A Man of His Word. Merline Lovelace
the be-ringed nostrils to the statuesque, ebony-skinned six-footer who toted camera bags over each shoulder and sported a turquoise T-shirt with Through a Lens Lightly emblazoned in glittering gold across her magnificent chest. The guy with the earphones draped around his neck like stethoscopes was obviously the soundman. The mousy little female beside him had to be the gofer no crew could operate without, Reece’s included.
But it was the writer-director who drew every eye in the café. Reece’s included.
She was laughing at something one of her crew had said. The sound flowed across the room like rich, hot fudge. Her hair looked like chocolate fudge, too, shining and thick and brushed free of the dust and scraggly tangles that had snarled it this morning.
She still wore her boots and baggy fatigue pants. This time, however, she’d paired them with a short-sleeved black top in some clingy material that showed every line and curve of her upper body. The erotic image Reece had conjured up of her earlier popped instantly into his mind. To his disgust, he couldn’t quash the startlingly erotic picture as easily as he had before.
He wasn’t the only one whose thoughts had focused on Sydney. Arlene Chavez sat with both hands folded into fists in her lap, her lips white at the corners as she took in the director’s laughing vitality. Her husband, too, had his eyes locked on the striking brunette.
“Well, well, little Syd’s all grown-up.”
Jamie’s murmur was almost lost in the boisterous group’s arrival. Reece caught it, though. So did Arlene. Her gaze wrenched away from the newcomers, and her face filled with such anguish that Reece’s heart contracted.
Dammit! Couldn’t Chavez see his wife’s pain and insecurity?
Evidently not. The man’s eyes lit with a gleam that was part predatory and wholly admiring. Tossing his paper napkin onto the table, Jamie rose and strolled forward to intercept the group.
“Sydney?”
“Yes?”
She turned with a look of inquiry that jolted into surprise. Surprise flowed almost instantly into a polite greeting.
“Hello, Jamie.”
He took the hand she offered in both of his. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, it has.” She freed her hand, eyeing him with the slanting assessment of a person who made her living in the visual arts. “You haven’t changed much.”
It could have been meant as a compliment or a condemnation. Jamie chose to grin and turn her words back on her.
“You have.”
“I’m glad you recognize that fact.”
“I heard you almost drove off a cliff last night.”
She shook her head, half amused, half exasperated. “Things always did get around fast in this town.”
“I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.” His grin faded. “I also heard your father died. I’m sorry, Syd. He was a good man.”
From where Reece sat, it was impossible to miss the change that came over her. She seemed to soften around the edges. Her green eyes grew luminous, her full mouth curved with a genuine warmth.
“Yes, he was.”
They shared a small silence, two people bound by the memory of someone they’d both known.
Arlene broke the moment. Rising abruptly with a jerky movement that rattled the glasses and cutlery on the table, she crossed the room to slip her hand into the crook of her husband’s arm.
“Is this the famous Sydney Scott I’ve heard so much about? Why don’t you introduce us, darling?”
“This is the one,” Jamie replied with unruffled charm. “Arlene, meet Sydney. Syd, this is my wife, Arlene.”
Reece wondered how the moviemaker would handle the awkward situation. So did everyone else in the café. Lula had both elbows on the service window behind the counter, her brown eyes wide. A few of the other local patrons whispered and nudged and nodded in the direction of the threesome. Even the noisy crew Sydney had come in with picked up on the buzz and turned curious eyes on their boss.
To her credit she gave the other woman an easy smile. “I don’t know about the famous part, but I am Sydney. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Arlene couldn’t let it go there. With her arm still tucked in her husband’s, she knifed right to the heart of the matter. “I understand you and my husband were once, shall we say, close friends.”
A hush fell over the café. Sydney’s ripple of laughter filled the void. “I made a fool of myself over him, you mean. I suppose most girls go through that gawky, hopelessly romantic stage. Thankfully we grow out of it sooner or later.”
“Do we?”
“Well, I did, anyway.” Her gaze flickered to the fingers Arlene had dug into Jamie’s arm. She gentled her voice, as if understanding the woman’s need for reassurance. “A long time ago.”
Reece stiffened. That was exactly the wrong thing to say around a man like Jamie Chavez. Reece had only met the younger Chavez a few times, but he’d worked with enough men to recognize the type. Handsome, wealthy, restless, chafing a little at having to work with and for his father, despite the fact that he would inherit the vast Chavez ranching and timber empire someday.
That much had been apparent to Reece a few months ago, the night Sebastian Chavez had invited him out to the ranch for drinks and a discussion of the pending dam-repair project. Chavez doted on his only son. He’d displayed a wall of glass cases filled with Jamie’s sports trophies and bragged about his keen competitive spirit in both school and business. The bighorn sheep and mountain cat trophies mounted on the den walls, all bagged by Jamie, also indicated someone who loved the thrill of the hunt.
And now a woman who admitted to having made a fool of herself over him laughingly claimed she’d grown out of the infatuation years ago. If Reece had been a betting man, he’d put money on the odds that Jamie would shake loose from his wife’s hold…which he did. And that he’d make a move on Sydney…which he now tried to do.
“Not much changes around Chalo Canyon, Syd, even in ten years, but I’d be glad to take you up in my chopper and let you reacquaint yourself with the area. Maybe you can get some shots of the ruins from the air for your documentary.”
“I don’t think your father would appreciate that, Jamie. He specifically denied me and my crew access to the canyon rim through his land.”
Disgusted, Reece lifted his beer. Nothing like telling the man that his daddy was the one calling the shots around here. Didn’t she realize that was like waving a red flag in front of a young bull?
His arm froze with the bottle halfway to his mouth. Maybe she did. Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.
Dammit, he’d wanted to believe her this morning when she’d said she’d come back to Chalo Canyon for one reason only. Now…
“I chopper my own aircraft,” Jamie said with a tight smile. “I take up who I want, when I want, where I want.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need aerial shots. Or access through Chavez land. I’ve made other arrangements.”
The wrenching heartbreak on Arlene’s face as she listened to the byplay between her husband and the moviemaker brought Reece out of his chair. Her expression reminded him so much of his mother’s anguish that dark February night. He was still telling himself he was a fool to get involved when he joined the small group.
“Speaking of arrangements, we agreed to get together tonight, remember?”
He kept the words casual, but the lazy glint in his eyes when he looked down at Sydney implied they’d agreed to get together to talk about more than arrangements. To reinforce the impression, Reece aimed a smile her way.
After