Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“There she is!” Aunt Rose exclaimed, beckoning Holly into the room. Morning sunlight glinted off the dozens of rings on her wrinkled fingers, and her green eyes were twinkling just enough to put Holly on alert. “This is Wicked Good Apples’ manager and my sweet-tempered niece, Holly Celeste.”
Connor Grimm stood to greet her, forcing her to look upward to maintain eye contact. She’d seen him on TV before, but in real life he was even larger than he appeared on screen. There were dozens of fan pages devoted to Connor: he was the most famous supernatural hunter to exist in modern times. He and his brother, Erikson, produced the hit primetime TV show, Grimm Reality , where they traveled across the United States seeking out tales and experiences of the supernatural. Holly had researched them after the goons had visited; she’d even watched the show, finding it unremarkable and at times downright ludicrous.
It didn’t seem to matter the gender or the age of the viewer; Connor was popular with them all. His dark hair was cut short and often rumpled in a sleepy, sexy way, as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He had cool gray eyes that could be cajoling one moment and cold and harsh the next. When he was after a story, he was ruthless; he knew exactly what to say and what to do to crack the tale wide open, and he wielded his power of persuasion like a weapon.
Holly’s gaze ran over his jaw, which was solid and shaded with a day’s growth of beard. When he flashed her his legendary grin, she reflexively scowled. She’d seen the ghost-hunter memes created by his lovestruck viewers and how they practically fainted over the same disarming smile he was giving her now. On the show he wore a white polo for every episode, but today he was dressed in a simple gray T-shirt and jeans, his skin tanned from the sun. Holly wondered if he’d just flown in from filming in the south. She remembered seeing an ad online for an upcoming episode about the rougarou in Louisiana.
“It seems you’re just the woman I need,” Connor said. His voice was smooth and deep, but his eyes didn’t match the warm tone or the casual smile, and Holly was instantly on guard.
“What do you want?”
The corner of Connor’s eyebrow lifted. “Straight to business. That’s the kind of person I like to work with.”
“I— we —have no interest in working with you. I told your two other employees that when they visited a few months ago. You’ve wasted your time coming out here. Wicked Good Apples isn’t haunted, and it never has been. I’ll see you out.”
“Holly!” Aunt Daisy admonished. Like her twin, Aunt Rose, she wore enough jewelry to stock a pawnshop, but unlike Aunt Rose, her green eyes were unfocused and slightly clouded from vision loss. “Mr. Grimm came all this way to speak to us personally. The least we can do is hear him out.”
Missy flipped her curly red hair behind her shoulder and gave Connor a blazing white smile. “Yes, it’s the least we can do.”
Holly glared at her youngest sister. Missy was a serial dater, and she wouldn’t care what Connor wanted so long as it meant the chance to flirt with the supernatural hunter.
Holly crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Fine. Speak.”
Connor gestured to an antique chair. “Would you like to sit?”
It galled her that he was playing host in her house. “No, I wouldn’t like to sit, if you know what the word no means.”
“Oh my God,” Winter hissed, “sit down, you pain in the ass.” She grimaced at Connor. “Usually I’m the jerk, not her. I promise.”
Connor’s slate-gray eyes were unreadable as he sank into his seat, and Holly reluctantly pulled out the chair at the head of the table, not because it was a power move, but because it was the most accessible spot. The smell of the sharp cheddar cheese made her stomach sour, so she shoved the board away from her.
“As I was telling your family,” Connor said smoothly, as if she hadn’t just insulted him in front of the entire table, “I understand your reservations about having a filming company in your personal space, but we do our best to minimize our presence, and we always leave the grounds and buildings exactly as we found them.”
Holly let her boredom show.
Amusement surfaced in Connor’s eyes before he directed his attention to her sisters. “Filming typically takes a few weeks unless the location is worth a deeper dive, and then it might span several episodes, but we wouldn’t know that until we began. At the very worst, we’d still be out of your hair before apple season begins.”
“You sound dreamy,” Missy sighed. Then she sat up straight, alarmed. “I mean it sounds dreamy.”
“It sounds inconvenient,” Holly said. She tapped her fingernails against the top of the table. Unlike Stacy, they did not have tiny perfect apples painted on them. Instead, they were short and unvarnished—the nails of a woman who was routinely up to her elbows in apples. “We’d be tripping over you and your cameramen for weeks.”
Winter nodded in agreement. She was Missy’s twin, and although they had identical curly red hair, hazel eyes, and spritely builds, they were completely opposite people. Where Missy was easygoing and bubbly, Winter was so stubborn and fierce that Holly was convinced she’d been an Amazon warrior in another life. “Holly’s right, it does sound inconvenient. What would be the benefit to us?”
“We pay generously for all of our filming locations, but maybe the greatest benefit is the massive media exposure. When the episode airs, your farm will be flooded with business. People will come from all over the country to visit, and if you’re inclined to, you can leverage that publicity. We’ve had locations open B he wasn’t the only one who could command space. Unfortunately, now she was so close she could feel the heat from his body, and she had to look even farther upward to meet his steady gaze. “My great-great-grandmother started this place with pride, and I’m not going to let you turn it into some phony circus for cheap entertainment. This farm means everything to me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.”
At the last sentence a glint entered his eye, as if she’d just given away a vital piece of information. He lowered his head and said quietly, “Then I’ll leave you my card, because I’m the only offer that’s going to keep this place afloat in exchange for nothing but a few measly weeks of filming. When you change your mind, give me a call. I’ll be in town until the end of the weekend.”
She glanced at the white card he held between two tanned fingers, but didn’t move to take it.
He reached forward and tucked the card into the blue plaid pocket of her shirt. “Don’t make me wait too long, Holly. There are mysteries here to solve, and you have an apple orchard to save.”
“Don’t hold your breath, you overconfident spook chaser!” she shouted at his departing back.
Her anger flared further when he only laughed.