“An appetite is a good sign. So, are you ready for a big old dose of news?”
“Holly already filled me in.”
“Oh really? Did she tell you there are news crews lining up to talk to you?”
His head jerked up. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a big story. A billionaire and his son rescued by a lone hero firefighter. There’s even visuals. Some teenagers having a campout saw the flames and got out their iPhones.”
He groaned and pushed away the food. Then remembered that he was still ravenous and took it back. “I’m not going on the news or any of that shit. Not feeling like this.”
“Don’t tell me, I’m not your PR agent.” She leaned backwards to grab a messenger bag she’d brought with her. “But Peggy showed me some of the emails the fire station is getting. Most are favorable, but there’s always someone who isn’t happy. Some people think you should have let the billionaire drown.”
He took the printouts she handed him and scanned through them. Fan mail. Huh. The closest he’d ever gotten to fan mail before was the occasional heartfelt kid’s drawing after he rescued a cat from a tree.
Speaking of which…he longed for his dog right now. He’d even allow him to spread his hairy bulk across the foot of his bed. “Rusty hasn’t gone after any reporters yet, has he?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Is it safe to bring him here?”
“You miss your dog, huh?”
“I’m a nine-year-old boy at heart.”
Kendra cocked her head at him. Sympathetically, he thought? But he couldn’t be sure because the Tylenol was kicking in and his eyes wanted to close. “I can bring Rusty to you. Are you saying you want to hang out here for a while longer? Are you in hiding?”
“Until I’m up to facing news cameras, if it’s okay.”
“It’s fine. Gina worked it out.”
An idea came to him. Another chance for Kendra to show off her skills. “I wasn’t the only one there that night. Why don’t you handle the media? You’re much better at that shit than I am. Remember our public speaking class, when I started my speech with ‘Hello, I’m Jason Moosedale?’”
She laughed. “Iconic. But you’re better at that kind of thing now. People want to hear from the hot firefighter, not the witness.”
“The sexy witness,” he corrected as he sank back on his pillows. “Come on, this is the perfect chance to show everyone how well you can represent the town.”
Looking exasperated, she threw up her hands. “How many times do I have to prove myself?”
“To me, none. But I know those older folks. It might take them a while, but they usually end up in the right place. You have to push them, without making it obvious that you’re pushing them.”
“But they already think I’m too pushy and have too many ideas.”
He squinted at her. Fatigue was dragging him down again, but she had a point. “Okay, then forget them. Do it for me. You’re a star. You’ll make us look good.”
She scooted closer to him on the bed. “When did you come up with this brilliant plan? While you’ve been fighting a hundred and two degree fever and hallucinating?”
“How do you know I’ve been hallucinating?”
“Because you kept talking about me getting naked. And that hasn’t happened.”
Good God. Had he really talked in his sleep about his Kendra fantasies? “Hallucinations aren’t the same as fantasies.”
“Are fantasies the same as premonitions?”
That wicked wink could only mean one thing. “Can we just pause this whole conversation until I feel better?” he begged. “So I can follow up with actual actions?”
She laughed and slid off the bed. He looked up at her, so bright and confident. She wore a short fawn-colored suede jacket over a white blouse. Perfect for killing it on the TV news. Some network would probably want to hire her as an anchor after she showed off her skills. “Let’s talk later after you feel better. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“Rus--”
“Besides Rusty. I’ll be back with him later.”
“One more thing. Holly said a certified letter came from Caldwell. I want to see it.”
“About that…” She fingered with the flap of her messenger bag. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk about that yet.”
“Tell me. Before I drop off a cliff here.”
She sighed. “Holly got it wrong. He’s donating half a million dollars to the fire department, not to you personally. Hey, are you okay?”
A broad smile was slowly spreading across his face, matching the sense of relief flooding through him. “Good, thanks.”
“Good? You aren’t disappointed? I didn’t want to be the one to crush your dreams, but are you actually happy he’s not giving you that money?”
His eyelids were getting dragged down by lead weights, and his speech sounded slurred. “Sssssuper happy.”
“You don’t want to be a millionaire?”
Sleep knocked him out like someone pushing him into a river, and as he floated off into the darkness, he heard himself say the thing he avoided admitting at all costs, even to Holly. “I’m already a millionaire.”
Twelve
Jason had always had a great sense of humor, but being able to joke while falling asleep with a fever was next level. It kept Kendra in good spirits all the way through her time in front of the news cameras.
Two stations from Minneapolis had sent crews, along with someone from a cable news channel. They all rented separate boats to get shots of the debris still floating on the surface, which added up to a mini-economic boom for local boat-owners.
She gave animated interviews to each station, describing what she’d witnessed and showing them the kayak that she’d dragged into the water to rescue Tyler.
“I was always confident that they would make it, because I have complete faith in the fire department here in Lake Bittersweet.” She made sure to repeat the town’s name at every opportunity. “Of course no one knew they were rescuing a billionaire, because that kind of thing doesn’t matter here. Every visitor to our town is important. We don’t let any of them drown.”
It was fun making news crews laugh.
“If you guys are interested in more local color, did you know that the Blue Drake was started by the late Steven Gault?”
Everyone ought to know that, but things tended to get lost in the shuffle so it was worth pointing out.
“The Freaks guy?” asked one of the reporters, a sandy-haired kid who was probably actually an intern trying to get some experience.
“That’s right. One of his closest friends runs that restaurant. Are y’all familiar with Alvin ‘Redfish’ Carter?”
None of them were, which pissed her off so much she nearly forgot her real purpose here.
“If you get a chance, check out his catalogue. He’s a legend. The point is, I’m not at all surprised that a billionaire would choose to vacation here. I’m just happy we were able to get him to safety, thanks to our stellar fire department, and especially our own Jason Mosedale.”