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“I’m shy.”
“Shy?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Didn’t you volunteer for a body double position? You also flirt with every guy on the set. I evensaw you giving eyes to Goldy.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You know, the security guard’s goldfish.”
She looked skyward. “I didn’t flirt with a fish, and I didn’t flirt with you.”
“You said I was the most amazing man on all nine continents and twelve planets.” He swept his hair out of his face. “What do you call that?”
“A brief brain hiatus,” she said grumpily. “But if you agree to my terms, we should do it.”
“I was going to propose the first date be tomorrow at Fantasy-Con. It’s a huge convention for comics, movies and television, sort of an alternate version of Comic-Con. It’s not private, but the entire cast is going so no one will realize we’re together.”
She paused. “I suppose that’ll work, as long as you don’t make it seem like a date.”
Even if they didn’t label it a date, they’d still spend the entire day with each other. He could learn about her and the true motivation behind her actions. Perhaps then, he could figure out the mystery that was Destiny Dane.
“Perfect.”
Most likely suspects:
John T. – Arrogant extra always talking to different women
Alan B. – Quiet prop assistant who seems atypically nervous
Kevin J. – Extra willing to do anything to further his career
Peter L. – An assistant’s assistant who wants more
Also, Jeff H., Colin C., Trevor D. on the crew and many of the extras
Cheyenne read the list of possible suspects, as she shifted sore muscles in the pleather bench seat. Her older, nondescript sedan cum makeshift office smelled like her last four drive-through meals and contained stacks of computer equipment behind heavily tinted windows. She currently perused three of those devices, yet the state-of-the-art machinery could not output the solution without input from her fieldwork.
At least she’d made some progress. She’d immediately weeded out the higher-level cast and crew, but that left all the extras, much of the crew and even some of the actors with bit parts. The criminals used a variety of personality types to act as recruiters, to make it more difficult to track them. The list was just a start. She would still need the criminal to make his move.
Cheyenne shut down the devices and shoved them into the secret compartment under the seat. She had chosen a relatively far parking spot to ensure no one saw her musings, but it would be a long walk to the convention center. She was about to exit the car when her phone rang. She didn’t bother to look.
She let it ring through to voicemail.
Then once more.
On the third try, she answered it.
The expected voice was there. “Please listen before you say no.”
“No”
“I deserve that, but I’m going to try anyway. Let’s meet for a cup of coffee.”
Though he couldn’t see her, Cheyenne shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. We can’t meet in a public place – your job and all – but that doesn’t mean we can’t see each other. I own a café, just a little place, and we could meet sometime. No one would see us.”
She faced hardened criminals without a thought, but now a cold sweat made her hands slippery. “I really can’t.” Yet the words were stilted, the fortitude behind them weathered and cracked. The true message belied the denial: I canandI want.
He knew.“Sure you can,” he pressed softly. “It’s just a cup of coffee, nothing more.” A loud breath and a pause. “I think about you every day. I’m trying to move on, to be better, to be the… the…”
Cheyenne held her breath.
“The person you deserve. To be some part of your life, however much you’ll let me. If you could spare just a few minutes…”