Chapter 3

3

ELISIA

T he hunky guy in the truck had a name. Rob. He also had a job, and that was bossing everyone around.

I noticed that as I shot video of the hard work everyone was doing, making sure to keep my camera well away from Rob. If he caught me recording him, he'd probably smash my phone into bits.

No problem. There were plenty of other hot men to capture on camera, and I did just that, uploading little snippets to three social media platforms at once. The odds that one of my videos would go viral were slim to none, but it was worth a shot, and I'd edit some of this footage into a news package that I'd include in my demo reel.

"Campbell," a male voice called out.

I lowered my camera and looked in the direction of the voice. I knew even before my gaze landed on him that it was Rob calling out to me. He was the only one here who knew my last name. It had been on the police report.

Rob gestured, and I started walking in that direction. My heartbeat accelerated a little with each step. I felt like a teenager, finally being acknowledged by the high school quarterback I'd crushed on for months.

"You might want to get video of this," he said.

I looked from him to the scene in front of me. They were clearing debris. I lifted my phone, made sure it was still recording, and watched the action through my lens.

I could hardly believe the scene unfolding in front of me. One of the hunky mountain men was pulling items off a pile of debris while a woman and a tween girl watched. The girl was crying.

As I struggled to hold the camera as steady as possible, I managed to capture one of those moments that sometimes came after a tornado. A family had lost everything, but underneath the rubble was something that couldn't be replaced. In this case, it was a small dog kennel with a puppy inside.

Please let the dog be alive. Please let the dog be alive.

As the final piece of debris came off, a dog poked up his head, stood, and began whimpering, followed by barking.

The girl and her mom sprang forward. The woman opened the door and pulled the dog out of the kennel.

Holy hell. I wanted to say those words, but I didn't. I clamped my mouth closed and acted as an observer. A collector of information.

That would be my job as a journalist. I'd covered stuff like this for my college TV station, and I'd even done an internship where I followed reporters around. But this was different. This was for social media and my demo reel, not public broadcast.

"Oh my God, we thought we'd lost you," the little girl said, reaching out to pet the puppy, which was still wiggling in the woman's arms. The dog was raining kisses on the woman's face while the woman laughed and cried at the same time.

Tears welled in my own eyes as I watched the scene. Finally, I dared to glance in Rob's direction. He wasn't crying, but he was watching it all with an intense stare.

Yeah, it was getting to him too. The guy had a heart underneath that grumpy exterior.

"Do you mind if I talk to you about what just happened?" I asked the woman and the child as soon as people started moving away. The girl was holding the dog by then, so I felt safe asking her.

"Are we going to be on TV?" the girl asked.

I shifted the camera over to her, wondering if I could use this clip. There were laws about recording minors, but they usually didn't apply to TV news. This was a weird situation, though, since I wasn't even affiliated with a station.

"It's for my demo reel," I said. "I'll be putting it on social media and sending it to stations all over the country to try to get a job."

"You're not a working reporter?" Rob asked.

My attention shifted to him. I told myself it was surprise, not disapproval, that I sensed in his tone.

"I just graduated," I said. "I was the top reporter at my college station, and I did an internship at the ABC affiliate in Nashville."

In other words, I had the experience necessary to report on this story. But I had a feeling this guy wasn't checking my credentials. Maybe I'd just boosted myself a little in his eyes. I wasn't some reporter out to get a story. I was just trying to get work.

"I'll talk to you," the woman said, nodding toward the dog. "Do you want me to hold Angus while I do?"

"That would be great," I said.

Rob drifted away as I pressed record and started talking to the woman. He and his stinky attitude about me being here vanished from my mind as I got caught up in the thrill of interviewing someone again.

It hadn't been all that long. Just a couple of months since I filed my last report for our campus station. But I missed it more than I'd expected.

"Thank you," I said, once we were done.

I stepped away from her and turned, camera still going. As I watched the screen, a face suddenly filled it. It was a gorgeous face, but it wasn't a happy one. It held a scowl the size of Mount Everest.

I lowered the camera to make it clear I wasn't interested in capturing Rob on video. But what did he expect when he was lurking behind me?

Before I could get a word out, he said, "Come with me."

Why did I feel like a kid being scolded by a teacher? More importantly, why did I like it so much?