Mr. 365 (5 page)

“Do we?” He grins as he looks above my head.

“What?” I follow his gaze. “Mistletoe!” I gasp and then laugh, pushing him on the shoulder. “You’re so smooth!”

“It’s the Christmas house, Sophia. What did you expect? Besides I didn’t make you stop and stand under it. You can always step away and break the spell.”

I don’t take a step, but put my hands on my hips and tilt my head instead. The curious part of me is overstepping the logical side.
Will he really try to kiss me?

“I think
you
planned this.” He teases.

“You’re trying to divert me.”

“And you’re still standing under it.” He steps in close and gently combs his fingers through my hair until he’s holding the back of my head. I’m stunned with how smooth he is as he slowly pulls me toward him. “A little diversion is nothing compared to what you’re doing to me.”

When our lips meet, his kiss is soft and gentle at first, but within moments he wraps me up in a passionate kiss. He moves his hand across my back as he kisses my neck.

“Sophia,” he whispers in a low voice. “What am I going to do with you?”

I blink rapidly as he holds me. For a moment I’m not sure if I can stand. There’s no feeling in my legs since all the feelings have moved to places they shouldn’t be. My thundering heart and red cheeks are a clear sign that my libido just got a swift slap in the face. I’ve never been so awake, yet I’m floating in a hormone-induced stupor.

Holy hell!
This Christmas guy can kiss. Really kiss. That kiss should be eligible for a gold medal in the first kiss Olympics.

His hand glides lower on my back and pulls me closer.

I don’t know whether to run for the hills or kiss him again. I seriously need to get a grip, snap to it, and remember why I’m there. I take a deep breath and get my bearings.

“Well for starters, you could shoot a TV show with me,” I say, playfully tracing my finger along his bicep and down his arm. My move has the intended effect, and the spell is broken.

He gently pushes me back until we’re face-to-face. “Is that it then? The only way I’ll see you again is if I agree to do a show I don’t want to do?”

I’m losing him for the show and make a halfhearted attempt to bring him back.

“But it would be fun shooting together, don’t you think? And think of all the people who will discover the amazing visual experience you’ve created here in this house.”

His smile fades and he steps away. “Yes, it would be fun to spend more time with you, but honestly, it’s the rest of the attention I don’t care about.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, searching his expression for any indication of uncertainty.

He takes my hand. “I’m sure. So, if that’s the condition, we’ll have to say good-bye.”

I look down for a long moment. I remember my favorite documentary teacher in school telling us that your work is meaningless if you can’t look through your lens and find the complete truth in your subject. My reply surprises even me and I look up. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this since it contradicts my job responsibility on this project, but I admire you for staying true to yourself.”

He squeezes my hand and smiles. “Thanks, Sophia.” He lightly brushes his fingers through my hair, lingering on the ends before letting go. “And you’re sure you don’t want to see me again?” The hope in his eyes breaks me.

I’m feeling wild and reckless, despite knowing that I’ll probably end up in therapy over this. My intrigue with this man is allowing me to look past his Christmas craziness. “I don’t care if I lose this gig as a result of it. I
would
really like to see you again.”

“Now you’re talking!” he says, smiling and stepping closer.

I nod, my lips pressed together with determination.

He puts his hands on my waist. “Can I tell you how appealing it is that you’re defending me? So, you’ll let me take you out on a real date?”

“I’d love that,” I say as I wonder what lusty, love struck cyborg has invaded my body.

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me again. I consider slowing him down, but pull him closer instead.

Suddenly a howl and scratching noise come from the other side of the back door.

“Romeo,” Will says with an eye roll.

“Sounds like he wants some attention.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“Why don’t you check on him, and I’ll start the coffee,” I say, glad for a moment to search for my lost sanity.

“Okay, There’s milk in the fridge if you like it light. I’m not sure I have any sugar but you’re so sweet I bet you take yours without it.”

That was so corny, but he’s so happy I can’t even roll my eyes. Instead I tease him. “Aw, you keep at it mister, and I may never leave.”

My cell phone rings as I’m slipping into bed two hours later. Will’s name comes up on the caller ID.

“Hey,” I say softly.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he says.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.”

“Good thoughts?”

“Very good thoughts.”

“Any naughty ones?”

“Hmmm, is this going to be
that
kind of phone call?” I ask.

He clears his throat. “Actually, I called for another reason. Are you really going to lose this gig if I don’t do the show?”

“Hey, I don’t want you to worry about that. I thought we’d worked through this,” I say, testing him.

“But I really need to know. Will you?”

“Probably. You were the focus of the show. But don’t stress about that. I’ve got some other potential things lined up. I’m fine, really.”

“I was thinking after you left. You gave up trying to get me on the show because it was more important to be with me and have me be happy.”

“Yes, and that
is
how I feel.”

“That really means something. So, you know what? I’m going to do the damn show. I’m doing it for you. And the bonus is we’ll get to see each other, right?”

“Yes! Are you sure, really sure? We’ll have to hold off on dating until the shoot is over.” I’m so happy and relieved. Maybe it’s all going to work out.

“I’m sure,” he says resolutely. “And we can still go out and talk about the project.”

“Sure,” I say, liking his style. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

“Promise?”

“I promise. So, I’ll call you tomorrow to schedule the next meeting.”

“And can we still go out on Saturday? Like I said, it doesn’t have to be a date.”

“Yes, I can’t wait! Hey, Will?” I hope he hears the smile in my voice.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

I
grin when my team and I pull up to Will’s place. I’ve been looking forward to their reaction.

The Victorian gem is a confection of intricately shingled turrets, wrap around porches, picture windows, and elaborate woodwork with spindles and arches. There’s even an assortment of different weather vanes on the roof. My favorite part, however, is the color—periwinkle with cream and celadon green accents. It’s like something you’d find in an upscale neighborhood of San Francisco, not Los Angeles. On this street of Spanish haciendas and regency revivals, this grand old lady of a house stands out rather dramatically.

“Wow! What a beauty!” Aaron exclaims. He pulls out his still camera and takes some shots as we approach the vast front porch with intricately carved railings.

“Can you imagine when it’s covered with Christmas lights,” says Lindsey. “When does he do the front yard, Sophia?”

“The neighbors got an injunction from the city that prevents him from starting until the week before Thanksgiving, so you’re going to have to work that out so we can set up mid-October according to the schedule.”

“Okay. I’ve already started the process.” Lindsey makes notes in her pad. She looks up and down the street. “I have to say, I can’t blame the neighbors. The crowds he gets when he does his thing at Christmas must be really annoying. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to live next to it.”

“Me neither,” adds Aaron.

I shrug. “I hadn’t really thought about it that way, but I suppose you’re right. But we’re on Will’s side now, right?” I say, making sure they’re clear.

“Of course,” Lindsey says, smiling.

We ring the bell and when Will pulls open the front door, Aaron and Lindsey are as stunned by Will’s appearance as I was the first time we met. He shakes everyone’s hands, and when he turns to lead us inside, Lindsey mouths
“Whoa!”
with a stunned, wide-eyed expression.

I grin and nod.

Once inside, Will takes a minute to explain the towering Christmas tree in the foyer as Lindsey frantically takes notes. Aaron circles the room, looking through the camera and shooting stills of different angles.

“We may have some lighting issues in here. We’ll have to control the light so that the tree lights and twinkle lights all over the room stand out,” Aaron says.

I nod. “Whatever it takes to capture the holiday feeling, Aaron.”

Will smiles as he watches me.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. I just like your professional mode.”

“Whatever.” I nudge him in the shoulder as we head into the living room.

“Holy hell, this is gorgeous.” Lindsey gasps with delight when we head into the living room.

“Interesting way of putting it.” Will teases, and Lindsey’s cheeks burn bright pink.

“Everything’s white, and look at these projections on the ceiling and walls,” Aaron says in despair. “This is a technical nightmare.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I say.

Luckily Aaron is much happier in the
under the sea
room.

“He has a light meter built into his forehead,” I whisper to Will.

He looks over at Aaron, then turns back to me and nods, smiling. “Hey, before I forget, I wanted to let you know that I saw Hank today.”

“Hank?” I ask.

“Yes, Hank is the homeless guy I’m friends with. I thought you may be interested in meeting him. I’ve always thought he’d make a meaningful subject if you guys ever do anything to help the homeless.”

“I’d like to meet him,” I say, wondering if there’s a way to tie Hank into the show.

“Great. I’ll set it up.”

Lindsey looks over at us talking. I wonder what she’s thinking. She’s always telling me I have an easygoing personality, so wouldn’t it be natural for me to get along with our subject?

After Aaron gets his stills, Will shows him the other rooms and explains how they’ll be decorated.

“Anything upstairs?” Lindsey asks.

“The master bedroom is themed, but I don’t want anything shot up there,” Will replies before winking at me and smiling.

“Just as well,” says Aaron. “We have more than enough down here, and I sure as hell don’t want the guys carrying all the equipment up there if we don’t have to.”

“So, I think we have everything, Sophia,” Lindsey says as she checks through the list I gave her one last time.

“Good, and you’ve checked on the permits?”

“Yeah, we’re taking care of that tomorrow,” says Lindsey.

“I really want your assurance I won’t have trouble with the neighbors. They aren’t at all fans of my Christmas stuff,” Will explains.

“Yes, Sophia has told us, so we’ve already contacted them and offered compensation for the inconvenience. I’m sure we’ll work something out,” Lindsey says confidently.

“I hope so. If not, this shoot could end up qualifying for a very different kind of reality show,” replies Will.

We all say our good-byes, and as Will opens the front door, he turns to me.

“Sophia, did you drive separately? I wanted to ask you about a few other things.”

I smile to myself, knowing he’s up to something. “Actually no, we all drove together.”

“Take your time. I want to get more shots of the exterior anyway,” says Aaron.

“And I can make some calls in the car while we wait,” Lindsey adds.

As soon as they step out onto the porch, Will closes the door.

“So, what did you—”

Before I can say another word he pulls me close, presses me against the front door, and kisses me.

Stunned, I still for a few seconds, but then I run my fingers through his hair and pull him in for another kiss. I press my whole body up against him with wanton abandon.

Good lord, here we go…

“Wow,” I whisper when we finally part. “Where did that come from?”

“I only lay in bed and thought about doing that all night. I couldn’t let you leave without having you in my arms again at least once.”

“You know what?” I ask with a sly smile. “I felt the same.”
Should it trouble me that I mean these words?
My conscience kicks in and compels me to speak up. “But didn’t we agree no dating until after the shoot?”

“So that means no kissing too?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“I suppose that could be negotiated.” I slip off my high horse.

He gives me
the
look. “Because I’ve got to tell you, Ms. Producer, you’re quite the kisser.”

“As you are, Mr. Holiday Guy.”

“And although this is going to sound a lot more forward than I intend it to,” he continues.

“Yes?” My curiosity piqued.

“Well, after the shoot, if
you
ever want to explore the upstairs, including the master bedroom—my bedroom—I’d be more than happy to show it to you, and you alone.”