Page 51 of Finding Mr. Write


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And Daphne was standing right there. In the dining room area. Walking to the kitchen with a stack of dishes. She turned and saw him coming out of her bedroom. Running out, half naked, with Sofia following.

“Bear!” he said, because it was all he could think to say. “I heard the bear. We need to get the shotgun. Now!”

He grabbed the plates from her, clattered them onto the table, took her arm, and ran for the patio doors.

DAPHNE

Daphne didn’t remember going onto the deck or down the stairs. All she saw was that moment when her bedroom door flew open, Chris standing there, shirtless, with Sofia reaching for him.

Chris must have heard her come into the house. He’d been in the bedroom with Sofia, heard the dishes rattle as she carried them, and he’d panicked and ran out.

Ran out yelling something about… a bear?

It was so absurd that she wanted to laugh. Instead, she felt as if she was going to be sick. Chris had been in her bedroom with Sofia.

Her stomach lurched.

Sofia was a beautiful woman who was obviously attracted to Chris, and what they did was none of Daphne’s business. She wasn’t thirteen, seeing the boy she liked kissing another girl and wanting to let the air out of their bike tires. In the adult world, “liking” someone is a million miles from a relationship.

Grow up.

Except she was grown up, and part of being grown up was that you didn’t fool around in your host’s bedroom. You didn’t fool around with the woman who was interviewing you for a segment about your host. A segment that was a huge deal to that host, which you could destroy because you wanted to get in a little—

Oh God, she was going to puke.

Well, at least you didn’t walk in on them while they were—

Definitely puking.

The world went dark, and for a second, she thought she’d actually doubled over. Then she realized they were in the shed. Chris turned her around, lightly holding her wrists.

“Nothing happened,” he blurted. “I know what it looked like, but nothing happened.”

Because you heard someone coming and realized you hadn’t locked the door.

“It’s fine,” she said coolly. “I wouldn’t have walked in.”

“What? No. Nothing was going to happen.” His words spilled out almost too fast for her to keep up. “I was putting on my shirt, and I thought it was you knocking, only it was Sofia and she…” He took a deep breath, and even in the dim light, she could see him going red. “She came on to me. I said I heard the bear and ran.”

“Bear?”

He threw up his hands. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

She looked up into his face and burst out laughing.

He mock-glared at her. “I blanked, okay.”

“And then dragged me out here to get the shotgun?”

Another wild toss of his hands. “I don’t always think well under pressure.”

“You could have turned her down gently. No need to drag in the poor grizzly.”

“Yeah, I turn her down, and she gets embarrassed—or pissed off—and suddenly the show doesn’t have any usable footage, because the film somehow fell in the lake.”

“It’s digital.” She lifted her hands. “But yes, I get what you’re saying. I believe she’s too professional to retaliate through the interview. But we don’t know her well enough to be sure.”

“And it’s your promo. Your book.”

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