The Best Man to Trust - By Kerry Connor Page 0,3

felt it roll along her skin and nearly shuddered.

She managed to meet the bluest eyes she’d ever seen without wavering. “Of course not,” she said, her voice thankfully steady. “Obviously we have plenty of room.” She waved a hand toward the cavernous space around them to emphasize the point.

As she did, the lights chose that particular moment to flicker once, then twice, before steadying, as though to demonstrate the precariousness of the power. “Now we just need electricity,” she said with a chuckle, deliberately keeping her tone light in response to the nervousness that passed across her guests’ faces. “Fortunately, we have a generator if the power goes out. We’ll be fine.”

The anxiety gradually faded from their expressions, exactly as she’d intended. Fortunately she had plenty of experience trying to appease disgruntled moods. With any luck she wouldn’t have to rely on it too much over the next few days.

Five days, she thought faintly. Today was Thursday. They were scheduled to leave Monday. They would be here for five days.

Tom Campbell would be here for five days.

Behind the group, Rick hurried into the entryway with a few bags, closing the door behind him. Everyone must be accounted for. “Now then,” Meredith said. “Why don’t we show you to your rooms so you can get settled in? We can take care of your bags later. Our cook is working on dinner as we speak, so I hope you’re all hungry.”

The statement was met with a chorus of cheers and excited chatter, confirming she’d managed to put her guests back in a good mood. As she turned toward the stairs to lead the way up, she felt her own tension ease the slightest bit.

Everything’s going to be fine, she told herself again.

She just hoped there wouldn’t be any more surprises this weekend.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

Tom Campbell tilted his head back and surveyed the high ceiling and ornate chandelier suspended overhead. “It’s really something,” he said, knowing it had to be the understatement of the year.

“That it is,” Scott said with a chuckle. “Bet you’re glad you brought a camera with you, aren’t you?”

Tom forced a chuckle of his own. “Something like that.”

“Who knows? Maybe you could use some place like this for a new show.”

“Maybe.” Tom kept his eyes up, resisting the impulse to clench his jaw. He was no stranger to having people pitch ideas for shows to him. Once they found out he worked in television, they inevitably wanted to share the great idea they’d always had for a series. But he knew Scott wasn’t trying to sell his own idea. His old friend was trying to be helpful, supportive. Instead, all he was doing was reminding Tom of the fact that he was currently unemployed.

He knew he was luckier than a lot of people. He’d gotten to spend six years doing his dream job, which was more than many people could say in their entire lifetimes. As an on-site producer and cameraman for On the Wild Side, a reality/documentary series that traveled to some of the most spectacular and remotest places on earth, he’d gotten to see and experience things most people never would. But just as they’d been preparing to leave to shoot the new season, the network had informed them they’d been canceled.

He’d known there was a chance it was coming. The signs were there. But they’d already been renewed, and at the very least he’d thought they’d be able to complete one final season. They’d been ready to go out with a bang. Instead, the journey had come to an abrupt end.

One of the lone upsides of his sudden unemployment was that he’d been able to make Scott’s wedding after all. And it brought him to an entirely different kind of spectacular and remote place.

Tom had gotten to see some amazing locales, but he’d certainly never seen anything like Sutton Hall, at least not in person. He hadn’t been able to get much of an impression of the outside of the building through the snow—only enough to tell that it was massive, the immense stone structure towering several stories high and seeming to stretch the full length of the mountain it sat upon. But the inside was even more incredible, far more elegant and lavish than any hotel he’d ever been in. It was so impressive it was almost possible to forget what had happened here so recently.

Almost.

“And it really doesn’t make you nervous getting married here?” he had to ask.

“I’m trying not to