Page 2 of Developing Hearts (Pine Point Fixer-Uppers #5)

Chapter two

David

As always seemed to be the case, David was running very nearly late.

Of course, he hadn’t set an alarm, so in his mind, he was doing marvelously well, and he would have been early to the meeting if his espresso machine hadn’t thrown a fit at making so many coffees.

He wanted to make a good impression, so he’d bought disposable coffee cups and cardboard sleeves and these weird drink carrier things that took him entirely too long to put together the night before.

When he walked into the ground floor meeting room, he apologized straightaway. “I hope I didn’t keep you all waiting, but I come bearing gifts!” He’d used his back to push open the door, so he turned with a bit more flourish than was necessary, nearly sloshing coffee out onto the table.

His eyes scanned around, landing on each of the people seated at the table.

He’d been a fan of their channel back in the day—it was part of the reason that he bothered to apply at all—and even after the passage of time, he recognized the cast. Bunny, wearing a black, floral-patterned polo shirt.

Aras, tall and hawkish. Ozzy, all rich looks and muscles.

Evander, tawny skin and a blinding smile.

Jake, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and eyeing the coffee as much as he was eyeing David.

Robinson, slender and tucked into himself.

And Mason. Round cheeks and brassy hair in a perfect, swooping quiff and a smile just as wide as Evander’s. He stood and extended his hand across the table. “Hi. I’m Mason—”

“Oh, I know.” David extended his hand, then realized he was still holding coffee cups and set the two carriers down on the table before finally shaking Mason’s hand.

His skin was soft, but the tips of his fingers were a bit harder than the rest. Not quite what David would call calluses—he’d been with a guitar player or three in his time—but Mason clearly did some kind of work that used his fingertips specifically.

“I’m a big fan. Was a big fan. Well, hopefully I will be again, once the show comes out.

” He sighed and withdrew his hand. “You actually worked on my aunt and uncle’s house back when you were on VideoHead. Keith and Whitney Twine.”

“Oh really?” Mason’s smile somehow widened further. “That was a fun job. They mentioned they had a nephew that would come stay with them.”

David bowed, one hand to his chest, the other flourishing to the side.

“I would be the nephew.” When he straightened up, turned to the one unfamiliar face sitting at the table, a tiny, thin woman in a severe black suit that made her already pale skin look bleached. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize you.”

“Eliza Kaplan.”

“Oh, Eliza. You’re the one who reached out to me.”

“Yes.” She shook his hand as well. “I’m the show’s producer. I thought it would be nice to get everyone a job closer to home, since we’re wrapping up, and when you said that they’d worked for your aunt and uncle…kismet.”

David smiled. “All right, well I didn’t know how many coffees to bring to cover everyone, so I have twelve. All oat milk, no decaf. I can run up and get more if that’s not going to cut it.”

“I think we’re okay.” Mason nodded, then cleared his throat. “I have to ask, did you like the guest room setup we did? I…you know, we lived in Pine Point forever and you don’t look that much younger than us. I can’t believe we never crossed paths.”

“Well, small towns are still towns.” David saw someone approaching with a little black pack in hand and he shrugged off his sheer, magenta shawl, then spread his arms. “Wire me up however you need, good sir. I don’t have a boyfriend, so no jealous hubby to hunt you down for manhandling me.

” He sighed. “Unfortunately. For me, not for you.”

They attached the pack to the waistband of his slacks and fastened the mic to the neckline of his top.

“You probably don’t want to put that over-top thing back on.” Mason gestured to the shawl. “Fabric rubbing against the lav mics can wreck the sound.”

“Ah. How sad.” David sat down, resting the shawl across his lap instead and flexing his biceps as best he could.

“I would have worn something a bit more chaste had I known.” Which was a lie.

That shawl hid absolutely nothing, and he had plenty of tops he could wear that were neither sleeveless nor plunging.

“You can change. If you want.” Mason sat back down.

“Not that you need to, of course. I mean, I think you look good. Not I think. You look…everything is here for you to be comfortable. I mean…” He massaged the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths.

“Would you believe they actually want me to be the one doing the talking in these meetings?”

“Do you need medical attention there, bud?” Jake leaned forward, grinning at Mason. “You’re getting red in the face and your tongue doesn’t seem to work.”

Mason shook his head, but didn’t respond, instead turning to Eliza. “We can try that again, right? Don’t want to wreck the whole recording.” Then he turned his gaze to David. “Sorry. Guess I could use one of those lattes you so graciously brought down.”

He reached at exactly the same time as David reached, and it led to them almost crushing the cup between their hands. David pulled away and raised his hands in front of his chest. “You’ve got it. Don’t need me making a mess down here. Already done enough damage to my condo.”

Mason nodded and drank. “Right. I mean, I don’t know. Just…” He looked helplessly toward the camera crew at the back of the room. “Can one of you kill me, please? It’ll make big drama for the show and keep me from tripping over my own tongue.”