Chapter 4
Cami
“It’ll just be you and Kane in the lead car,” the producer says, gesturing toward a large 4x4 truck. “You’ll sit in the backseat so you can film Kane’s profile and the road through the windshield. More camera gear is strapped into the front passenger seat for easy access when you need it.”
I tug at the hem of my oversized sweatshirt. “I was told there’d be three additional members of the camera crew. Where will they be?”
He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “There’s not room for all of you in the truck, obviously. And we hardly need more than one camera on Kane at a time. The rest of the crew will follow behind in a separate vehicle. They’ll get gorgeous long shots of storm cells from a safe distance. You’ll get the up close and personal shots. I want to see carnage and debris.”
“Should I wear a helmet or something?” I ask nervously.
He quirks an eyebrow. “Did you bring one?”
“N-no.”
“Then… no,” he says.
“Is there hazard pay?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I open my mouth to ask another question, but it dies on my lips under the heat of his withering glare.
“I was told you were fearless,” the producer says. “I heard you kept filming while being chased by raging hippos and that you kept your cool when a great white shark ate the lens right off a camera you were holding. Was that you or not?”
“Whoa,” a voice says from behind. “Did you really run from a hungry, hungry hippo? I’ve heard they’re monsters.”
I turn to see none other than Mister Charming himself. He’s even better looking in person, with the body of a young Arnold Schwarzenegger and a face to rival Austin Butler.
I drop my gaze to my feet. “I think the hippo was more angry than hungry.”
He laughs, extending a hand for me to shake. “Kane Charming.”
“Cami Gannon.”
Our palms connect and I feel a zing of electricity flow between us. No, no, no. You cannot want Kane Charming. He lowers his hand to his side, clenching and unclenching his fist. Did he feel the zing, too?
I lift my hand to twirl my hair, a nervous habit I’ve had since grade school and have never been able to break, before I remember that I’ve piled it into a bun on top of my head and crammed it beneath a ball cap. I adjust the bill of my hat just to have something to do with my hands.
For a brief moment, I regret my decision to wear the unflattering clothes. But I shove the thought aside. Self-preservation, Cami, remember…? Kane Charming is a heartbreaker, and the last thing you need is a broken heart.
As Kane climbs into the truck, the producer clears his throat. “What are you waiting for, Gannon? Get in the truck.”
I do as instructed and Kane grins at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s going to be weird having you back there. I feel like a chauffeur.”
I adjust the seat and position the camera toward Kane’s gorgeous face. “Just pretend I’m not here.”
“Impossible,” he says, laughing. “This whole situation is bizarre. Did you know there’s a whole caravan of cars following us? One has nothing but meteorologists studying radar maps, looking for the next storm—something I prefer to do myself, by the way. Another holds the navigation team. It’s their job to get us in and out as efficiently as possible. And then, apparently, there’s another camera van?” He sighs. “Maybe this was a dumb idea. I’ve been doing this for years with nothing but a cell phone and internet access. This just feels… it’s all manufactured bullshit, you know? And—”
“Um, Kane?” I interrupt.
“Yeah?”
“We’re rolling now,” I say, pointing to the camera.
Redness creeps up his neck and into his cheeks. And there’s something so endearing about it.
Celebrities… they’re just like us. Who knew?
"Do we really need to be taping 24/7?” he asks.
I shrug. “The more hours of tape we have, the more the editing team has to work with.”
“Let’s take a break,” he suggests.
I’m tempted to point out that we haven’t even been on the road for ten minutes yet, but I nod, turning off the camera.
“That’s better,” he says. “Want to chat or listen to music? We could try an audiobook or a podcast?”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re one of those people who can’t stand awkward silences, aren’t you?”
His face stretches into a toothy grin. “Guilty as charged.”
I’ve only been in Kane’s presence for a few minutes, and it’s already clear that he’s just as charming as the rumors say.
And we haven’t even seen a storm yet.
As soon as we do, and I see his face light up like Christmas morning, I know I’ll be a goner. So, with great reluctance, I say, “How about a podcast? Do you like true crime?”
This is going to be a long two weeks.