Page 28 of One Time in Paris
ISLA
PARIS, TEXAS
When she’d landedin Dallas, Isla hadn’t quite known what to expect from the small town 110 miles northeast of the city...and the reality of it was even grimmer than she’d anticipated.
The Uber Davy had provided for her stopped in what appeared to be a small, run-down parking lot surrounded by brick buildings. At the far end of the lot, two trailers were parked to the side—A Tour of Paris’sofficial mobile headquarters.
Isla gulped a breath, worry mounting.
Maybe she’d given Davy a terrible idea. Not all Parises were created equal, but starting in this one?This does not seem promising.
In fact, this seemed like the middle of nowhere.
A bleak, empty expanse of flat streets, square, brick buildings, and a few scraggly trees. The sign to the parking lot, a giant red arrow that announced,“Welcome to Paris!”appeared worn and weathered, much like everything she’d seen on the drive in.
With unease clawing at her stomach, she opened the door and climbed out of the car as the driver off-loaded her suitcase. She thanked him, then wheeled the case over toward the first trailer and knocked.
Davy opened the trailer a second later. “Isla!” She threw her arms wide and hugged her. “I’m so excited you’re here. Come on, bring your stuff in.”
Isla managed a weak smile and pushed away the temptation to ask,“Are we in the right place?”
Farther inside the trailer stood Kyle. A crew member was fastening a camera and microphone to him, and Kyle winked. “Hey, Isla.”
“Oh, you beat me here,” she said, relief settling into her ribs as she caught sight of the third Winnick sibling. Surfing had only improved his good looks—his hair was sun-streaked golden, his skin tanned from days in the sun. Isla didn’t entirely know what Kyle did for a living, just that he was a computer genius who worked remotely.
“It was a quick flight from Nashville,” Kyle said with a shrug. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “How’s my favorite girlfriend?”
Isla laughed and set her suitcase in the corner of the cramped trailer. Davy and the rest of the crew knew they weren’t really dating, which helped. Explaining the need to pretend a relationship to her family had been. ..interesting.Liddy had laughed about it, thankfully, but Callum had looked at her over the FaceTime video like she’d sprouted horns. “I’m good. Slept most of the flight. I didn’t realize it would be such a long trip to here from the airport, though.”
The crew member straightened. “It’s Texas. Every trip takes a long time.” He smiled, extending an arm covered with a tattoo sleeve toward her. “I’m Tim, by the way. I’m sound-slash-electric-slash-gaffer on this set.”
“Isla Scott,” she said with a grin.
“Yeah, I saw you inCabareton the West End several years ago. You were amazing.”
“Oh, thank you.” She settled into a chair and rolled her shoulders back. Thankfully, they wouldn’t be starting to film until tomorrow, but Davy wanted her to come straight to the “set” after arriving—to give them a final overview of filming.
Tim brought another mic pack and camera over to Isla. “So, here’s the deal. We’ll be using several types of fully immersive film methods. Besides your on-body camera, we’ll also set up and stage typical camerawork that you might expect with a documentary. Think of this as your own reality miniseries. Arms up. I’ll fit you better for it later.”
“Mic’d at all times?” Isla asked, glancing at Davy as she lifted her arms. Tim tinkered with the camera and mic, strapping it to her.
The idea of having a film crew following her around for the next three days wasn’tthatstrange, but in the past, she’d always had a script to work from. While Davy had spent weeks preparing small segments for Isla to memorize and record, the pressure of being filmed without having any idea what she might say was enormous.
“Everything’s going to be great,” Davy said brightly. “Tomorrow is the annual wine festival, which is why I scheduled this town first. We can spend some time acquainting you guys with most of the buildings and places we want to feature on the show, and then, since it’s already quite late, we can wrap for the night and grab some dinner. Sound good?”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Isla said with a confident smile.
Davy tugged the walkie-talkie from her belt loop and lifted it to her lips. “Boyd?”
Static answered.
“Dammit. He must have turned his off. He should be in the other trailer with the crew. I’ll go get him,” Davy said, then headed out the door.
“Boyd?” Kyle asked, giving Tim a curious look.
“Starling Boyd. He’s the director.”
“Oh.” Kyle’s brows furrowed. “I thought Davy was the director.”
