Free Rugged by Lila Monroe Page A

weird between us. We seem to be back to that comfortable vibe from the first night we met, and I hope it stays that way.
    “It’s beautiful here,” I say, pulling myself back inside. “Almost makes me not want to go back to LA.”
    “If you decide to stick around, I can set you up with a job at the store. You’ve got hands on experience now,” he says. Is it just me, or does he look me over very quickly before turning his eyes back to the road? Probably just wishful thinking on my part.
    I’d better knock it off.
    We pull up to the store, a big, beautiful wooden structure. The whole place resonates with old-fashioned charm. As we get out, I fire up the camcorder and train it on Flint’s face. He groans and rolls his eyes.
    “Am I going to have to get used to this?” He stares into the lens as I focus.
    “If you want to be plastered on billboards all over the Sunset strip, winking manfully at the Japanese tourists, yeah. Cameras are something you’re going to have to grow accustomed to.” I dodge back and forth in front of him. That makes him smile, but it disappears fast.
    “You think this’ll help, right?” He jerks his head to the storefront behind us. “Keep this place from going under?”
    “I think it’s one of the best chances you have,” I say, being completely honest. “These days, everyone needs new twists on publicity and marketing. Having a large chain isn’t enough. You need to use your assets, the special things that your competitors don’t have.”
    “I’ve got tools. Hand saws, screwdrivers, hammers, bolts, nails. Everyone’s got those,” he says, leading me inside. I film the very exciting display of his back muscles as he walks. Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave. I stop, a little overcome by my own voyeurism. I’ve got to stop hanging around Hollywood people. The creepiness is rubbing off.
    We go inside the store. There are a few shoppers milling around, but the place is mostly empty. A dark-skinned woman rings someone up at the register. When she’s done she turns, sees Flint, and breaks into a wide smile. She heads out onto the floor and right over to us.
    “There he is. Thought you were up camping with Fido in the great beyond,” she says, laughing heartily as Flint gives her a bear hug.
    “His name’s Chance, Jeanine. Chance.” He mock-shakes her, which makes her laugh even harder. “And no, the hiking plans got canceled.” He nods to me; I wave from behind my camcorder. “This is Laurel Young. She’s a producer from Los Angeles—”
    He doesn’t even get to finish his thought. Jeanine’s already primping at her hair and sidling in front of my camera, flashing that huge smile. Very casual, oh yeah, very cool. “Looking for the next big thing?” she asks innocently, striking a pose, leg popped and arm in the air. I can’t help giggling.
    “Got any special talents?” Honestly, this is perfect. Mountain man surrounded by a cast of quirky characters? Dynamite for the sizzle reel. I should’ve gotten some footage of Jessa back at the diner.
    “I was the head flag girl sophomore year,” Jeanine says, biting her lip as she thinks. “Also, I can do a mean electric slide.” She demonstrates for the camera, sliding along the floor. It’s actually pretty good.
    “You’re too gorgeous for Hollywood,” Flint says, playfully wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “As for me, they think a do it yourself show’ll bring great business.”
    “Maybe you could shoot it here,” Jeanine says, gesturing around grandly. She’s doing the full Vanna White, posing in front of the merchandise, which is hilarious. “Very glam.” We all start laughing, and a young man comes towards us from around the corner. He cheers when he sees Flint.
    “Callie called, told us about your big TV show,” the guy says. He’s wearing a backwards baseball cap, and grabs Flint’s hand in a man shake, the kind of thing where they look like they’re about to arm wrestle. “You