A Spot at Starlight Beach (Spotted Cottage #3)

Twelve

Her mom had warned her about this, but Mackenzie was still having a hard time keeping a straight face.

“Hello, Mrs. Smitt,” she said. “Nice to see you again.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Mrs. Smitt stopped a foot from her face, pointing a finger at her nose. “This time I’ve got backup.”

Mackenzie glanced at the man standing next to Mrs. Smitt. His black T-shirt looked painted onto his skin, bunching up at the biceps and lifting over his rounded belly. His black cargo pants had more pockets than she could count, and his scowl was deep and theatrical.

It was hard to feel afraid of the man but, to his credit, he was a head taller than Mrs. Smitt, and at least two Mrs. Smitts wide.

“Why would you need backup? This isn’t a battlefield,” Mackenzie said. “Mrs. Smitt, when you and your husband sold your interest in Lottie to Russell, you forfeited the right to—”

“My husband was the one who wanted that deal, not me!” she snapped. “We were tricked. We sold her for next to nothing . How was I supposed to know Lottie was about to become the most popular whale in the world?”

Back to money. Of course.

Mackenzie took a breath, keeping her tone steady. “Lottie is only popular because of what Russell is doing. If you’d kept her performing as you were, she would’ve cost you millions in vet bills and tank repairs.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to be here!” She stomped her foot. “I mean it!”

“When I’m done checking in with the staff, I’ll be on my way.”

Her eyes scanned Liam, up and down. “Is this skinny little guy the best Russell could get for your protection?”

Liam didn’t flinch, keeping the camera on her. Mackenzie could see a smile flicker on his face.

“I don’t need protection, Mrs. Smitt,” Mackenzie said calmly. “I’m here to work. Not to fight.”

Inge handed her a pen and a clipboard stacked with papers and she flipped through them, marking as she went along.

“Well, I’m here to fight,” Mrs. Smitt said.

This was the second time Liam had filmed Mackenzie, and the second time she was fighting with someone. The documentary would just be a montage of her fighting people.

Soldier era indeed.

Mackenzie bit her lip. “I’m not doing anything wrong. If your friend wants to pick me up and throw me out of the park, that’s one thing. For now, I’m going to talk to Lottie’s trainers and plan her transfer in a few weeks.”

Mrs. Smitt said nothing, standing with fists clenched. For the next hour, she and her tight-shirted friend followed at a distance as Mackenzie went through plans with the veterinarians and the transport teams.

It had been Russell’s idea for her to do an in-person check-in. Mackenzie had resisted at first, but now she could admit he had been right. They were able to catch two potential issues just talking through plans, and everyone had a chance to bring up concerns in person.

Getting to see Lottie was another plus. It was easy to lose sight of their goal when people were trying to fight her every other day, but being able to look Lottie in her beautiful, soulful eyes set Mackenzie’s mind straight.

When they were done, Mrs. Smitt followed them as they walked out of the park.

“It must make her feel triumphant,” Liam noted, standing on the other side of the gates, still recording.

Mackenzie could only roll her eyes. “Whatever makes her feel better.”

He turned, narrowing his eyes. “Look. She’s still glaring at you.”

Mackenzie snorted a laugh. “Liam! Don’t instigate her.”

“Come on, this is great. ‘Angry woman in front of dilapidated roller coaster shakes fist.’ Could be our opening shot. Who knows?”

She shook her head and pulled out her phone. There was a text from Joey.

Needed to make a quick side trip to pick up another passenger – hope you don’t mind. Maybe grab some lunch?

Worked for her. She wrote back. We’ll get you something .

His reply came quickly. YES!

Presumably, Russell paid him a salary, but Mackenzie suspected he’d be happy trading his services for cakes and roasts.

She turned to Liam. He was still filming and had a grin plastered on his face. “Joey had to make a detour. Do you want to get lunch somewhere?”

“Sure.” He turned, pointing the camera at her.

“One thing,” she said, holding up a hand. “You have to put that away. I feel like there’s a third person with us all the time.”

“There sort of is, if you count Mrs. Smitt.”

She pursed her lips. “Liam. I’m serious. It’s like…I don’t know. You’re using the camera as protection. A barrier. Like there’s a wall between you and the world. We can’t have a conversation because the camera is always there.”

Liam tutted, turning the camera on himself. “I’ve just been accused of being closed-off and unfeeling. Unbelievable.”

Mackenzie laughed. “I didn’t say anything about unfeeling. I’m sure your sensitive artist heart beats behind the lens.”

Liam dropped the camera to his side. “That’s quite enough, thank you. I don’t need you breaking through my psyche.”

He put the camera away and they walked through the parking lot, hot cars baking on the asphalt. Traffic blasted by on the street ahead of them, a slim sidewalk at the edge.

Mackenzie’s stomach rumbled and sweat sprouted on her forehead. All this arguing was getting to her. She needed to replenish.

“I can see a little diner over there. Does that work for you?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

They walked to a traffic light and hurried across four lanes to get to the little building. It was the size of a double-wide trailer, with windows along the side.

They walked in and cold air hit her like a wall. Whole pies stood in glass stands, casting rainbows in the sun. Sweat slid down Mackenzie’s back as they sat at a booth with a red tabletop. The only other patrons were two men seated on round yellow barstools.

“I hope you weren’t expecting American fine dining,” Mackenzie said as she ran a hand over the table. Her hand only stuck to one spot. Not bad.

She unfolded the menu and hid behind its massive pages.

“I’m not a snob, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said. “I spent a year living off MREs.”

A picture of a salad stared back at her. A salad wasn’t going to cut it. She flipped to the burgers. “Why would you do that?”

“I was working as a tour guide in South America. I led people on weeks-long backpacking trips.”

Mackenzie blinked. It was too much to read. A burger would do.

“Really?” She set her menu down and looked at him. “ You did that?”

He glanced up at her and smiled. “Is that a tone of disbelief?”

“I just assumed you went to Oxford or something and lived on a three-thousand-acre estate while waiting to inherit your title as duke.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I think you’ve watched too much TV.”

“You might be right.”

“I didn’t go to Oxford. I grew up in Cambridge, but I didn’t go to school there. It’s quite prestigious, you know, and I’m not very smart. Or wealthy.”

She laughed. “Could have fooled me.”

His eyes darted above his menu. “I went to the University of Nottingham for film. You know how the river runs through the town in Cambridge?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“My family owns a punting business there. That’s what I grew up doing – giving tours on the river. After college, I spent time filmmaking, but that went south. I left in search of adventure.”

“How did filmmaking go south?”

“Speaking literally, I ended up in South America and grew adept at bribing officials.”

Her mouth popped open. “No way!”

“Yes.” He set his menu down and folded his hands on the table. “I am not, in fact, part of the landed gentry, but I know how to keep a bunch of backpackers safe.”

She kept a straight face. “That’s disappointing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I was asking about the filmmaking, though. What went wrong?” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Or do you need to hide behind the camera to be able to talk about it?”

He grinned. “I’m not hiding.”

“It seems like hiding.”

The waitress stopped by and got their orders – a cheeseburger and fries for Mackenzie, and meatloaf with mashed potatoes and corn for Liam.

“Meatloaf?” Mackenzie mouthed as the waitress walked off.

“Sounds like a delicacy,” he said. “I had to try it.”

Mackenzie grimaced. “It’s going to be an experience, I’m sure.”

He took a sip of water, set the red plastic cup down, then looked her in the eyes. “I made a few small films when I was at school.”

His gaze was so focused it made her heart rate quicken. “Anything I’d know?”

Liam smiled and shook his head. “No.”

“Ah.” Mackenzie looked down at her cup of water.

Maybe she shouldn’t force people to talk about themselves if they didn’t want to. It was too hard to tell if he was annoyed. He always had the same intense look on his face, like he was solving a math problem. He was probably seething under there.

“There’s this idea for new filmmakers to not wait to make something. They call it a micro budget film. I made one using the entirety of my savings. We were going to shop it around the local film festivals, try to make a name for ourselves.”

She looked up. “What happened?”

He pushed his cup to the side and leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. “It didn’t work out.”

“Forgot to pay the right bribes?”

He grimaced. “Completely. They sent me to Australia for my crimes.”

Mackenzie laughed. “Okay, you got me on that one.”

“Thank you. I try.” He sat back with a smile on his face. “What was your story before becoming the muscle on this project?”

“The muscle.” She scoffed. “I sort of am, aren’t I?”

“Mrs. Smitt had no idea who she was dealing with.”

She wanted to be more witty, but she was so hungry she was getting dizzy. “Clearly.”

Their meals arrived. Mackenzie’s looked like it had come out of a burger catalog – a perfectly fluffy bun, centered cheese, ripe red tomato slices.

Liam’s was a plate of brown, swimming in gravy.

When the waitress walked away, he leaned in close and looked up at Mackenzie. “What have I done?”

She stifled a laugh. “I’m not really sure.”

He shook his head and picked up a fork and knife.

Mackenzie covered her mouth, trying to contain a bite of burger as the suppressed laugh escaped her. “You might like it.”

He cut a small piece and took a bite, chewing. “Hey. That’s not half bad. It may look like cat food, but in actuality, it’s…”

“Dog food?”

He smiled. “Yes. An unidentified brown meat that came out of a tin with a dog on the label.” He popped his fork into the mashed potatoes. “These are quite nice.”

She set her burger down. “That’s good.”

“It seems like you’re avoiding my question,” he said, waving a meatloaf-laden fork at her. “Do you have something to hide, Mackenzie?”

A chill ran down her back. The heat was finally dissipating . “I’m not avoiding it. I was just really hungry.”

He stared at her, then snapped his eyes back to his plate. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

Mackenzie smiled and took a sip of water. “Before I got tricked into being Russell’s temporary assistant, I worked in sales. Software.”

“Ah. Very respectable, but doesn’t explain your skills in jumping from moving planes.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s just a lot of gymnastics growing up. And Pilates now.”

“Hm.”

“I had to leave my last job because my boyfriend worked there too and…things fell apart between us.”

That was the smoothest she’d been able to tell someone about her horribly nasty breakup. Maybe she was healing.

“I’m sorry. That’s a terrible way to go.”

“Don’t pity me.” She picked up a fry and chomped on it. “How awful is it that I’m realizing I never even liked that job?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t seem uncommon.”

“But I thought I did. It’s because I’m competitive. They knew how to wind me up.” She had another bite of burger. It was the best burger she’d ever had, she was sure of it.

Her blood sugar had to be soaring with glee, because she couldn’t stop talking, even with her mouth full. “The only time I was ever happy, I think, was when we all went to a conference in Hawaii.”

“Sounds like a place to fall in love.”

Mackenzie puffed out her cheeks. “It was. That was where we started dating, in Kauai. It was heaven on earth.”

“I’ve never been,” he said.

“You should go. Anyway,” she waved a hand, “I am definitely winning the breakup.”

He laughed. “Is that what you’re supposed to do after a breakup?”

“Yeah, Liam, keep up! I left that job and went directly to saving a whale. You can’t dream up that sort of career advancement.”

“Are you saving her, or is she saving you?” He stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

“Oh, shut up!” She threw a fry at him. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

He took the fry and ate it. “No one does the right thing.”

“I’m saving her, thank you. Then I’m going to land a way better job and show him he made a huge mistake.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He paused. “Just don’t fall in love with your coworker again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Who said I was in love? This is about winning, Liam. Focus.”

“I am focused! Winning. Got it.” He took another bite of meatloaf, then set his fork down. “Okay, I can’t take any more of that. It’s like eating a sponge.”

She laughed. Maybe Liam could make some connections at the Blackfish Ball and restart his film career. Normally, she didn’t like people schmoozing on Russell’s Hollywood connections, but with Liam, she didn’t think she’d mind.

Maybe Cameron would come to the ball, too. Had he been serious about attending?

If she decided to work at Opuluxe Escapes, he wouldn’t technically be her boss. They’d be coworkers. That was different than her last job, right?

No. She wasn’t falling into that mess again, and even daydreaming that it was a possibility was a pointless vanity. She had to get that under control.

She pushed her plate toward him. “Have some fries. Joey won’t like you getting sick on his plane.”

“Thank you. Very kind.”

She would stay focused, too. No more daydreaming about Cameron. There was a ball to plan.