Page 37 of The Bodyguard's Fall

“Yeah. Don’t you, Detective?”

“I get enough of it at work, so I usually just watch sports.”

I slipped my feet out of my shoes and put my feet up on the dash. “Such a cliché.”

“I thought all girls were into romance. You’re not?”

I shrugged. “The type of romance I’m supposed to write is cheesy and overdone.”

“Why do you have to write it if you don’t like it?”

I sighed. “My company got into some legal trouble a year ago, so they had to make major changes to stay afloat. We were predominantly a family-friendly murder-mystery channel.”

Tate held up a hand, a delighted look on his face. “First question: could you tell me how you make murder family friendly?”

I cocked my head. “That just means they’re not graphic, and the language is mild. Anyway, some of the actors and writers got into some PR trouble and had some really bad publicity, and the company was almost run into the ground.”

At the question in his eyes, I added, “The actors and writers forgot who they were all married to and destroyed the family-friendly image of the company.”

“Ah.” Tate nodded, understanding immediately.

“Anyway, stocks and ratings plummeted. We broke the public trust. We lost sponsors. Social media started to boycott the company and all that. So my boss and her higher-ups decided to save the company by doing a complete one-eighty. They changed the company name and cleaned house—hired new actors and writers. But their ratings had been slowly tanking even before all of that, so they took this opportunity to focus on the fastest-rising genre in the nation.”

“Which is?” Tate asked.

“Family-friendly romance.” I couldn’t even say it without an edge to my voice. “The kind of movies you can watch with your eight-year-old and your grandmother.”

“Why is that bad?” he asked.

I shrugged, running my finger over the seam of my jeans. “It’s not. It just sets…unrealistic expectations.”

“So does an action hero who never runs out of ammo during the whole movie, but you don’t see me complaining.”

I snorted.

When I didn’t say anything else, he added, “For someone so sure she doesn’t like romance, you think it would be easier to answer the question.”

“Maybe it’s classified.”

He smiled. “Maybe you’re just a big chicken.”

“I used to watch them, but then I grew up and lost interest.”

“Just like that?” He pressed, doubtful.

I sighed. “Okay. Fine. A long time ago, I was watching a romance with Ari and Reese. We used to watch them all the time, but then, suddenly, the magic was gone. Bad acting. One-dimensional characters. No chemistry between the leads. No guy would really leave his high-paying career to become a farmer in Vermont. And while he’s on his knees, professing love to the little apple-orchard girlfriend, all I could think about was how many girls he probably had on the side at work.”

I knew I was saying too much, but I was on a roll and unable to stop. “Anyway, the magic bubble had popped. Eventually, I found true crime and loved the idea of writing something with a focus on justice, where the guy who ruined everybody’s life goes to jail.”

We both sat there in semi-stunned silence at the words I’d just spewed. I had gone to therapy for a short while after high school and had unpacked quite a bit of that, but it sure seemed like I hadn’t.

And then Tate spoke.

“This is completely unrelated, but have you talked to your dad lately?”

I pursed my lips and shook my head, irritated that I wanted to laugh right now. And even more annoyed when I actually did.

When I finally looked over at Tate, he was watching me with a little smile on his face.