The Mighty Quinns: Dex

“What do you have?” Marlie asked. “Something to warm me up would be good.”

“Whiskey,” Dex murmured. “We need whiskey. Why don’t you sit down on the sofa. I’ll get the drinks, start a fire and then we’ll see what you have to say.”

Dex wandered back to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard above the sink. He took a long swallow, letting the alcohol burn a path down his throat and warm his body. “Get a grip. She’s just a girl. Just a pretty girl.”

* * *

“SO WHAT DO you think?” Marlie grabbed her glass of whiskey and took a slip. “Please tell me you at least find this interesting. I want your creative input. I—I realize it’s not the kind of project you usually do. But it’s a wonderful story, and she’s an incredible woman. You’re going to love her and—”

Dex pressed a finger to her lips and Marlie stopped. She’d made her pitch. Now it was time to let him do the talking. So she asked, “Do you have any questions? Or comments, maybe?”

He chuckled. “I have a lot of questions. But I’m not sure I should ask them.”

“No, I want you to. Challenge me. Argue with me. I want to know exactly what you’re thinking.”

“You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are, do you?” Dex shook his head and groaned. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. But it had to be said.” He turned her laptop toward him and stared at the old photo of Aileen Quinn.

Marlie watched him as he contemplated his decision. Watching the firelight dance over his face, she wanted to reach out and touch him, to lose herself in the wild sensations of desire and need that had raced through her when they’d kissed.

She couldn’t imagine they’d be able to go back to a professional relationship after that kiss, wasn’t even sure she wanted to. It had been quite a while since she’d had a man in her life. And she’d never been with a man quite as accomplished—and sexy—as Dex.

But if he felt that a professional relationship was required, she’d do her best to keep her distance.

“Miss Quinn is an interesting subject,” Dex said, “but I just don’t see a hook here. We’d just be making a filmed version of her biography.”

Marlie had held back the most interesting part of the story, hoping it might push him over the edge if he had any doubts. “Aileen Quinn had four older brothers. Shortly after she was born, her mother sent them off to different corners of the world, some with new families. Aileen just learned about her brothers last year and she’s been tracking down their descendants. They’re all gathering here in Ireland at Christmas for a big reunion, and we’re going to be there to talk to them. She’s still looking for one of the brothers, Conal, so that search will be part of the film, too. Maybe we’ll even find him.” She paused. “I was planning on using the search to structure the narrative.”

“That does make for an interesting story,” he admitted.

“And each of the heirs is getting a million dollars,” she said. “Give or take. It’s like winning the lottery. It’s changed their lives. And there are so many great stories to tell.”

He closed her laptop and rested his hand over it. “I have one big concern, though, and that’s your obvious admiration for Aileen Quinn.”

“I do admire her.”

“You have to maintain a proper distance from your subject so that you can see her objectively, warts and all. I won’t do this if you’re just looking to do a pretty story. You might have to make some tough choices, and I need to know that you’ll be able to do that when the time comes.”

Marlie shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“No one lives a perfect life, Marlie. And if you’re going to tell Aileen Quinn’s story, you need to tell the good parts along with the bad ones.”

“There are no bad parts,” Marlie said. “I’ve read her autobiography. She’s led an exemplary life.”

“Everyone has skeletons in their closet,” he said. “Our job is to find them.”

“No,” Marlie said. “I’m not going to turn this into some exposé.”

“I wouldn’t, either. I’m simply talking about discovering the truth of her story and making a movie about it. It’s all part of the person she is, and that’s the story we’re telling. The complete story. Can you do that?”

Marlie grabbed her laptop. “Yes, of course.” She could promise that. She knew that Aileen had lived a scandal-free life. Dex would discover that, and realize there were no skeletons to find.

“All right,” Dex said, getting to his feet. “I’ve got everything I wanted to know. Can I have some time to consider?”

“Sure,” Marlie said. “But not long. We’re scheduled to start shooting on Friday.”

“Friday?”

Marlie nodded. “I know it’s soon, but I didn’t think it would take this long to track you down and convince you.”

“Weren’t there any others on your short list?”

“No. Not really.”

“Well, if I decide not to do it, I’ll help you find someone else.”

“I don’t want someone else,” she said stubbornly. “I want you.”

“You’ve made that very clear,” Dex replied.

Marlie glanced at her watch, surprised to see that it was nearly 1:00 a.m. Getting to her feet, she wavered slightly, the effect of too much whiskey suddenly hitting her. “I should go. I’ve got a long drive back to Killarney.”

“You can’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”

Marlie ran her hands through her hair. “You’re right. Maybe I could call a car? A taxi?”

Dex stood and took her hand, then drew her back down onto the sofa. “I think it would be better if you stay here tonight.”

“No. I don’t have anything with me, and—and we would be asking for trouble.” She glanced down at their fingers, now tangled together so tightly that she couldn’t distinguish his hand from hers.

“I’d drive you myself, but I’ve had more to drink than you have. It will be fine. You can stay in one bedroom and I’ll stay in the other.” He placed her hand on her knee and drew his away. “If we’re going to be working together, we’re going to need to get used to hanging out together.”

“You’re going to do it?” Marlie asked, her heart leaping in her chest.

“I can’t think of a good reason why I shouldn’t. And I can think of one good reason why I should.”

“What is that? And please don’t say it’s because you like to kiss me.”

“No, I believe we could make a helluva good film.”

Still, Marlie wondered if his reason for accepting her offer had less to do with her proposal than what had happened when their lips met. But if they were going to spend the next few months working on the documentary, then they’d have to trust each other.

“Yes, the film will be wonderful,” she said. “So I guess I can have my people call your people and we’ll iron out the details of a contract?”

“All right. And tomorrow morning, we’ll get started.”