So, we’ll begin shooting next Monday. The days can last anywhere from twelve to sixteen hours, depending on what we’re filming that day. Of course, you won’t always be expected to be on set, or always be in the scenes. We’ll do our best to give you a schedule with your tentative times, but we do ask that you be available on call in case we have to shift the schedule around. Does that sound okay?”

I said that it did, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Jed nod.

We were in a meeting with the team from Fix it Up, along with a few other members of our community. When Zoey had asked me to be involved just last week, I’d had no idea that filming would start so soon.

With the gallery about to open in two weeks, and filming starting on the Cherry Springs episode beginning next week, I had a feeling sleep would be a distant memory for me over the next few weeks.

It would all be worth it though.

Being involved in this show would be great advertisement for the gallery, and for Cherry Springs, and I didn’t mind the fact that the staff of Fix it Up would have my name on file if they ever needed someone to do a consult for another show.

“Great, we’ll email it over. See you at the Camu house on Monday morning.”

I gathered my things and walked out of the conference room of the hotel the Fix it Up people were staying at in town. When I was almost to the exit of the hotel, I heard footsteps behind me and Jed call out, “Hey, Serena, wait up.”

I looked over my shoulder and looked at him expectantly as he caught up to me.

“Can you believe it?” he asked with a grin.

“It is all happening pretty fast,” I replied, smiling in thanks when he held open the door for me.

“Where are you heading now? Do you have time to grab a drink? I’m keyed up and would love to talk it out with you … since we’re kind of in this together.”

I paused for a second, thinking it was odd that he’d ask me out. He wasn’t my biggest fan, after all, but since it was obvious that this wasn’t a date, and we were kind of in this together, I nodded and said, “Sure, but, it’s only like four in the afternoon … were you thinking coffee, or drinks drinks?”

He shrugged.

“Either works for me.”

“Okay, well, I still have some work to do this evening, so we’d better make it coffee,” I said, hoping I didn’t come off like an old fuddy duddy. I really did have to go to the gallery and put in a few more hours.

“Great, meet you at Strange Brew?” he asked, talking about the coffee shop that was on Main Street, right next to the gallery.

“Perfect,” I replied, then we left each other with a little wave.

I parked at the gallery, since I’d be going there afterwards, and walked into Strange Brew to see Jed already standing in line.

“What’ll you have?” he asked when I walked up behind him.

“Vanilla Chai, non-fat,” I replied.

“Pastry?” Jed asked.

I shook my head. “No thanks, I’m not hungry.”

“How about you grab us a table, and I’ll get the drinks.”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should let him get my drink or insist I buy my own. Then I thought, it’s just coffee, gave him a smile, and grabbed a table by the front window.

I pulled out my phone, checking my email and social media while I waited.

“They already sent the itinerary,” I told him when he placed my drink in front of me and sat across the table.

“Wow, they sure do work fast,” he said with a grin, blowing on his steaming cup before taking a sip.

“So,” I began, placing my hands around my cup, enjoying the warmth. “What do you think we’ll be doing?”

“Have you ever watched the show?”

I shook my head. That was a negative.

“Well, there’s a host, and the key people they have in charge of each area, like carpentry and design. Those people meet with the family to get an idea of what their dream house looks like, then come up with a plan. I don’t think we’ll come in until that plan is ready to be implemented. I’m sure we’ll be doing mostly grunt work, but I think it’s worth it for the free publicity.”

“Is it pretty popular?” Zoey had seemed to think it was, but she admitted to never having watched it herself.

“Yeah, people love it. It’s been on for about five years now, so it’s pretty established. The host has been on magazine covers and talk shows and stuff. She’s the one who gets the most attention, but the work they do is pretty fantastic. A little main stream, maybe, but nice all the same.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great. I have a lot going on right now, with the opening of the gallery right around the corner, but I think it’s worth it to fit this in as well.”

I took a sip, closing my eyes as I savored that first, spicy taste, then opened my eyes to see Jed watching me. Ignoring the tingle that ran through me at the bright-blue gaze, I narrowed my eyes and asked the question that had been plaguing me all week.

“So, are you going to let me showcase your river table, or what?”

Jed leaned back in his chair, all casual with a cocky, and dammit, sexy grin on his lips.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I will … for a price.”

“How much?” I asked, mentally calculating how much the gallery could afford in the budget.

“You let me buy your painting,” he replied softly, and my heart stopped.

“Why?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t tremble.

I gave my paintings to family members, and I had a few in my home, but not only had I never shown my work, I’d never sold it to anyone either.

“Because it makes me feel something, isn’t that what art is supposed to do? It makes me think. It speaks to me,” Jed leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table and hit me right in the gut when he added, “I need it.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, not verbally anyway; my body, however, was responding by getting heated. I could feel a flush on my skin.

It seemed so personal to think of my painting hanging somewhere in Jed’s home. Somewhere where he could look at it whenever he wanted to, to perceive it however he wanted to.

It was hard to get the words out of my throat, but I really, really wanted that table in the gallery, so I croaked, “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Jed said, sitting back up with a massive grin on his face.

I nodded, unable to say anything further.

“How much?” he asked, and I looked around to see if anyone was watching, or listening. “Sorry, is it uncouth to ask out loud? Should I email you?”

I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but didn’t reply to his questions. Instead I said, “It’s not for sale, but … you can have it.”