“A year and a half ago?” My voice came out a little squeaky. “That long?”
She nodded with a grimace.
What could he possibly be doing two or three times a month for that long? Was it because he was doing that ‘good stuff’ he refused to elaborate on?
Now I didn’t just have alarm bells dinging—I had church bells ringing out. The longer I spent back in Whiskey Key, the more and more mysterious Brett Walker became.
How could one person be so complex?
“Are you looking to interview people?” Camille broke through my thoughts. “For the paper?”
“Oh, right, yeah. I’m not really sure where to start.” I looked out at the crowd. There had to be at least three hundred people here. More, probably. I knew from spending a little too much time researching my home town last night that the color run was crazy here. Mostly because it signaled the start of the hard tourist season and was swiftly followed by the Whiskey Key Whiskey and Wine Festival. The crazy then started and didn’t let up for three months.
“Want some help? I know exactly who will be happy to get their faces and names in the paper and remind the little people just how generous the resident multi-millionaires are.” A wry smile crept onto her face.
Okay, now she was speaking my language. I was good at multi-millionaires.
“Lead the way.”
And she did. I smiled my way through two conversations with different people of whom I only had vague memories. The Lawrences were donating twenty-thousand dollars to the local authorities to renovate the park and add a skate park for the kids who couldn’t quite seem to make their own out of scrap wood, and the Peterboroughs were donating ten-thousand dollars to the local hospital for the maternity unit.
According to Carly, both families were worth more than ten million.
They were pushing the boat right out with their donations.
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d spin right out of my head.
It wasn’t until the third family that I actually remembered anybody, and it was only because I knew the guy standing in front of me from school.
“Lani Montana!” Xavier Ryan swept me into a huge hug before I could anything. In fact, he grabbed me so tightly that I dropped my camera. Only Camille’s lightning-fast reflexes stopped it from falling to the ground.
“Oh, hey,” I squeaked out, resting my hand on his back. “Geez, you’re strong.”
He laughed and stepped back, running a hand through his thick, black hair. “Sorry. It’s just good to see you.”
“You too.” And it was. He was no longer the lean, slim kid from high school. He was bigger and bulkier than I remembered, and he’d lost whatever baby face he had when we’d graduated. His once-oval face was now sharp and chiseled.
“Lani’s working for the paper,” Camille said, giving me back my camera. “Can she ask you a couple questions?”
“Really?” Xavier’s attention flicked from Camille to me. “You are?”
“Yeah. I’m staying until Connie has the baby and need to keep busy.” I smiled and held up the camera and recorder. “Do you mind?”
He held his hands out and, with a smile, said, “Not at all. Hit me with it.”
“Okay. Let me get your picture first. Just stand normally and smile.” I took a few steps back, and when Xavier shot a stunning grin at my camera, I snapped his picture. I hit the button a couple more times, just in case. “That was great, thanks. Now, can you tell me why you’re running today?” I held the recorder up between us.
“I’m running for the police department,” he answered, half-smiling at me. “They want to start a program for troubled teens, but their overall funding just got cut. My grandparents have donated ten thousand dollars to kick start it.”
“What a great idea.” I meant it too. I didn’t remember there being many troubled teens on the Key, but there was every chance that had changed. “Thanks, Xavier.”
“Hey, I can see Raven by the start line.” Camille tied her hair back on top of her head. “I’ll catch up with you soon, okay?”
“I’m here all day.” I waved as she said goodbye to Xavier and disappeared into the throng of people.
“How long are you staying?” Xavier drew my attention back to him with his question.
That was rapidly becoming my least favorite question. “I’m really not sure. Maybe six months? I want to be here for Connie, but I don’t see myself staying here forever.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You sure? ‘Cause you look awfully comfortable here.”
I laughed. “It’s an act. I would actually rather be at home binging on Netflix right now. Besides, all the good being done from the donations today is making me forget why I really don’t like a lot of people.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Yeah, I get that. So the paper, huh? What do you do when you’re wherever you are these days?”
“Freelance journalism.” I half-smiled. “The traveling is fun.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
“How about you?”
He looked a little sheepish as he said, “Worked for my parents until I saved enough money for a deposit on a building. Now I own a gym.”
Involuntarily, my gaze darted across his upper body. Yeah. I could tell.
I coughed and stepped back when a light flush heated my cheeks. “Sorry. I’m apparently a little awkward today.”
Xavier grinned slowly. “Don’t worry about it. Hey—I’d love to put an ad in the paper. Do you have a card so I can call you this week?”
I pulled one out of the back pocket of my jean shorts and handed it to him between my fingers. “Smooth. Real smooth.”
His eyes sparkled as he took my card from my hand. “No idea what you mean.”
“Of course.”
“Xavier. How you doing?” Brett swept in from behind me and clapped Xavier on the back.
I blinked and stepped back, away from them both. “Who are you? Joey Tribiani?”
Brett shot me a dark look as Xavier returned the stupid manly back pat.
“Not bad, man. You?” Xavier said.
“All good. I’m afraid I need to steal Lani for a few minutes. Are you all done here?” Brett looked between us.
I pursed my lips.
“Yeah, we’re done, right?” Xavier looked at me. “Did you get everything you needed?”
I forced myself to smile. “Sure did. Thanks, Xavier. I’ll speak to you soon?”
“I’ll call you this week.” He winked as he stepped back and tucked my card into his pocket. “See ya, Brett.”
“Yeah.” Brett watched as Xavier disappeared into the crowd and then turned to me. “What the hell was that?”
“It’s called a friendly conversation. You should try it some time.” I shot him the bitchiest smile in my arsenal.
Brett’s jaw twitched. “You gave him your number?”
“No, I gave him my card. My number just happens to be on it.”
He grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the crowd. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, I yanked my arm out of his grip and jabbed my finger into his chest.