Maya realized Del was no longer next to her. She turned and saw he was back a few feet, looking bemused.
“What?” she demanded.
“It’s a good idea,” he said, walking toward her. “The idea of using a consistent format is a good one. You’re right about the repetition. I never thought of that. It could be an ongoing series.”
“Sure. Focus on regular kids at first, then expand. What is it like to be the daughter of the president? The son of a movie star or sports hero? To live on the streets in India? Seeing is believing.”
He caught up with her. “You’re good.”
She smiled. “I can brainstorm with the best of them. Believe me, when your topic is celebrity gossip, you find ways to make the most mundane seem interesting.”
They started walking again. She thought about the potential for the project. There were so many ways to make it appealing, and not on a big budget, either. Not that Del needed her help.
“I never meant to get stuck in LA,” she said, knowing it didn’t matter, but needing him to know. “I always thought I would end up somewhere else.”
Which could have been the problem, she admitted, if only to herself. Ending up wasn’t the same as executing a plan. It was still being tossed around by circumstances.
“Now you’re here,” he said. “That’s somewhere else.”
She nodded, thinking she should be grateful for that. They turned left on Second. But this job had just kind of happened. She hadn’t been looking for it. Mayor Marsha had come to see her. What was up with that? Maya always prided herself on getting the details right in her stories, but not in her own life.
“What are you thinking?” Del asked. “You’re looking fierce.”
“Just thinking about not making decisions. Inaction is its own plan—not a good one, but there is always an outcome.”
“Wondering if you should have actively planned more?”
“Maybe. Or at least thought about what I wanted.” She drew in a breath. “A network job, which isn’t going to happen. So I’m a behind-the-camera girl now.”
“One of the best.”
She smiled. “Thanks. I’ll accept the compliment, even though you have no point of comparison.”
“You’re better than me.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Hey,” he said, in mock annoyance. “I’m not that bad.”
“You’re perfectly adequate. Better than most with your level of training.”
He put his arm around her and drew her against him.
“Stop trying to shield my feelings,” he teased. “Just tell it to me straight.”
She smiled up at him. “You’re a dabbler. A cute dabbler, but a dabbler all the same.”
He was close enough to kiss her, she thought, aware of his body pressing against her and his mouth tantalizingly close. Despite being in the middle of town, on a public sidewalk at two on a Sunday afternoon, she could use a good kissing. Del’s kisses were special.