Page 82 of One Last Shot
He found his car in the dark, forlorn parking lot, then set his phone’s GPS for the diner. When he pulled up a few minutes later, he spotted Beto and Huxley sitting in a booth by a window.
The smells of coffee, fried chicken, and juicy hamburgers met him, and his stomach woke with ferocity as he stepped inside.
He slid into the booth beside Beto.
They were sharing a plate of fries, a couple of malts. A woman walked up, the name Tillie on her badge, and set water down in front of him. “They ordered chicken. You want the same?”
Huxley nodded for him.
“And a chocolate milk,” he said.
She wrote it down and left, and Huxley pushed the plate of fries toward him. “So, Beto and I have been talking. And yes, I guess we have enough footage for the pilot and a short run of shows. Especially after tonight’s rescue.” She leaned back. “But I still like the romance option. It adds to the story. And I think you can sell it, Oaken.”
“I don’t want to sell anything.”
“Please. That’s what this business is—giving people what they want. Selling them on the fantasy. In this case, it’s country music hero turned real hero. And maybe finding love along the way. Maybe I’m misreading what I saw tonight at the restaurant. So if you’re not into her, you don’t have to kiss her. Just... you know. Dance with her once. Get her to smile at you. Leave a little to the imagination, but give them enough to speculate.”
He leaned back. Fact was, he very much wanted to dance with Boo. Get her to smile at him. And especially, kiss Boo again. But he didn’t want it on-screen.
And most of all, he wasn’t about selling a lie to the public. Or to himself.
He was shaking his head when the bell above the door dinged, and he looked up to see Moose and Axel and Shep walk in.
“Look what the storm dragged in,” Moose saidand walked over to him as Axel and Shep took the booth behind them. Moose held out his hand.
Oaken shook it. “So you’re the source behind the late-night chicken?”
“Guilty. You guys having a production meeting?”
“Nope,” said Huxley. “We’re talking about scope and direction.” She put her arm over the back of the booth.
“Well, our man Oaken here is killing it,” Moose said. “Suddenly we looked up and there he was, a real member of Air One.” He clamped Oaken on the shoulder. “When you’re done here, join us for the after party.” He gestured with his head to Shep and Axel.
“Maybe,” Oaken said.
Moose sat down, his back to Huxley.
She leaned forward. Considered Oaken.
“You heard him. I’m part of the team.”
She nodded. “I heard him.”
“Still want to shut this down?”
She leaned back. “Ready to play the game?”
And that’s when Boo popped into his head, her words right before the accident.“You meant it when you said you’d watch my back.”
His mouth tightened. “No. I’m not playing games.”
“Then we’re done shooting, Oaken. We’ll do our final interviews and call it a wrap.”
Oh.He hadn’t thought her words would cut off his wind.
“Or you could talk to Boo and see if she’s up for some on-camera time. In light of the current viral post, maybe she’d like to do some damage control too.”
His mouth tightened. “No.”