Page 11 of Love on the Byline

She recoiled. “Uh, no.”

“Not your thing?” he asked, grinning.

“No offense, but it looks like you used that blender to mowthe lawn.”

Hans let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Well, you’re notentirely wrong.” He took a sip, smacked his lips together as if judging thetaste, and turned back to the counter. “Needs more ginger.”

“Mind if I snoop a bit? I see some photos on the mantle inthere.” She pointed at the fireplace in the great room.

“Be my guest.” As he fired up the blender, Blake made herexit from the kitchen.

Again, this room was thoughtfully furnished, with creams andpeaches dominating the palette. Natural wood tones kept all the white fromfeeling too industrial. Over the gas fireplace sat a row of framed photos. Anolder black and white photo of an African-Americancouple took her by surprise.

Okay, so maybe she should have done a basic Google search onher subject. She took out her pen and a fresh notebook.

Cody keeps family photos over the fireplace. Frames lookoriginal, mis-matched. Not staged. House is quiet, clean. Fitness and nutritionguy, Hans. Possible interviewee.

She continued down the line of photos—one of a presumablyinfant Cody with his parents, another of a tween-aged Cody in a cap and gown.He did look a little familiar, and Blake wondered if she had seen one of hismovies or an episode of something. When she moved to the next picture, though,the breath whooshed out of her lungs.

“What the…” Snatching the photo off the mantle, Blake staredhard. She’d never been prone to hallucinations before, but there was a firsttime for everything.

She moved on to the next and the next, each image morebaffling than the last. Maybe her blood sugar was low. Had she forgotten toeat? Because it couldn’t possibly be, “Oliver?”

“The only person who calls Ollie that is his mom, and onlywhen she’s pissed at him,” a booming voice said from across the room.

“I guess this is happening,” Bran said as he leaned againsthis desk.

“What are you really worried about?”

His gaze flicked to Ollie and then away. “I’m not asreckless as people think. I know how to behave or whatever. I don’t… I mean,I’m not…” Sighing in frustration, he rounded the glass desk and threw himselfinto his white leather wingback, swiveling the chair to face the large windowon the back wall.

“Do you remember when U of P won the soccer intra-state tournament,and the local paper wanted to interview me?”

Ollie did remember. He winced. “Yeah.”

“Not my finest moment,” Bran recalled.

“It’s probably not something the guy will ever forget.”

Bran, in his excitement, had blurted out some embarrassingtruths when the reporter asked him how he planned to celebrate the win. “I needto take a shit. Then I’ll shower and go get blitzedwith my buddies,” he’d replied. The university had not been amused, especiallywhen the asshole reporter printed it word-for-uncensoredword.

“I’m not good on the fly. You know that,”he said. “Give me a script, and I’m golden, but I’ve never been great atimprov.”

“I can help.” Ollie took the seat across from him. “Give yousome talking points to stick to, stuff you can use when you get stuck.”

Bran perked up and spun the chair to face him. “Yeah? Thatwould be awesome. Between the two of us, you’re definitelythe wordsmith. Look at how you fixed those scenes we shot the other day!Lorna is ready to marry you.”

All he had done was suggest some tweaks to Bran’s dialoguein a few scenes. “That was nothing.”

“Are you serious? Even Tim loved the changes. I keep tellingyou, you have a future as a screenwriter, or at least a script doctor, if youwant it.”

The back of his neck heated and he adjusted his glasses.“Thanks. Anyway, like I was saying, I’ll be here to help.”

“What would I ever do without you?”

“Probably fetch your own drinks?”

Bran chuckled. “Speaking of which, Hans should be making mysmoothie. Would you grab it for me? I want to do some prep before the guy fromthe Gazette gets here.” He held his palms together as if to say please?

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