Caught on Camera

by Law, Kim

  He wanted her to buy him.

  And she wanted to.

  Right. She closed her eyes and mentally flung her head from side to side as a cartoon character might do to clear the cobwebs. What she needed more than anything else was attention from the media, so why not just waltz right up and make an exorbitant bid for the main attraction? She snorted.

  “What’s with you?” Darrin asked.

  “What’s what with me?” She glanced down at him. She stood on a riser, the camera attached to a tripod to get the best view of the crowd. Her position put her a good eight inches above him. He stepped one foot beside hers and brought himself up next to her.

  “You’re all weird tonight.” He motioned to her hair. She’d secured the majority with combs, while flat-ironing what was left to within an inch of its life. The part that wasn’t twisted up on the sides reached the middle of her back, and Darrin had been staring at it all night. “Your hair is different, not in that ponytail thing you always wear. And your clothes aren’t as baggy. You keep mumbling to yourself, and now you’re snorting. What’s going on?”

  She eyed him. “Do you have a problem with the way I look?”

  “What I think about your looks isn’t important.” He scanned her body, and she heated with embarrassment under his perusal. “But, yeah, you look great. Your face is a little plain still, but even then, you’re hot. So what’s the deal?”

  Hot? Her stomach rolled. Just what she needed, Darrin thinking she was hot. She turned her back to him and peered through the camera. Magically, it found JP, and he was scowling at her. He’d done that several times throughout the evening.

  “I felt like doing something different with my hair,” she finally answered, her back still to Darrin.

  “And the clothes?”

  It was just black slacks and a white top. She shrugged. It didn’t matter that she’d spent the morning out shopping for them. “We always dress nicer for formal events.”

  “And you always remain baggy. Seriously, if I’d known your ass was so fine, I’d have asked you out years ago.”

  Vega swiveled around and did her best to shoot daggers with her eyes. “And I would have said no, same as I would today.”

  “Right.” He grew quiet, and Vega returned to watch JP. He was now talking to some gorgeous woman. He smiled and gave the woman a one-armed hug. She stood there fluttering her hands around, touching him way more than she should, while Vega’s blood pressure neared boiling.

  “Check out that babe with Davenport,” Darrin stated.

  She ignored him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off JP. A few minutes later he left the woman’s side and exited the room.

  Good. Maybe he’d stay out for a while. She turned to Darrin. “I need to speak to Cat and Mrs. Davenport for a few minutes.”

  He nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

  They made their way across the floor with Vega keeping one eye out for JP’s return. She wanted to express her thanks for their interviews and hospitality, as well as wish them well, but had felt keeping her distance from JP was equally prudent. Since she wouldn’t be doing as he suggested and bidding on him, no additional conversations with the man had seemed necessary for the evening.

  She hated that she hadn’t won him over on the interview, but after the strength of what filled her every time she was near him, both physically and emotionally, she needed to get away from him anyway.

  “Vega.” Cat rose from her seat.

  The women hugged a hello, but JP’s mother had stepped away before Vega made it across the floor. Instead, Governor Chandler stood by the table.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Governor.” Vega nodded at the man as she and Darrin stood within their small circle.

  “I wanted to tell you, Vega,” Cat began. “We appreciate the extra effort you’ve gone to this weekend. We get decent coverage from the local stations, but having a bit more devoted attention always brings in even more money. So thank you.”

  Vega blushed under her praise while at the same time ignoring Darrin’s evil stare. He’d gone with her the day before to the luncheon, but, again, hadn’t stuck around longer than was necessary for a short interview. Vega had stayed, questioning many of the participants afterward and generally beefing up the story to highlight the foundation more than she’d originally done.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “Since we’re in town specifically to cover the events for the foundation, we’ve simply had more time than our local affiliate, is all.”

  “Well, we all appreciate it,” the governor spoke up this time. He was a good-looking man, both powerful and charming. “The Davenports are one of the oldest families of the state, and they do terrific things through their foundation. More coverage can only help.”

  At sixty-two, Governor Chandler had been in politics for thirty years. Though he’d lost his wife—a favored “Southern belle” from an old Atlanta family—over ten years earlier, his popularity hadn’t dampened one bit. In fact, he’d gone on to secure his position in the last election with an overwhelming lead and didn’t look to be stopping anytime soon.

  “I wonder,” Darrin chimed in, using his on-air voice. “As governor, do you think your support for the Davenports help keep them on the map?”

  “Son.” Governor Chandler shook his head. “If that’s what you believe, you might want to read back through history. My support behind this good family likely does nothing but help me out.” He chuckled. “The Davenports don’t need me speaking for them. They’re a dynasty all on their own.”

  “Of course.” Darrin’s face blanched of color, but he wisely chose to say nothing else.

  “Ah,” the governor’s voice changed to one of more familiarity. “Here’s the lady of the evening now.”

  Vega smiled as Emma Davenport stepped into the group. It was clear she was a force. She wore the air of a gentle Southern woman, but the hold of her shoulders and steel in her gaze proved she was so much more. Few tried to get anything over on her, and even fewer succeeded. “Tsk, tsk, Douglas. Don’t be telling such fibs. This is Cat’s night. She’s the one who’s done all the work.”

  “Oh, right,” Cat said, giving her mother a quick hug. She was the complete opposite. Sturdy and strong, yes—she’d had to be as a widow and single mother to two young children—but the sharp edges of the older Davenport were missing. Cat was warm and open whereas her mother was all business. She was the typical Southern mom. “I may have worked hard, but Mom is the backbone. Without her none of this could happen.”

  There was clear love but also admiration for the matriarch of the family.

  “Cat, dear, you must want something out of me to be handing out such accolades so freely. I’ll be sure to keep my eye on you this evening.”

  “I don’t know,” Governor Chandler said. “I think she’s right on target, Emma. You hold everything together far better than I would guess Jackson Sr. ever imagined.”

  Mrs. Davenport’s eyes dimmed for the briefest second as she no doubt relived some fond memory of her husband. The couple had lived out a romantic fantasy in the eyes of the country for over thirty years, until his untimely death six years earlier, only four months after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

  “Douglas,” she said, patting his arm. “You, too, are such the flatterer, but I assure you, I am not the right target this evening. My son is the one you should be buttering up to. He’s the one who’ll soon make you proud. Jackson will be a great leader. Exactly like his father.”

  The conversation turned to JP and his political future, but Vega didn’t miss the gleam of yearning in Governor Chandler’s eyes as he snuck in a long look in Emma’s direction. So the governor had a thing for JP’s mom? Interesting.

  She wondered if that meant Emma returned the sentiment.

  Taking in the sturdy, no-nonsense lady, Vega would guess either she had no idea of his desires, or she was determined to squash them.

  “Now tell me, dear,” Mrs. Davenport began, turning to V
ega. “What is it you’ve done to my son in such a short time as to beguile him with you?”

  Vega’s eyes grew wide as the entire group turned to her. JP was most definitely not beguiled by her, but that didn’t stop everyone from staring.

  The governor studied her, likely trying to figure out if she was good enough to fit in with the Davenports. Mrs. Davenport’s expression remained pleasant but closed down to the point that Vega couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. And Cat smiled the smile of a new friend.

  Darrin’s eyes narrowed into slits of jealousy.

  Ignoring all but Emma, Vega turned to her. “Thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Davenport, but I certainly wouldn’t say I’ve beguiled anyone.”

  “Please.” Mrs. Davenport waved her hand in the air in front of her, the diamonds of the wedding ring she still wore flashing with the movements. “Call me Emma. There’s no need to be so formal. And do make sure you step out from behind that camera long enough to enjoy the auction tonight. We have so many fabulous items up for bid. Maybe you can find a nice souvenir to take home to Savannah that interests you.”

  Vega didn’t meet the questioning look she could sense Darrin throwing her way. He wanted to know how she’d become such “good friends” with the Davenports, but it was none of his business that she’d had dinner at Cat’s house the night before. “Thank you, Emma. We’ll make sure and do that. I’ve heard such positive feedback from this event over the years, I’m just thrilled to be part of it tonight. And don’t worry, if I bid on anything, I’ll still make sure you get excellent coverage for the foundation.”

  “No doubt you will,” Evan Martens spoke as he joined the group. She’d met Evan briefly after the golf tournament two days before. He was quite the player and had tried out more than one line on her. She had passed on all of them.

  He stopped slightly behind her now, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. He was good-looking with his short dark hair and obviously fit body, but all his polish and shine didn’t hold a flicker to JP’s hotness.

  Before she could begin to dwell on Mr. Hot himself, or all that had happened between them at dinner the night before, she shut the memories down.

  “Good evening, Evan,” Emma said, the look on her face not entirely welcoming.

  He gave a quick nod. “Mrs. Davenport, Governor. It’s good to see everyone tonight.”

  Evan stepped farther into the circle as the conversation picked back up, closing the distance between him and Vega. He touched a hand to the small of her back, and she cut her eyes to him, wondering what he was up to, but didn’t want to be so rude as to call attention to his too-personal manner.

  The group chatted while Vega attempted to put a small bit of distance between her and Evan. She then took the opportunity to merely observe, joining the conversation only if asked a direct question. Unlike Darrin, who jumped in at every available opportunity.

  She would prefer to excuse herself completely, feeling both out of her realm and perfectly at ease at the same time, but couldn’t bring herself to step away. Doing so meant she would need to make the phone call she’d been avoiding all day. Her boss had left a message earlier, wanting to ensure the interview was a go.

  JP entered the room at that moment and caught her eye, causing her breath to stick in her throat. She hadn’t talked to him since she’d practically run from his arms and preferred to keep it that way.

  With any luck, he’d head in another direction. She watched him take in the crowd around her, then land on Evan standing to her side. The lack of distance between them seemed to be what JP’s gaze fastened on.

  In the next instant, his powerful legs propelled him in their direction.

  “If you all will excuse me,” Vega murmured. It was time to make that phone call.

  She moved to a quiet corner of the room and turned her back to the crowd. Bob would be disappointed she hadn’t managed to secure the interview, but updating him now was a better use of her time than sticking around to talk to JP.

  Pulling out her cell, she punched in the number with jittery fingers. She’d hung everything on this chance, and now she had to admit she couldn’t pull it off. She would be stuck following Darrin around forever.

  “WSAN, Felicia speaking.”

  “Hey, Licia, it’s Vega. Is Bob around tonight?”

  Bob Barker—her boss, not the game show host—soon came on the line, his voice booming and comforting, all at the same time. “Vega. How’s it going? What have you gotten on Davenport so far?”

  Gotten on him? She squinted as if doing so would help her see through the phone and into the man’s head. “Sir? As in something juicy? That wasn’t what I’d planned to do.”

  “Sure, sure,” he said. “You planned a day-in-the-life feature piece, I know. And the Atlanta station will love that, too. But he’s a politician, Vega.” Bob’s voice lowered, taking on a more fatherly tone. She’d worked for the station for six years, and from day one Bob had taken her under his wing almost as the father she’d lost as a teenager. “Don’t forget that. He can’t be as clean as he appears. Even if it’s simply that he skimps on Christmas bonuses or refuses to put up a tree at the office. Anything you get, no matter how minor, will be golden.”

  “Yeah.” She gulped. “About that.” Vega caught sight of Darrin out of her peripheral vision. He was eyeing her as if she were editing footage to show only his bad side.

  “What about it? You need more time? Sure. We expected that. You just let us know how much time you need, and you’ve got it.”

  “But…” Something about his voice sounded like they didn’t even need her back at the station. “I thought I had assignments waiting for me for Monday. Shouldn’t I hurry back?”

  She wondered what she was doing by dragging out the facts. She needed to just lay it on the line that she’d failed. She couldn’t get the interview. But in the silence, she also picked up on a strange tension crackling over the distance.

  “Bob?” She hated the unsure tone of her voice.

  “The orders came down, Vega,” Bob said, his voice now grave. “We definitely have cuts. Unless I can get you in front of the camera, I can’t use you as a video journalist any longer, kid. I’m sorry.”

  “Bob, come on,” she pleaded. She was about to not only fail to secure the job she wanted in Atlanta, but also lose the one in Savannah? She couldn’t let that happen. “I’m your best photographer.”

  “Honey, you plan to get the Atlanta job and move there anyway. It’s what you want, remember? This is why I went to bat for you with them.”

  She felt the spirit drain out of her. The past couple of days around the Davenports and covering events in the city had given her more life than she’d had in years, and now she wasn’t only losing the chance for that, she was losing the pitiful existence she’d made for herself in Savannah as well.

  For once she’d like to just say “screw you” to everybody and go for what she really wanted instead of worrying about the crap some jerk had once done to her.

  “You do have the interview, right?” Bob suddenly sounded worried for her. “Tell me you got it.”

  She couldn’t admit it. Not just yet. The time would come when she had to, but not right after he’d fired her. She’d finish this assignment feeling as if she had some shred of dignity. Instead of admitting what a complete failure she was, she smiled, trying to force happiness through the phone. “Of course, everything is lined up. I just assumed I’d have to come back home and finish the interview later next week, is all. I thought I was needed back there first.”

  “I’m sorry, hon. My hands are tied. We can keep you on a couple weeks, but getting this interview wrapped is important for you. Unless you want to change your mind about being on camera…”

  She shook her head even though he couldn’t see the movement. They’d had that conversation many times already, and he knew her stance on being in front of the camera.

  He let out a sigh. “Okay, then. They’re still holding the other po
sition for you, so focus on that. We can make do here without you.”

  Before she could come up with anything else to say, someone on the other end called out, and Bob had to go. She closed the phone and slipped it inside the pocket of her slacks.

  Her life was in shambles, and at the moment she wanted nothing more than to climb under her covers and turn the world back thirteen years. Back before her father had been killed in a drug bust, and back before she’d been sold the line of crap that modeling would be the best thing to ever happen to her.

  Wanting to escape from it all, she crossed her fingers that no one was paying any attention to her and slipped through the side door.

  She found herself in a hallway. Able to make out people laughing and talking at the far end of the corridor, she hurried in the opposite direction until she found another turn, this path deserted and leading to large windows overlooking the Atlanta skyline.

  Reaching the windows, she stepped to the side and squeezed between a five-foot potted plant and glass that appeared to glitter from the city lights twinkling on the other side of it. She needed to get her head wrapped back around the job she was here to do, and not the fact it would be the last job she ever did for the station. Possibly for any station.

  Maybe it was time to take a step back and come up with a real plan. Something exciting.

  At the thought of exciting, she pictured JP.

  Breathing in and out through her nose, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the cool glass, picturing him as he’d been the night before. At first arrogant and certain he could literally charm the pants off her, then coming into the kitchen to apologize and ending up helping her with the dishes. She rolled her forehead back and forth against the glass. She couldn’t figure out who he was.

  Then the night had ended with him practically begging her to go out with him. Who would’ve ever thought that possible? She couldn’t get over his actions, especially in the kitchen and playing with his niece and nephew. Those were not the actions of the man the world thought he was.