopter in it and it’d been a heart-pounding one. Was a local up for a challenge like this?

“Yeah, and there are a ton of entries from places in and near Vermont. Even a few Canadian entries.” Cody tapped his screen a few times then scrolled through a long list. “The producer said we can pick because you’ll be in the chopper with the local pilot.” He handed the tablet to Austin. “Take a peek.”

Austin took the tablet and scanned the list. Name after name fluttered by as he scrolled. Black Wolf Choppers run by Dennis Braxer sounded badass. As did Silver Wing Flights owned by Eric Silver. And Blades piloted by Stone Rogers. The list continued with an ample amount of edgy company names and equally testosterone-fueled pilot names. Apparently flying choppers was what dudes did for fun and business around here.

Except . . . is that . . . ? Austin scrolled back in the list swearing he saw . . . yup, a woman’s name.

Charlene Moyen. Of Moyen Helicopter Services. She owned and operated a MD500 chopper which she used to assist in search and rescues. That meant she’d probably done some precarious flying and was good in an emergency. The application also said she flew private charters so she no doubt knew her way around fussy customers.