B-Roll to B-Sides: Older Man, Younger Woman Instalove Romance (PR Girls & Instalove Book 2)

by Haley Travis

  It was a sensible thought, but I had to wonder if he wasn’t also enjoying the close proximity. His knee bounced energetically against mine under the table, as he seemed to be studying my face.

  I’d also caught him noticing my breasts several times, but that couldn’t be helped. No matter what I wore, they couldn’t be missed.

  Anna brought us menus, raising her eyebrow at me. “I like the girls you usually meet here, but this is a nice surprise. A date that goes right through ‘til morning? Very sexy.”

  “We’re not–” I began, but she was already gone.

  “You come here with your girlfriends?” Owen asked, quickly flipping through the menu.

  “Yes, pretty much every Thursday for lunch.”

  “You don’t bring boyfriends here?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I’ve never...no.”

  “I’m glad to be your first,” he grinned.

  All of my life, I’ve gotten extremely annoyed whenever boys teased me. I didn’t understand why it was actually funny coming from Owen. His smile was so sexy that I felt my knee quivering against his.

  But I had to force myself to be professional. This was an important project. “My first documentary partner? Yes,” I said, skimming the menu. I’d actually memorized it long ago, but it gave my eyes something else to do instead of look at him.

  “The word ‘partner’ is in there,” he grinned. “That will do for now.”

  I felt myself blushing and couldn’t help it. Once I had a great coffee in my hand and an egg sandwich on the way, I felt a bit more steady.

  Owen was full of terrific ideas, and the two of us sketched out the framework of the project in just under an hour. We’d start with the invention of the forty-five in 1949, and how it took off thanks to the early fifties’ music scene.

  It was cheap and cheerful, the sort of trend that takes off and quickly becomes part of everyday life. Owen suggested using a few specific examples of popular records, and seemed stunned when I had the perfect examples already. He was also surprised that I knew the song title and artist’s name on every single tune that came on the jukebox, plus the b-side.

  “That’s the best part,” Owen said with a grin, dipping his last fry in ketchup. He must not eat fries very often to keep that rock hard body. “They’d have this song that they knew would be a huge hit, then they had to figure out what to pair it with. Another hit? Something very different to show off the artist’s range?”

  I nodded, pushing my plate away. “Yeah. I’ve always wondered if it was the artist or the record company who decided.”

  He nodded as Anna quickly cleared our plates and topped up our coffee. “So, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together while we work on this.” Owen turned toward me, slipping his arm along the back of the booth. He didn’t cage me in, but he was very close. “I think we’re going to have a great time.”

  “Sure,” I nodded quickly, pushing my hair back over my ears. “It’s a great topic. Tight timeline, but it’s going to be a short documentary. I think it’ll be fun.”

  “No, what I meant was, spending so much time together is going to be amazing. Brynn, you’re gorgeous. But the way you light up when you’re conjuring ideas is just...magical.”

  Holding back a snort, I shook my head. “Magical? That is one thing I’m definitely not.”

  His finger twirled a piece of hair just over my ear, making a ringlet, then setting it into place. How could he touch me so casually? And why did I love it so much? He was basically a total stranger, yet I needed to curl up in his arms.

  “I know we just met, and I don’t mean to make you nervous, but you feel this, don’t you?” Owen picked up my hand from the table, and held it against his heart.

  I couldn’t believe it. It was the most romantic first date gesture...but this wasn’t a date. My chin was tipping up and down anyway.

  “Take a breath, it’s okay,” he said softly, releasing my hand and leaning away from me. “I can see that you’re shy. Just tell me that you like me. Give me some hope.”

  His grin made it impossible not to nod, smiling back.

  “Great. Step A,” he chuckled. “Always good to establish that a team is headed in the right direction.”

  Sliding his arm back, his knee resumed brushing against mine as we finished our coffee, and made more notes. By the time he walked me back to the office, we had not only the documentary framework sketched out, but also a shortlist of places where we could shoot some b-roll to go under the voiceover at the beginning and end.

  As I turned to go into my office building, Owen slipped his arms around me. His hug was soft, as if he were afraid to break me. “I can’t wait to see you soon, Brynn.”

  Watching him walk to his car, it was difficult to tear my eyes from that sexy, confident stride and go inside.

  It took all of my concentration to type up our notes without becoming lost in the memory of the way Owen stared at me. No man had ever looked at me like that. The thrill that tingled through my shoulders just from thinking about it felt unnaturally electric.

  I’d never really dated before beyond a few hangouts with guys in college, but it never went anywhere. I just didn’t feel enough of a spark to make me want to get over the awkward bits, like forcing myself to really open up to them. Getting to know a guy and becoming close to him would make me feel anxious.

  With women, especially my friends, I was reasonably outgoing. But men were a completely different animal.

  By five-thirty, I had a rough draft of the fifteen-minute script, along with a loose framework of all the shots. I’d leave the details to Owen, but a rough list of the visuals along with the text was probably helpful for both of us.

  After I emailed it to him, I grabbed my purse and headed for the bus stop a block away. Owen was leaning on the front of his car in the parking lot, reading something on his phone while running a hand through his thick brown hair, messing it up perfectly.

  “This script is fantastic,” he said as I approached.

  “It’s a very rough draft,” I said quickly, knowing that I still had to perfect the wording in several places.

  His smile felt like it was burning straight through me. “If this is the rough draft, your boss is going to flip when he sees the final version.”

  “What are you doing back here?” I asked.

  “Picking you up.”

  My blank stare caused him to chuckle deeply. “Come on, get in.”

  His car was a lot fancier than I would have expected for a videographer who was currently shooting b-roll bits and pieces for a media company, but I kept my mouth shut.

  After driving for about ten minutes, Owen pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall.

  “Where are we?” I asked, looking around for a clue.

  “We’re shooting some footage, but also hanging out and having a drink,” he said.

  Owen rushed around to help me out of the car, keeping an arm around my waist as he grabbed a camera bag from the backseat.

  Looking around, the store signs listed a dry cleaner, a pawn shop, and a sign for a bowling alley. Owen led me to the door decorated with dancing bowling pins. The alley must have been underground, but the closed sign was hanging prominently at eye level.

  He knocked three times, and then a few moments, an elderly man climbed up the stairs to let us in.

  “Thanks, Arthur,” Owen said, shaking the man’s hand. “This is Brynn.”

  Arthur shook my hand warmly, his eyes crinkling when he smiled. “Now I see why he needed a perfect date spot immediately.”

  “We’re actually shooting a documentary. I need some fifties footage,” Owen explained.

  “Well, we’ve got the place for that,” Arthur said, leading us down the stairs.

  As we turned the corner at the bottom, I gasped. Owen slipped his arm around my waist, giving me a little squeeze. “It’s perfect, right?”

  It really was. A three-lane bowling alley decked out in full mid-fifties splendor, f
rom the hand-painted mural along one side to the black and white floor tiles near the soda fountain counter.

  “This is amazing,” I said, tipping my face up to smile at Owen just as he was leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Well...I needed to take you somewhere you’d never been before for our first date,” he smiled.

  “I thought we were working.” I didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but it was strange how he was so familiar with me so quickly.

  “Can’t it be both?”

  He led us to the benches at the first lane, and pulled out his camera. “We can shoot some fifties footage while getting to know each other,” he said. “They’re closed on Wednesdays, but I know Arthur from a music video I shot here last year. Once I told him how beautiful you are, and that it was a dating emergency, he said we could have the run of the place for the night.”

  Looking around, I couldn’t believe this was happening. It really was an excellent date spot, and I almost wished we didn’t have to work while we were here. On the other hand, it would give me something to talk about and focus on so that I didn’t get nervous.

  Arthur was setting out some pretzels and chips on the bar. “Can I get you folks a drink?”

  Once I had a glass of white wine and Owen had a beer, Arthur said, “I’ll be back in an hour or so to see if you need anything else. Or help yourself and let me know whatever you took later. I’ll be in the back office catching up on those confounded taxes.”

  “Wow,” I said after taking a sip of wine, “This is surprisingly good. It’s also amazing that he just lets you take over the whole alley.”

  “See?” Owen said, taking a swig of his beer. “That’s proof that I’m very trustworthy.”

  I laughed with him, then we started setting up a few shots around the room. He was easy to work with, and I adored his habit of speaking very quickly when he was excited.

  It was also endearing how he stopped to stare at me constantly. He seemed genuinely infatuated with me, which was ridiculous. But it made my heart bounce around my chest awkwardly.

  If he was treating this like a date instead of a work session, what was he going to expect at the end of the night?

  4

  _____

  Owen

  Brynn was an absolute dream to work with. Maybe it was a bit sneaky of me, but I wanted to spend both social and work time with her immediately, to fast forward our relationship.

  I’ve always found that you can tell a lot from a person by how they react to a project, and how they target problems. When we found a great shot, but the background was too busy, Brynn simply moved some chairs around to clear an open space.

  She grabbed a damp cloth from behind the bar to polish a slightly dusty antique lamp. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. Brynn also listened well, and had many helpful ideas.

  She was clearly a bit taken aback by the way I was openly pursuing her romantically. But once we started shooting and she had something to direct her attention on, Brynn loosened right up and became chatty.

  Just watching her delicate fingers tuck her hair behind her ear made my stomach clench. She was so precious, so sweetly feminine, that I was totally infatuated.

  After a few short and annoying relationships in my early twenties, I decided not to waste my time with women who were too uptight to let themselves have fun.

  Watching Brynn singing along with an old song, doing the twist for a second during the chorus, I just knew that we were meant to be together.

  Setting my camera down on the table, I took her hand, and we danced along with the rest of the song. Her creamy skin became slightly flushed as she looked up at me, as my arm circled her waist to pull her close.

  “Is this normal?” she asked softly as the song ended.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…we only met this morning. And we’re working together. It’s just, you seem so…” She paused, biting her lip and looking down at her shoes.

  Placing a fingertip on her chin, I tilted her face up to mine. “I think the word you’re looking for is smitten,” I said gently. “Sweetheart, it’s not just that you’re gorgeous. Every single thing about you makes me smile.”

  She shook her head, giggling sweetly. “See, that’s what I mean. It’s not really normal to say things like that, is it?”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “I think people should run with their instincts more. Don’t you?”

  She shrugged, and I could see that she was becoming timid again.

  “I know what we need,” I said quickly, grabbing my camera and setting it up to point against the wall beside the old jukebox. I hit record, then took her hand, selecting a slow song on the way by.

  Cuddling her against me, the electricity between us was indescribable. I loved the way her long lashes fluttered as she looked up at me.

  “Owen, this is nice, but I don’t think I want to be in the documentary.”

  “I was thinking of a silhouette shot,” I explained. “Over contrasted so that we’re just shadows. Unrecognizable.”

  “Then you should get a model for your girl,” she said quickly. “I’m not…”

  I leaned down, cutting her off as I brushed my lips tenderly against hers. “Is this all right?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” she breathed, and I felt her stretching up, hoping that I’d kiss her again.

  Pulling us tightly together, our bodies moved as one, hips shifting to the music as our mouths slowly melted together. The feelings I had for this sweet, seductive girl were already too strong, but when she made a faint noise against my lips, I felt my lust kick in completely.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, “How can you feel this good?”

  “Magic, sweetheart,” I murmured, rubbing our noses together until she giggled. She was so soft and girlish that it drove me crazy.

  By the time the song ended, her breasts were pressed tightly against my chest, as my hands wandered all over her hips and ass, appreciating her delicious curves.

  “We should get back to work,” she said, stepping back a few inches. I already missed the feeling of her fingers on the back of my neck.

  “Relax,” I said, “Unless you have to be somewhere, we have all night. We still have to bowl a little, too.”

  Brynn’s eyes widened, the deep blue circles looking surprised. “Seriously? I’ve never bowled before.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “What’s your shoe size?”

  I turned off the camera, and we went to the shoe rental area, outfitting us both with the traditional tacky footwear.

  After I set up the lane, I coached her on throwing the ball, where to stand, and explained how the points completely did not count on a person’s first game.

  I loved how easily she laughed, and the way she swung her skirt back and forth in time to the latest bouncy song.

  It was admirable that she didn’t even pout when her first several shots were gutter balls. Then to the absolute surprise of both of us, she suddenly got a strike.

  “Oh my God!” she squealed. “What did I do, and how do I do that again?”

  Coming over to stand behind her, I guided her through the motion of throwing steadily while shifting her hips to the left so her right arm could stay straight.

  “You shimmied with the song, so your shot was smooth,” I explained, guiding her through the motions. “Try it again.

  After a few spares and a lot of laughing, Brynn blocked my path as I went to take a turn. “Thank you, Owen,” she said with a smile. “ I know I’m a bit quiet, but…you’re really nice, and I appreciate you giving me a chance.”

  Pulling her to me, I caressed her lower back, our mouths gravitating to each other as we softly kissed.

  There was something about Brynn that made me want to be gentle, so that I would never frighten her. I knew that some women were afraid of big guys, but I needed her to know that I would be nothing but sweet with her.

  The lights went down gradually as another slow song came on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw
Arthur leaving the room, grinning to himself.

  “Is that his signal that we’re supposed to leave?” Brynn asked.

  “I think it’s the sign that he’s not going to disturb us,” I said, slipping my hand into the hair at the back of her neck to cradle her head as I kissed her again.

  It was strange to have so many feelings overloading my system for a girl I barely knew. Protecting her, caring for her, making sure she was happy – my mind was already flooded with images of all of the next steps of our lives.