Page 6 of He Has Pluck
My gaze snaps to his, and every muscle in my body tenses.
“What do you mean by that?” I take a deep breath to ask what I’ve been afraid to know. “What exactly is my reputation on the street?”
“I don’t know about the street, but in the business, everyone knows you killed a man. Some call it brave. Most think you were stupid for having a fling with a local when you obviously didn’t know who he was. You used poor judgment. That’s the consensus.”
Ghosts of my Mom’s reputation fly in to haunt me. Shit.
“Brave, huh?” I say with a scowl. “It was damn gutsy. I’d like to see what another woman, or even a man, would have done in my situation.”
“That’s the point, Juliette. You shouldn’t have gotten yourself into that situation.”
“It was a fluke. I need to get back on the saddle right away and prove myself. Don’t you have a second camera job somewhere out of the country?” Anything but this.
A burst of lust for hockey boy pops into my head, and I can’t stand myself. Well, if I were stupid enough to jump into bed with him, at least I wouldn’t have to shoot him in the morning because he’s about to kill me to steal my film and production files. I’m pretty sure of that.
But then again, if I did this documentary, maybe I could turn it into an expose, and there might be something worth stealing.
“No,” Dan says, bringing me back to the conversation. “You’re seen as a liability. You need to settle down and prove yourself.”
“We both know this Brawlers thing is a waste of my talents. It requires no bravery or guts to film a hockey team.”
He leans forward. “It’s not about your guts. You need to prove that you’re reliable. You need to ace this project and get your reputation back by staying out of trouble—and iffy relationships. I don’t need to tell you that you have to stay clear of the hockey players.”
“That’s no challenge at all.”
“We’ll see.”
“You must be mistaking me for my mother.” Dan knew dad from college, but he got to know the rest of my family when dad did a short stint at the embassy in Boston, and we lived here for a while. Those were good times.
“No, but clearly, you’re not invincible. You’ve just been through a major trauma, and it’s been suggested that you need a break—an assignment to cleanse the palate. No complications. Just you and the camera and the job. Chill and savor the lack of high stakes tension.”
“This assignment is more deadly than you think,” I say, grimacing. “I’ll be in grave danger of being bored to death.”
He laughs. “Just stay out of trouble—especially out of bed with the subjects—and I’ll get you on my next project.”
“Easy,” I say, despite my resentment that he’s telling me who I can sleep with, and the spike of panic in my lady parts. “I’m not a hockey fan and especially not a fan of hockey players. What’s your next project?” My heart goes pitter-patter because this is the carrot I need to endure a sports documentary.
“We’re covering a sex trafficking cartel for a Vice TV series, starting in July. We’ll be going inside for exclusive interviews, interviewing the victims and filming the warehouses where the victims are kept.”
I lick my lips. I’d say he’s full of shit, but I know better. He’s a master manipulator, and the last thing I need him to do is manipulate me. “Why would you take a chance on me?”
“I want the best camera in the business with me.”
I know there’s a catch, and my belly clenches, waiting to hear what he knows.
“But I need to know that you’re a hundred percent committed. There are rumors that you fell apart after pulling the trigger.”
Shit. That shoe dropped like an anvil.
“How…? Never mind.” I grit my teeth because that was supposed to remain strictly confidential. So much for HIPPA.
“Relax. I’m not spreading rumors.”
I snort. “Good to know.” I know I can trust Dan. He’s good people and was one of my dad’s oldest, dearest friends. But I don’t need him to know that.
“But I do need to know where your head’s at, that you’re—”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly stable. But I still don’t see how a hockey team documentary will prove anything one way or another.”
