Del nodded. “Maybe.” He looked at her. “Was I wrong to go?”

Not a question she was comfortable with, mostly because she felt responsible for what had happened. “You were young and hurt and feeling trapped. Leaving made sense.”

“I don’t think I would have been happy here. It was too easy to be somewhere else.”

“Anywhere else,” she corrected. “It’s not like you settled down at all. Some people like to be on the move. You’re one of them.” She came to a sudden stop. “It’s not my fault. You leaving. It would have happened anyway.”

He faced her. “Maya, it was never your fault. Did you think it was?”

“I’ve had guilt.”

“You shouldn’t. You didn’t want to marry me. That’s okay. You get to choose.”

They’d already been over what had happened. She’d apologized and he’d accepted her apology, so she wasn’t going to go there again. But this was an interesting twist on what they’d gone through.

“You wouldn’t have been happy married to me,” she said. “Not if it meant staying here. Wow, that would have been interesting.”

“Me bugging you to leave town? Would you have gone?”

“I don’t know.”

They started walking again.

“Because you want to be in one place,” he said.

“Why do you think that?”

“You moved to LA and never left. Now you’re here.”

“A lot of that was about my job.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad.” He motioned to the houses they passed. “Settling down is normal. I’m pointing out that you’ve never had a burning desire to see the world.”

She thought about her scrapbook. Were those actual dreams or just idle wishes? “Travel sounds fun,” she admitted. “To always be seeing new places. What’s your favorite part of going somewhere different?”

“Meeting the local kids. They’re curious about everything. Especially America.”

“Sure. They’ve seen snippets from TV shows and movies, but that’s not real. It’s too bad there’s not a way to share what things are really like. Sort of like those day-in-a-life documentaries, but geared for schoolkids. Here’s a school day for a regular kid in Baltimore. Here’s a school day for a regular kid in Melbourne. If they had the same format, students would get the rhythm of them right away. Know there was going to be a section on sports, or lunchtime. Children like repetition. It’s one of the reasons they like to hear the same story every night, to watch the same...”

Maya realized Del was no longer next to her. She turned and saw he was back a few feet, looking bemused.

“What?” she demanded.

“It’s a good idea,” he said, walking toward her. “The idea of using a consistent format is a good one. You’re right about the repetition. I never thought of that. It could be an ongoing series.”

“Sure. Focus on regular kids at first, then expand. What is it like to be the daughter of the president? The son of a movie star or sports hero? To live on the streets in India? Seeing is believing.”

He caught up with her. “You’re good.”

She smiled. “I can brainstorm with the best of them. Believe me, when your topic is celebrity gossip, you find ways to make the most mundane seem interesting.”

They started walking again. She thought about the potential for the project. There were so many ways to make it appealing, and not on a big budget, either. Not that Del needed her help.

“I never meant to get stuck in LA,” she said, knowing it didn’t matter, but needing him to know. “I always thought I would end up somewhere else.”

Which could have been the problem, she admitted, if only to herself. Ending up wasn’t the same as executing a plan. It was still being tossed around by circumstances.

“Now you’re here,” he said. “That’s somewhere else.”

She nodded, thinking she should be grateful for that. They turned left on Second. But this job had just kind of happened. She hadn’t been looking for it. Mayor Marsha had come to see her. What was up with that? Maya always prided herself on getting the details right in her stories, but not in her own life.

“What are you thinking?” Del asked. “You’re looking fierce.”

“Just thinking about not making decisions. Inaction is its own plan—not a good one, but there is always an outcome.”

“Wondering if you should have actively planned more?”

“Maybe. Or at least thought about what I wanted.” She drew in a breath. “A network job, which isn’t going to happen. So I’m a behind-the-camera girl now.”

“One of the best.”

She smiled. “Thanks. I’ll accept the compliment, even though you have no point of comparison.”

“You’re better than me.”

She pressed her lips together.

“Hey,” he said, in mock annoyance. “I’m not that bad.”

“You’re perfectly adequate. Better than most with your level of training.”

He put his arm around her and drew her against him.

“Stop trying to shield my feelings,” he teased. “Just tell it to me straight.”

She smiled up at him. “You’re a dabbler. A cute dabbler, but a dabbler all the same.”