Chapter 26Janie

Chapter 26 Janie

I pulled up to a half-empty parking lot overlooking the ocean. “This is it, I think. I’ll just double check Gus’s message.”

As I mentioned the filmmaker’s name, the crease on Emir’s forehead reappeared. “I can’t see his Hyundai.”

“How do you remember his car?”

He shrugged. “I just do.”

After a moment, we spotted the car approaching us. “Promise me you’ll behave.”

His face softened. “I don’t like him, but I’ll be civil.”

I blew out a breath, reaching for the door handle. “Good enough. I don’t like him either, but he has major GAS and we can use that to our advantage.”

“GAS?”

“Gear acquisition syndrome,” I clarified. “It’s a common condition within the film and TV industry.”

My heart leapt as a short laugh rumbled out of him. “I thought it was short for gaslighting as that seemed to be his special talent.”

I burst out in full laughter, still holding onto the door handle. This was too good. I didn’t care how stupid the jokes were, or at whose expense. All I cared about was that connection between us.

We met Gus by his vehicle. His collar shirt seemed fresh out of a packet, with the creases from folding still visible.

“Hello, Gus!” I shook his hand. “Thank you for meeting us. Are you ready to go or do you want to grab coffees?”

“Hi!” Gus smiled back, until he noticed Emir behind me. “Oh. I didn’t realize you brought… who’s he again?”

I forced my smile a little wider and voice chirpier. “Emir’s helping out at the farm and offered to get some B-roll.”

“What kind of camera do you have?” Gus glared at Emir.

“Black one,” Emir deadpanned, and I had to engage my entire core, Pilates-style, to stop from cracking up in snort-laughter.

Gus rolled his eyes unappreciatively. “I meant the make and model, but whatever.”

“It’s good enough,” Emir said evasively, gesturing at the cars. “Shall we?”

Gus wouldn’t budge. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, his voice turning into a reprimanding drone. “I know you’re trying to be clever or whatever, but I’m only asking since Janie said she’ll edit. That means she’ll have to match your footage to mine and deal with the different ratios and frame rates and completely different color profiles.”

Emir raised an eyebrow. “It’s B-roll. She can take it or leave it. Shall we?” He took a step towards my car.

Gus folded his arms, sticking out his chin. “I have to say I’m not entirely comfortable—”

“Would you like to grab coffees before we leave?” I asked again, quite forcefully.

My stomach punctuated my words with an audible growl. With all the party crafts, we’d lived on undercooked muffins. Coffee might help.

Gus’s face brightened. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Ignoring Emir’s frown, I led us to the nearest cafe along the beach road.

Emir followed at our heels like a hovering bodyguard, stopping to wait at the doorway of the cafe. I ordered a flat white for him as well. I could feel his eyes on me, piercing and protective, just like before, but it no longer made me nervous. As mortifying as it was to admit, it excited me. Like I’d tamed a dragon who everyone else feared. He was mine. He’d never hurt me.

“So, you’ve got yourself a WWOOFer?”

I jerked at Gus’s question. I was familiar with WWOOF, a local organization that connected travelers with organic farms, to work for room and board.

“I suppose it’s hard to find people who work for free AND speak decent English,” he continued. “Where is he from, anyway?”

“He’s Turkish, but he’s not a tourist. A friend of a friend.”

“Turkish, huh?” Gus rubbed his beard. “Heavy smoker?”

“No.”

His eyebrows shot up. “For real? Never met a Turk who didn’t smoke.”

I shrugged. “Well, now you have.”

“I quit two months ago. Makes it harder to keep the weight off, but I guess it’s better for my health.” Gus adjusted his belt, tucking the shirt a little tighter over the bulge.

“For sure. How did you do it?” I asked, grateful for a safe topic.

“Willpower.” He thrust out his chest, grabbing his coffee without a thank you.

Picking up the rest of the coffees and sandwiches, I thanked the barista for the both of us and gestured at the door. “Wow. No hypnosis? Not even gum? You must have amazing willpower.”

He put on a self-deprecating act. “Well, gum doesn’t count, right?”

As we reached the cars, I snuck another look at Emir over my shoulder, and caught him staring at me with such adoring eyes my stomach flipped. Oh, God. I searched for the sense of panic, but only felt that wobbly flip-flopping of my insides, like my organs were playing musical chairs.

I felt Gus’s questioning gaze on us. I hadn’t given him an answer. Emir wasn’t a WWOOFer or a farmhand, but he was hardly a ‘friend of a friend’ either. Why couldn’t I find the words? Why was it this hard?

If I wanted to keep Emir, I’d have to tell people. I’d have to tell my family. If I wanted to hang onto this happiness, and there was no other word for what my heart was doing right now, I’d have to go public with a younger Turkish man.

“Should we take two cars, or—” Gus gestured at his Hyundai.

“Yes.” I pointed at a bag on his back seat. “You have a lot of gear.”

I was speaking way too brightly, probably annoying Emir. Hell, I was annoying myself, but I couldn’t be trapped in a car with this guy, his gear and his gear obsession.

Gus nodded, finally getting behind the wheel. “Do you want to ride with me? We can discuss the shoot? Would save time.”

I swallowed hard but gave him a sweet smile. “I would, but Emir can’t drive.” I shot Emir a sharp look, silencing the protests that clearly hovered on his tongue.

Gus eyed him with mock sympathy. “Oh, no! That’s too bad. How do you get around?”

Emir gritted his teeth but played along. “I don’t. It’s a pain.”

Casting me a half-menacing look, he slid into the passenger seat of my car, slamming the door. Teasing him gave me a thrill I wasn’t entirely proud of.

“Just follow me, I’ll drive to the first location I had in mind. You can tell me if you think it’s any good.” I smiled at Gus before getting behind the wheel.

“I can drive,” Emir grumbled as I started the car.

“Sometimes it’s best to tell a white lie, trust me. Let that douche feel all smug because he thinks you can’t drive, and he thinks that gives him the upper hand somehow. He’ll be easier to work with. It’s all bullshit anyway. It’s not like driving or having a nice car adds inches to your dick—”

“Nice car? Nice car?”

I laughed. “I’m not talking about his Huyndai!”

“Thank you.”

I couldn’t stop chuckling at his indignant expression. What was it with men and cars? I couldn’t have cared less about mine.

Entering Esk Valley, my mood shifted. This is why I’d wanted to do the documentary. Nature had already done its thing, new growth taking over the layer of silt that had settled over the landscape, transforming it into a drained ocean floor, but the evidence of destruction was everywhere. I tried to imagine the waters that had poured through, my mind wandering to Emir’s home country.

“Have you visited the affected areas after the earthquake in Turkey?”

“No. But my uncle sent pictures of their house and neighborhood. Nothing but rubble.” He sighed.

“Natural disasters are so unfair, aren’t they?”

I parked by a dilapidated house, with only one of its retaining walls standing upright, perfectly illustrating my argument.

“Don’t get too close,” Emir said. “That might collapse.”

He took out his camera and fiddled with the settings. Gus parked behind us and I met him at his car. “A good spot, eh?” I gestured at the desolate location.

“Very ‘The Road’, isn’t it?” Gus popped his trunk and opened a case containing his precious drone. “Have you seen it?”

I had but shook my head. I didn’t feel like gushing over the photography.

I spent the next hour and a half directing Gus, who flew the drone over the landscape. Meanwhile, Emir walked up and down the road, recording footage on the ground. When he returned, Gus had just set up a field monitor on the hood of his car to view the shots.

Throughout the shoot, he kept dropping movie references, either to connect with me or test my knowledge, I wasn’t sure. I stuck to my excuse of knowing nothing and not having enough time for movies, until he moved to such old, mainstream titles I could no longer claim ignorance. So, I nodded along as he preached about the importance of wide-angle shots and symmetry in the Shining, grateful that he kept the tone and content professional, even if he stood a little too close, accidentally brushing my shoulder every time he gesticulated with his hands.

He was clearly passionate about filmmaking, and I couldn’t hold that against him. Maybe I needed to re-evaluate my first impression.

As Emir approached, Gus stiffened. He shifted closer to me, pointing at something on the screen. I leaned back as much as I could while still paying attention to the clip of aerial footage, which honestly didn’t look that different to an earlier clip he was comparing it to.

In different circumstances, I might have flirted a little, to keep him at ease. But I felt Emir’s gaze on me. He was fighting hard to not show his reaction, but the air fizzled with tension.

“Thank you, Gus. We’ll be in touch.”

My smile was genuine as I shook his hand and guided Emir towards our car. I held my breath until I sat behind the wheel, doors closed.

“Are you okay?” Emir’s voice was low, filled with concern. “Did he try something? I should have stayed with you, but I was afraid I’d end up slapping that beard off his face.” The muscle in his jaw ticked.

I gave a shaky laugh. “No. He’s just passionate about films, waffled on and on. Honestly, I think I may have been too hard on him. He’s not a bad guy, just a bit awkward.”

Emir scoffed. “I get that you try to see the best in everyone, but he’s—”

“Obnoxious, yes. But so were you when we first met. If I didn’t choose to see the best in everyone, I would have missed out on those smiles you were hiding.”

I glanced at him, and my stomach wobbled at the mix of emotions on his face—jealousy shifting to embarrassment, then a ripple of joy. I wanted to bottle it.

“You shouldn’t assume everyone has good intentions.” Emir smoothed his indigo dress shirt.

He seemed to dress up rather than down, on most occasions. In my linen top and jeans, I felt almost too casual to be seen with him. Yet I wanted to be seen with him. The thought hit me out of nowhere, followed by a smack of nerves. Could I risk a public outing?

“I’m starving,” I said tentatively. “Should we stop for lunch somewhere?”

He gave me an intense look. “Let’s. I need to talk to you.”

The way he said it immediately released every winged creature hanging about in my stomach. Bats. They were probably bats, hanging upside down in a hollow dungeon. The butterflies of my youth wouldn’t have survived.

I wasn’t ready for this talk. We had to keep things casual, at least on the surface, for as long as possible. On a whim, I pulled over at a cheap little roadside bakery. With the afternoon sun hanging low, we were approaching dinner time, and I couldn’t let this turn into a romantic dinner.

Casual. I could do casual.

“Let’s grab pies or something.”

He cast a suspicious look at the peeling vinyl stickers on the shop window. “If that’s what you want.”

I skipped out of the car and into the bakery, trying not to show my distaste as I saw everything in the cabinet was packaged in glad wrap. I wasn’t a big fan of pie, either. Or rather, my digestive system wasn’t. But I had to feed those bats—they were going crazy in their hollow cave, making me feel far too much.

An old guy sitting by the door in dirty boots perked up. The sneer on his beefy face told me he’d recognized me. As seen on TV, buddy. Except I was older now, thus looked older, which some idiots felt like they needed to mention to my face. I hoped he wasn’t one of them.

People who watched me on TV felt like they knew me. It was an occupational hazard I couldn’t change. Normally, I would have been careful, smiling just enough to not seem rude. I knew how to deal with it. I’d been doing it for years.

But that day, I stepped into the bakery with a Turkish bodyguard in tow. I felt volatile, yet somehow invincible.

“Janie Andrews! As I live and breathe!” The man bellowed at me, standing up as if he’d been sitting there, expecting me all day.

I grinned back and curtsied. “Here I am. Excuse me…” I circled his rather large form to get closer to the glad-wrapped food items.

Emir stopped at the doorway, observing the situation.

“What do you want?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Anything.”

His tone was cautious, his gaze on the gentleman who’d followed me to the sandwich cabinet. I felt Emir’s protective presence, only a few feet away, and it made me brave. A wide smile spread across my face.

“So, you’re keeping it tight,” the man said, nodding appreciatively as his eyes swept down my body. “That’s a spankable ass right there.”

Who said skinny jeans were out of fashion? Playing along, I glanced over my shoulder as if noticing my own ass for the first time. “Is it? Well, thank you, sir.” I slapped my own butt for good measure.

“You’re welcome!” The man laughed so hard his stomach shook.

He stepped closer and I caught the whiff of alcohol on his breath. I grabbed two egg sandwiches and slammed them on the counter. The young girl behind the register gave me a curious look.

Taking my sandwiches, I hurried to the door, past Emir’s furious face and rigid body. “Come on. Let’s drive somewhere.”

To my horror, the drunk guy followed us outside. He must have been too wasted to notice Emir, because one look at his face would have sent a lesser man running.

I reached my car door when the pair of muddy work boots entered my field of vision.

“So, you like being spanked?” He drawled.

“No, thank you.” I said brightly and I tried to open the car door, but he leaned his weight on it.

“Janie Andrews.” He breathed my name like a prayer.

“Can you please move?” My heart hammered in my chest as I saw Emir approaching him from behind. “I seriously recommend you do.”

Within seconds, Emir had him in a headlock, making choking sounds. “If you like spanking so much, that can be arranged.”

“No, Emir! Let him go,” I pleaded, until he released the man, shoving him away.

He clambered away, coughing, boots dragging against the pavement.

I drew a shuddering breath, feeling like a fool. This was my fault. I should have never responded to that creep. I owed Emir an apology. And a proper dinner, I thought, looking at the sorry sandwiches in my hand.

The sandwiches fell on the ground as Emir backed me against the car door, locking me between hard muscle and sunbaked steel. His voice was a low growl. “Never do that again, Janie. I mean it.”

“I was just… humoring him.” I tried to keep my tone light, but my whole body throbbed, inexplicably turned on. “He’s a drunk idiot.”

“A drunk idiot who’s twice your size. What if I wasn’t with you?”

I swallowed a lump, embarrassed. “Then… I wouldn’t. I’m sorry.” I finally looked up, catching his concerned, menacing eyes. Jaw tight, muscles on his arms ticking like they wanted to fight something. Hot coals danced inside me because that’s what I wanted. I’d teased him, on purpose, and this was my reward. I was sick.

“I feel safe with you, Emir. So safe that I’m acting recklessly.”

My breath felt hot and heavy against his neck as he bent down to kiss me by the ear. “I’m acting recklessly, too. And that’s why I need to talk to you.”

Okay. I officially couldn’t make him eat egg sandwiches in the car.

“Let’s go to a restaurant.”

“I can take you out? On a date?” The hope and tenderness in his eyes were my undoing.

“Yes. Take me out on a date, Emir.”