She laughed. “An honest man.”
“I try.”
She thought for a second. “I think the Book Fair is my favorite.”
“An unexpected choice. I would have thought something at the holidays.”
“No. The Book Fair.”
Because that summer they’d spent together, Del had first told her he loved her during the Book Fair. They’d made love in her bedroom. She’d been a virgin and he couldn’t have been more considerate and careful. Not to mention quiet, what with everyone else in her family sleeping on the same floor.
They’d been so young, she thought wistfully. So confident in their feelings for each other. So sure of their future. Even though she knew exactly what had happened and why, she couldn’t help wishing it had been different. That she had been different.
Not that she regretted going to college. That had been the right choice, and Del had obviously needed to leave Fool’s Gold. She’d unexpectedly provided the catalyst. But if she could take back the words, she would.
“I like the Tulip Festival best,” he said.
She stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Sure. They’re pretty. It’s a sign of spring coming. The changing of the season.”
“Tulips?”
“What? You’re saying a real man doesn’t like flowers?”
“I’m saying you surprise me.”
“That’s me. A constant mystery. Chicks dig mystery guys.”
“If only you had a cool scar.”
“I know. I kept hoping for some scar-inducing injury, but it never happened. I’m just that good.”
She laughed, and the opportunity to discuss the past and maybe apologize was over. But she could get there, she told herself. This new version of Del might not need to hear the words, but they needed to be said.
* * *
“ACTION!”
Del looked at the camera, knowing that while he might be uncomfortable staring directly at the lens, looking somewhere else didn’t translate well. His job was to engage with the viewer and that meant making eye contact.
“In Fool’s Gold, you can taste wine,” he said, then raised a glass of local merlot. Despite the fact that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, he pretended to take a sip. When this was done, he was so getting more coffee.
Day one of shooting had started at an ungodly hour and would go until sunset. They were starting with the tourist videos—showing all sides of the town. He and Maya had an aggressive filming schedule that would take them over much of Fool’s Gold. This morning they were focused on the wineries, followed by a couple of shots in town. The afternoon, with the harshest light of the day, would be spent by the wind turbines outside of town. If the sunset was cooperative, they would end with a view of the sun setting behind the town.
“Again,” Maya said. “Wait a second.”
She moved from behind the camera and got one of the equipment boxes, then dragged it toward him. When he started to move to help, she held up a hand.