"I'll be shirtless in a couple of scenes. Just enough to earn those big bucks they're paying me."
"Really?"
"Not exactly. This isn't a big budget film. We do the tent-pole films so we can afford to do whatever we want the rest of the time. Or feel like we could do whatever we want, I suppose."
"Tent-pole films?"
"That's what they call the ridiculously massive budget event movies that essentially prop up the studio financially, so they can release one or two smaller films around awards season"
"Ah. Like the one you're shooting here?"
"Ideally. I mean. Depending on how good I look with my shirt off."
"Well, I'll be sure to keep my healthy muffins and cookies away from you then. For the sake of art and commerce."
“Don’t you dare. Save me one or two of those, would you?” I plead, nodding towards the baked goods.
“I make no promises. They’re very popular.”
“I’ve no doubt, but I’ll take my chances. I have a strong feeling I’ll get to taste your delicious muffin one of these days.”
Those brown eyes squint at me.
You have every reason to be suspicious of me, darling.
“Good coffee.” I raise my cup and nod. That’s enough talk of the lady’s muffin for this morning.
She clears her throat. “Mrs. Dunbar makes the third best cup of coffee in town.”
“She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”
“Oh sure. This town’s just chock full of character.”
“So it seems.”
I watch as she places a new tea light candle inside the jack o’lantern.
“How long are you going to keep that out?”
“Oh I don’t know—how long do they traditionally keep them out in Cornwall?” She grins as she glances up at me, using a lighter on the wick.
Fuck me, I want to dip my wick in this one, something awful. I should probably ease off on the coffee or I’ll be battling a monster erection until I begin my vigorous workout. Good thing I’m wearing a long coat for now. If I’d known I would be alone with her, I would have worn sweatpants in a heavier fabric. Or an athletic cup, because I wouldn’t put it past this one to knee me in the groin if I continue flirting with her.
I clear my throat. “Did you go out on Halloween?”
“Yes. Did you?”
“I was getting ready to travel. Did you dress up?”
“I wore a costume.”
“Do tell.”
She looks down, pretends to read something very important on her computer. Oooh, she doesn’t want to tell me. Must have been something naughty.
“Let me guess, then…Sexy witch?”
She raises one of her glorious dark eyebrows.