ones? I’m quite familiar with his entire body of work.”
As they ate their salads, the woman told her about each piece in detail and Mackenzie nodded appreciatively. She felt the heat from Dom’s eyes on her back and she purposely played with a lock of her hair and twirled the stem of her wineglass. She was so not going to turn around.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Forrest said. “Here I am droning on and on about myself. How about you? How do you know Martin?”
Before Mackenzie could reply, Martin’s voice boomed from behind her. She turned around and saw Dom staring at her through lowered lids. He looked dreamy and way too sensuous. Dragging her gaze away, she concentrated on Martin.
“Mackenzie was one of my best students at the University of Washington. She’s a talented young artist and I couldn’t bear to let her go at the end of the term. A few years ago I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.” He tilted his head back with an infectious laugh that invited company, and a few others at the table joined in, including Dom. “Right, darling?” Martin asked.
Mackenzie bit back her laughter and smiled awkwardly. All eyes at the table turned to her, but the only set she was aware of was the ice blue pair to her left.
“Martin was kind enough to offer me a job teaching beginning art students—”
“Yes, and she came up with a brilliant lesson plan where she takes them on a walking tour of the various local galleries, then puts what they’ve observed into their own work in the studio. In addition to that—”
“Martin, please.”
Ignoring her protest, he continued. “In addition to being an artist, she’s also a skilled photographer. She works for a location scout in town. You know—movie locations.” Excitement tinged his voice and he sat forward in his seat. Like everyone else, he thought her part-time job was glamorous. If only she felt the same way.
“Oh, how wonderful. That sounds so exciting. Just what does a location photographer do?” Mrs. Forrest leaned forward as well, clasping her gnarled fingers under her chin.
Mackenzie squirmed in her chair and rearranged the food on her plate.
“We get a spec sheet from the production company, spelling out what they’re looking for at each shooting location. I research possible sites, taking pictures and measurements and my boss—my other boss, not him—” she inclined her head in Martin’s direction “—handles all the permits and permissions. Sometimes he has ideas for me but other times, I do the research myself.”
“So what film are you working on now?”
“I’m not allowed to say specifically, but a potential client wants to shoot some scenes at a cemetery. So that’s what I’ve been working on based on their specific needs. I’ve got a few more sites to photograph before I’m done. The port. A beach with a cityscape in the background— I’ll head over to West Seattle for that one. But it’s the cemetery I’m having the most trouble with.” She touched a finger to her forehead, remembering the migraine.
“You’d think that’d be easy,” Dom said. “There are plenty of cemeteries around here.”
Determined to ignore him, she turned to Mrs. Forrest and continued. “It needs to be somewhat dark, very oppressive, and not too far from the city. It’s expensive to take all the film equipment too far.”
“That’s a little frightening, don’t you think?” asked Mrs. Forrest. “How do you do it, dear?”
Mackenzie leaned in and lowered her voice. “When I’m out shooting remote locations, I carry a gun.”
Mrs. Forrest gasped. “Oh, goodness. Do you know how to use the thing?”
“Well, yes. I’ve been using one for years. My mother started taking both me and my brother to the shooting range when we were old enough to legally carry a gun.”
Please stop and move onto someone else. Surely someone else at this table would be more interesting to talk to.
“You must be a terrific shot. Do you have it with you now?”
“No. Not enough room in this little thing.” She winked at Mrs. Forrest and shook her clutch. “And nowhere to strap a holster on this outfit.”
Everyone at the table laughed. Good, now maybe the conversation would turn elsewhere. She threw a glance in Dom’s direction and he looked down his nose at her, his lips turned up as if he was trying not to give her a haughty smile. He was so irritating. She wondered if he practiced. She flipped her hair and turned away.
Words like fascinating and exciting swirled around the