LITMIR.BIZ

      WILL WISHED SHE’D PUT her glasses back on. She was too darned pretty to be a judge and he was having difficulty concentrating.

      His former career had been guaranteed to have women the world over flirting outrageously with him. He was sure that the judge, like any warm-blooded woman, would be impressed. But he didn’t want to talk about it. Not since the avalanche.

      “Ah, I’m between jobs at the moment, Your Honor,” he said, ignoring Matt’s groan of resignation.

      “In that case, what skills do you have that might be of use to the community?” She put her glasses back on and picked up a pen as though ready to take copious notes on his potential skills.

      Will had a college degree but no truly useful skills. Until today, that hadn’t bothered him. Until today, he hadn’t met a woman he wanted to impress as much as the new judge.

      “What was your most recent job?” she prompted.

      “Tell her!” Matt said under his breath.

      There was nothing else for it; he’d have to come clean. “I was a ski-movie actor,” he said, squirming with embarrassment. The movies were short on dialogue—long on action and death-defying stunts. Strange how he’d only come to realize that in the past couple of months.

      The judge paused in her note-taking and glanced up at him.

      “You’re a ski-movie actor?” Her tone told him exactly what she thought of that.

      “Yes, ma’am. Although it’s more stunt work than acting,” he said, trying to downplay the glamour image associated with acting. Stunt work sounded as though he had a genuine career. He named some box-office successes. “Perhaps you’ve heard of Vertical Slide? Extreme Dreams? Aspen Altitude?”

      The judge blinked. Guess not. Although it was tremendously lucrative, he wouldn’t be going back to the movies. He’d traveled for ten years doing what he loved most—skiing the world’s extreme terrain—but an avalanche had nearly claimed his life during shooting in the Andes two months ago. He’d been caught in dozens of avalanches before and, tragically, had friends die in them, but this time he’d come too close to death. Trapped and slowly suffocating while he awaited rescue, he’d reflected on his life and how pointless his career really was. Sure, the viewers enjoyed the action and probably the scenery, too, but the lifestyle was shallow, based on thrill-seeking, looking cool and never putting down roots. What had he really achieved that was worthwhile? What had he given back to his community? What would his epitaph say?

      “I’ve retired from that line of work,” he murmured.

      “So you have a lot of time on your hands?”

      Will winced. He wasn’t used to sitting still. “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Then what are you good at that could be utilized by the local community?” she asked, sounding exasperated.

      “Skiing, meeting women and ironing.”

      Will ignored Matt’s glare. It was true—he enjoyed ironing. He’d gotten up to more than his share of mischief as a kid and his mom’s punishment of choice was to make him do the ironing for their family of seven. In the process, he’d become an expert. Even Matt was impressed by his skill with an iron. He’d offer Matt several hours of free ironing to make up for the embarrassment he’d caused him over the protest.

      “Maybe I could work at the information kiosk on Main Street?” he suggested. “I know a lot about the town.”