Page 10 of Wild Valentine
“Thank you,” I say.
He hands me a key, and our fingers touch briefly. A spark leaps from his hand onto mine, and I pull back at the shock of it. My gaze darts to his, and he’s looking at me with a new intensity.
He felt it too.
Whateveritwas.
Did I just experience some kind of animal attraction? My curious mind goes into overdrive, and I long to touch him again to see if it happens again.
“WiFi password’s on the fridge. One of the rooms is made up, and there are spare towels in the bathroom.”
I don’t get the opportunity to test my hypothesis about the spark because Marcus turns and strides to the main cabin, taking the last of my hopes with him. So much for using my feminine wiles to get him to talk. This story is dead in the water.
After dumping my luggage, I give Mom a call. She’s doing well, she tells me, and feeling stronger. She even went out for a walk earlier. I’m pleased to hear that. It makes me feel better about being away from her for a few days.
She wants to know all about the mountain and the artist, and I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s not going well.
Instead, I tell her about the MC clubhouse and the cute cabin, leaving out the bit about the grumpy owner.
After we walk, I make the call I’ve been dreading.
Scott picks up on the first ring.
“Tell me good news, Hazel.”
I bite my lower lip.
“He’s not gonna talk, Scott. It’s a flat out no. I may as well fly back tonight.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line, and I hold my breath.
“Not acceptable.”
I hang my head. I hate letting him down, but I don’t see how I’m going to get the story without Marcus.
“I’ve spoken to some of the other club members. It’s amazing what they’ve got going on here. There’s a young man…”
“Is he an artist?”
Scott’s words are clipped.
“No.”
“Then I’m not interested. Get Marcus to speak. It’s his story I want. The veteran artist whose tortured soul comes out in his work. It’s going front page for Memorial Day weekend. It’ll make him famous; he’ll sell a ton of pieces and makes loads of money. Have you told him that?”
“I don’t think he wants…”
“People always want something,” Scott says in what’s supposed to be a wise tone.
“I don’t think he’s going to change his mind, Scott.”
“You better hope he does, Hazel. You want to be writing up gallery reviews forever? Because that’s what you’ll be doing if you don’t get this story. And if I’ve wasted three day’s worth of expenses flying you there, it’s grounds for firing.”
His words hit me like a blow to the chest. I thought I might risk not getting a promotion, but losing my job…
“You can’t do that.” But I’m not sure that’s true. IfCulture Slamwants to get rid of someone, they’ll find a way.
“I need journalists who can get me a story, Hazel. You’re no good on my team if you can’t do that.”
