WHO: Rhett Wyatt and Camila Marple WHEN: Monday, June 25, night WHERE: Last Shot SUMMARY: Rhett runs into Camila at the bar. He ends up encouraging her to apply to be his assistant. WARNINGS: Alcohol.
Out of all the places in Fall City, the local bar was definitely Rhett Wyatt’s favorite. Unfortunately, since it was Rhett Wyatt’s favorite location, Last Shot tended to get a bit crowded these days. He hadn’t minded so much when it was just the tourists and people who liked Lightning Bugs or Rhett. But Moira’s death had made a few changes to the crowd makeup.
The change was definitely not for the better. It also gave Rhett one more reason to want to drink.
Tonight, the bar was especially busy. There was no empty chairs and only one available spot near the bar. If Rhett stayed, his bodyguard would be quite uncomfortable. Rhett had just decided to opt for plan B when he saw Camila Marple walk through the door. Since Moira’s death, it had been awhile since Rhett had seen his former almost-roommate.
“Camila Marple!” Rhett beamed. He reached forward to shake her hand.
Many different sights had greeted Camila every time she walked into Last Shot, but this was one she would never have been able to predict. Rhett Wyatt standing with hand outstretched, like he was welcoming her aboard a cruise ship.
The urge to beam back and say ‘Rhett Wyatt!’ was great but instead Camila adjusted her purse extended a hand and offered a smile. “Mr. Wyatt. How are you?”
“Quite alright,” Rhett said. Which was about as low on the How Are You response scale as Rhett ever went in a public place. “How are you? It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. I heard you moved back in with your parents?”
“I’m fine considering,” Camila gave a vague gesture and a shrug. It wasn’t everyday that your boss was murdered. “I did, for now anyway. It’s nice to be around family. Are you still staying at the Inn?”
“I can imagine,” Rhett said, about it being nice to be around family. He actually did have to imagine, but he could do it. “I’m afraid not,” Rhett said. “I liked being in close proximity to the rest of the crew, but my security team didn’t feel the establishment was secure enough in light of what happened. I’ve moved to a private residence.”
He looked around to make sure no one was listening before he leaned in a little and lowered his voice. “If you don’t want to wait here or risk being questioned by the crime bloggers, I happen to have an excellent bottle of scotch in my car.”
Camila tried to imagine exactly what it might be like to have a team dedicated to her security. Not very private, but maybe the invasion of privacy was worth the feeling of safety. An actor of Rhett’s calibur was bound to have stalkers and overzealous fans. And then there was the fear that came from seeing your co-star murdered.
A small voice in the back of her mind told Camila that this would only flame certain rumors, but that wasn’t something she’d ever mention. She glanced around the bar before answering, suddenly suspicious of every unfamiliar face. “That would be really nice actually, if you don’t mind?”
“I’d love the company.” Rhett’s smile warmed. He offered her an arm and lead her out. “We can go somewhere if you’d like.” Rhett liked Camila and wanted her to be comfortable.
“So,” Rhett said. “In light of everything, what’s your next move?” Camila’s circumstances were unique to the others. Her role in the film had been entirely tied up with Moira. Would she go back to LA? Stay? Rhett didn’t know.
What was her next move? There were options. There were logical next steps but that didn’t seem to help Camila feel better for some reason. “I was going to email a couple of old contacts -- start nosing around for jobs.” She bit the inside of her cheek with a contemplative shrug. “Are you doing okay?”
“You need a job?” Rhett’s eyebrows perked. He shook his head a moment later. “Honestly, I have come to regret taking this job in the first place,” he said. “Moira was, well, you know.” Camila knew Moira very well. “She could be difficult, most of the time she was, but she could also be rather endearing when she wanted to be.”
“Yes.” It almost sounded like a question. “I have to stay here a while because of the --” a vague gesture, “but I do need a job.” Camila was silent for a few seconds. She did know exactly what Moira was. “She could be.” She agreed. “It’s hard to understand why anyone would …”
Rhett was also quiet, but he quickly forced himself out of that headspace. “It is impossible to imagine. It’s been weeks and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it.” He shook his head, before he looked back at Camila. “I’m looking for an assistant,” he said. “You’d be the most qualified applicant.” It was just a thought.
Camila’s pensive frown quickly evaporated. That would certainly be an easy solution. Ideal even. Rhett couldn’t possibly be any worse to work for than Moira. No one could. “You wouldn’t mind if I put in an application?”
“If you’re interested, I’d put it at the top of my stack.” A sly but warm smile accompanied Rhett’s wink. Camila was a good assistant. Those were rare and hard to come by.
“I am.” It seemed like a perfect solution, really, and Camila offered a smile. “I’ll get you a resume first thing tomorrow.”
“Excellent,” Rhett said. “I look forward to it.” His smile spread before he opened his car door. “Now let’s see about that scotch.”