Hometown Star

chapter Seventeen

“You did a fabulous job in Alaska,” Frank said.

Star tossed her purse in her desk drawer, kicking it closed with a high heel. “Thanks. Did I miss anything good while I was gone?”

“Same old, same old here,” Frank said. “Vivienne didn’t return home with us from the Fairbanks segment. Rumor is she’s with some guy she met at a local bar.”

Star bit back a smile. “Really?”

“Yes. Who knew that she’d like the rugged outdoor type?”

“Who knew?” Star agreed, thinking she could say the same for herself. Thinking about Cade sobered her instantly.

Frank gave her a sideways look. “You okay?”

“Sure.” She’d never suffered heartache before, but she was pretty sure she had a case of it now. But she’d survive it. She’d survived much worse.

“You seem a little off,” Frank said. “Sad.”

Star forced a smile. “It wasn’t exactly a pleasure trip for me. I had to settle my aunt’s estate, remember?”

“Of course I do. Was it hard, going back?”

“Yes and no.” Star rifled through a stack of papers on her desk. “When do you leave for Alaska?”

“Sunday morning.”

She nodded. “What’s next for me?”

“Finish up Bigger, Bolder, Brighter, then it’s on to a tree house. Up north. Canada.”

“A tree house?” Star echoed, intrigued. “Canada? Anywhere near Vancouver?” She thought of her mom and John. Maybe she could visit if they were near the shoot.

“A little more north than that. The tree house is rough. Bare bones. We are going to turn it into something spectacular. You leave two weeks from today.”

“Sounds interesting,” she said, still thinking about her mom, wondering if she could at least take a side trip through Vancouver.

Frank tossed a file on her desk. “Read up on it. You’ll be working with Carrie Shaw on this one.”

Carrie Shaw was a favorite designer of Star’s. Carrie loved architecture as much as Star did. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Stop by my office after you’ve had a chance to catch up and we can chat more about the tree house.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Frank.”

Star spent the morning sifting through her mail and organizing her desk. Before lunch she downloaded the rest of the pictures from her camera into a file marked Alaska Men.

She clicked through the images, starting with the Fairbanks house, then the Anchorage house, and finally the Seward house. There were three hundred photos of Evan’s place.

Frank walked by, poking his head into her office. “Lunch?”

“I’d love some.” Star was about to click out of the folder when Frank said, “Are those the Alaska houses?”

“Yes.”

“Let me have a peek.”

“I’ve already sent you most of these,” Star said, clicking through the images. “Here’s Evan’s house, see?”

Star clicked. Cade’s house filled the screen.

Frank leaned closer. “Wait, what’s this?”

“The O’Brien place,” Star told him. “They own the land my aunt’s trailer sat on.” Star’s heart lurched at the thought of Patsy’s place no longer sitting on that land.

“More. I want to see more,” Frank said, his face lighting up. “This house is fabulous.”

“It’s a great old Victorian,” Star told him, catching his enthusiasm. She’d taken a lot of photos of the house, both exterior and interior.

“Who’s that?” Frank asked when a picture of Cade filled the screen.

“Cade O’Brien. He owns the house.” A wave of longing hit her full force. Her fingers tightened on the mouse. Was she going to cry? No way.

Star clicked past Cade, neatly erasing him from her mind. She kept clicking. Photos of Emma, Finn, and Brad flashed past. Brandi and Will. More Cade. Destiny, John, Ernie. She didn’t want to see any of them.

“You took a lot of pictures of those people,” Frank commented.

“Too many.” Star exited out of the file. She needed air. “Let’s have lunch.”

“It’s a great house, Star.” Frank’s forehead creased. “But something tells me it’s not the house you love, but the people who live in it.”

“Don’t read so much into a bunch of photos, Frank.” She stood. “Come on. I’m starving.”

Frank didn’t argue with her, and Star was glad. Because deep down, she knew he was right.

* * *

A little after six p.m. Star left her office and started for home. She’d been home a week now, but today had been the worst. Just knowing that Frank and the rest of the crew had arrived in Seward yesterday had left her with an upset stomach and an exhaustion she hadn’t been able to shake the past few days. She craved sleep, needed sleep, making her think her period was due. She often experienced a heavy sleep pattern right before her time of the month. And while this made her happy, she was also distracted, wondering about Evan, the project, and Cade.

Cade had called her, but she hadn’t picked up his calls. She wasn’t strong enough to hear his voice. What good would it do to foster the connection between them? They had no future.

Star made her way from the car to her condo. Several packages were propped against the front door. The paintings. Her heartbeat picked up. Star opened the door and lugged the four boxes inside. Did she want to open them? She stared at the brown packages so long her eyes went dry. In the end, she couldn’t unwrap them. Her fragile psyche kept her from taking the trip down memory lane.

Depressed, Star inhaled, taking in the new smells, needing the scents of her modern condo like an addict needed a drug. These were the smells she loved, new carpet, fresh paint, shiny hardwood. She kicked off her heels and went upstairs to her bedroom.

Star sat on the edge of the bed, then fell backward onto the softness of her new, white duvet cover. Pure heaven. She was home. Home. She willed her mind to go blank and simply absorbed the quiet. No birds singing. No rain hitting the aluminum roof of the double–wide. No kids pestering her. This was the life. The one she wanted.

Her pity party over, Star decided she should probably eat, even though she wasn’t really hungry. She got up and slid her aching feet into comfortable slippers. In the kitchen, she opened the freezer and selected a frozen dinner, popping it in the microwave. She’d gained five pounds in Alaska. Her pants were tight. Since returning home, she’d made it a priority to take the weight off.

Ding.

She took the dinner from the microwave, grabbed a fork, and made her way to the couch. Star turned on the TV and took a bite of chicken in orange sauce. She caught the end of a rival design show. The chicken tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Fake food. Not real food like she’d had at Cade’s. What she wouldn’t give for some homemade chicken potpie!

Star tossed her fork on top of the uneaten dinner. She picked up the remote control cruising through the channels, stopping when a promo for Update This! Alaska Men came on.

There they were, her three Alaska guys. Several shots of Alaska followed. The beauty of the land caught her off guard. Maybe she was a hometown girl. She missed the place. Suddenly, busy, overcrowded Seattle didn’t seem so great.

Star quickly switched off the TV. Time for her to cowboy–up. She didn’t need any of it, not the space, not the air, and certainly not the man.

The ring of the phone startled her. Star pressed the talk button.

“Hello?”

“Star, it’s Frank.”

“Hey, Frank,” she said, sitting back down on the couch. “How’s it going?”

“Not well,” Frank barked into the phone. “I need you up here, now.”

“Me?” Star asked, startled by the command. “Why?”

“It’s Vivienne. Did you know she was sleeping with our Seward guy?” Frank didn’t give her time to answer. “Well, she was. Not only that. She broke up with him. He’s gone, took off in that plane of his for parts unknown. Meanwhile, I’ve got a crew up here, costing me thousands every day and no house to update.”

“What?” Star struggled to let the news sink in. “What does Vivienne have to say?”

“Nothing. Not a damned thing. She’s missing. She’s fired. I’ve put up with her French crap long enough.”

“Frank, come on,” Star said, trying to placate him. “Think. Can the shoot be put off?”

“No. We’re here. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Star said.

“That house. The Victorian. I want to use it and I need you to make it happen.”

“Cade would never go for it, Frank.”

“Are you listening to me, Star?” Frank bellowed. “I’ve already asked him.”

Disbelief raced through her, along with a million questions. “What? How? How did you find him?”

“Easy,” Frank said. “I just described the house and people gave me directions. This O’Brien fella said okay with one condition, that you’re involved. He trusts you, Star.”

“No, Frank,” Star said, searching her mind for possible excuses. She didn’t want to see Cade. Not yet. She was still trying to get over him. “I can’t. I have too much work to do here. Plus, renovation takes weeks of pre–production. We don’t have the time.”

“You’re a pro,” Frank said. “You can piece things together quickly. You know the area, the businesses. Hotel and catering are done. Dump the rest of your work on Suzy. Vivienne is out. Carrie Shaw is in. I’ve booked a nine a.m. flight for you both. Filming will be delayed until Wednesday to get you both up to speed. Get Carrie all the photos you have of the kitchen. I don’t care if the two of you have to stay up all night, but when you get here tomorrow, I want a design done. You can help Carrie. You know the family, know their tastes.”

“Frank that kind of design takes time,” Star protested.

“This could mean a promotion for you, Star. Flight. Nine a.m. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Frank,” Star said, her mind stuck on the word promotion. “I’ll call Carrie right now.”

“I knew I could count on you, Star.”

The line went dead.

Holy smoke. A possible promotion. She was going back to Alaska. Her stomach did a funny jump. Cade had asked for her, the rat. She was going to see him. The kids. Trudy, Ron, and Daniel. Brandi, Bud, and Will.

But to what end? More heartache when she had to leave them for the second time?

Star glanced over at the picture on her fridge—the one Emma had drawn of her, Cade, and the kids. She got up. At the fridge, she flipped the drawing over, pinning it back on with the magnet. The blank page stared back at her. Clean and neat, just like her life.

Satisfied, she picked up the phone and punched in Carrie’s number.

* * *

Star stared out the window of the rented SUV watching the rain run in rivulets down the glass. She glanced over at their driver, Bill. He’d picked them up from the airport, and he didn’t look any happier about the crummy weather than she did. Traffic had been terrible due to a rollover accident just outside of Anchorage. The delay had added an extra hour to their drive.

Her stomach fluttered as the SUV made the turn into Cade’s driveway. It was almost four p.m. Would he be home? Or would he be out fishing? She’d spent the entire morning imagining how their meeting would go. Would he be aloof? Would he hug her? Kiss her?

“There it is,” Carrie said from the back seat. “It’s gorgeous. The outside could use a little TLC, too. I’ll have to think about that.”

Star devoured the house with her eyes. To her, the place looked like home. Vehicles were parked everywhere. A sign on the front lawn said Update This! Alaska Men. Members of the crew milled around, some using oversized orange and blue umbrellas stamped with the Update This! logo, a big U atop a T. A large tent had been set up on the front lawn to house their big carpentry equipment and to give the crew shelter from the driving rain.

She didn’t see any of the O’Briens. Not even Snowbell. They were probably huddled inside next to the fireplace.

Frank spotted them, an umbrella in hand; he broke away from a group of men, striding toward them. Her boss was in high gear, wearing the stressed out scowl he reserved for when they were about to go to tape.

The SUV stopped. Star and Carrie exited the vehicle. Star reached back inside for her purse and her laptop.

“Thank God you’re here,” Frank thundered. He took Star’s arm, pulling her under the umbrella with him. “Why didn’t you tell me it’s so wet here it’s like a cow peeing on a flat rock?” Before she could reply, he said, “O’Brien isn’t the easiest guy to work with. I need you, Star. March right in there and smooth things over with him. He’s dragging his feet, waiting for you. I don’t know what he’s got to be upset about. We’ve compensated him for his loss of income. He’s sittin’ pretty, damn it.”

“Calm down, Frank,” Star said, frowning. “I tried to warn you.” She glanced around. “Besides, I don’t see Cade’s truck. Is he even here?”

“He’s here. His kid took the truck.”

Star smiled. “Brad? The grounding must be over.”

“I don’t give a rat’s patutie about the kid,” Frank said. “Time is money, Star. Go and use your wiles on O’Brien. The guy looks like he hasn’t been laid in years.”

“Gee, Frank,” Star said dryly, “I didn’t know you were my boss and my pimp.”

“Oh, crap. I guess that wasn’t exactly a PC comment.” Frank gave her a twisted smile. “Sorry. Will you please go in and talk to O’Brien?”

“Sure.”

“Carrie,” Frank shouted, as if the designer were across a football field instead of three feet away. “Let’s see what you’ve got. It better be good or this guy will walk and we’ll be hung out like wet, and I do mean wet, laundry on a hot summer day.”

Frank left her in the rain. Star started for the house. Before she reached the door it opened and Emma and Finn ran out.

“Star!” Emma cried.

“Star,” Finn echoed.

The kids mobbed her, throwing their arms around her, jumping up and down.

“Hey, you two,” Star said, her hands cupping their heads. And it wasn’t enough. She needed more of them. Star squatted, taking them into her arms, inhaling their kid scent: baby shampoo and fresh air. “I’ve missed you guys.”

“We missed you, too, Star,” Emma said.

“It’s not as fun without you,” Finn told her. “Trudy’s busy all the time. And the baby cries and cries.”

Emma nodded. “He does, Star. He’s real loud.”

Star smiled, then laughed, a strange lightness invading her spirit. “I guess he’s doing what he’s supposed to do. Come on, let’s get inside. I’m soaked, and so are you.”

She stood, and they ran into the house. “Is your dad here?” she asked when they were in the foyer.

Emma nodded. “He’s in the kitchen talking to some men.”

Star shrugged out of her wet coat and hung it on the coat rack. Quickly, she ran a hand over her hair, but feared she looked a little like a drowned rat—and she wanted to thank Frank for the image. Even she was starting to think in idioms.

“Come on.” Emma tugged on Star’s hand.

Finn ran ahead. “Dad. Star’s back.”

Star let Emma pull her down the hall and into the kitchen.

Cade stood with Ed and Buck, two of the carpenters. He must have heard Finn because he turned away from the men. Her eyes met his, and for Star, everything else stopped.

“Star’s here,” Emma said in a singsong voice. “See, Daddy?”

“I see,” Cade said, his eyes on her.

Her heart began to beat again. Joy filled her chest. Was this what love felt like? She wanted to touch him, to kiss him, and even that wouldn’t be enough. Heaven help her, she’d missed him. She hadn’t realized how much until this moment. Her emotions felt raw, exposed, and she wasn’t sure how to conceal them from Cade.

“Will you excuse us?” Cade said to Ed and Buck without taking his eyes off Star.

“Sure,” Ed said, exchanging a knowing look with Buck.

Buck followed Ed from the room.

“Star,” Ed said as he passed.

Buck gave her a nod.

“Finn, Emma, will you leave us alone for a minute?” Cade asked.

“Aww, do we have to?” Finn grumbled.

“I want to be with, Star,” Emma said, stomping her little foot.

“Wait in the other room,” Cade said in an authoritative tone. “Just for a minute. I promise.”

“Come on, Finn,” Emma said, but Finn didn’t budge. She tugged on his shirt. “Daddy said.”

That made Finn move and he trailed after his sister.

Star could hear the tick of the clock on the wall. Her heart thundered in her chest.

“Hey,” she said softly, feeling sixteen again, shy and self–conscious.

“You don’t pick up my calls.” He walked toward her, sexy, rugged, and pure man.

“How are Trudy and the baby?” she asked, avoiding his question.

“Great. They’re upstairs.” He reached for her. A thin line of sexual attraction separated them.

“Asking for me was a dirty trick,” she said not sure if she wanted him to touch her. If he did, he’d win. She couldn’t resist him and they both knew it.

“It got you back here. Welcome home.”

She opened her mouth to tell him her home was in Seattle, but before she could speak, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

A dam of emotion burst inside her. Unable to help herself, Star moved into him, opening her mouth, taking his essence, his taste, inside her. Her palms flattened against his chest, then moved around his torso, reveling in the feel of his muscular body under the soft cotton of his T–shirt.

“Make out on your own time,” Frank growled. “We’ve got a show to do.”

They broke apart. Star’s wits totally scattered.

“My fault,” Cade said with a grin.

Frank leveled a let’s get down to business look at her. “Let’s get this show on the road. Carrie!”

Carrie hustled into the kitchen, her arms full of samples.

“Show Mr. O’Brien what we have in store for him,” Frank ordered.

“Happy to,” Carrie said brightly. She went to the breakfast bar and set down the samples, then turned to Cade. “Hi, I’m Carrie Shaw, your designer.” She extended her hand to Cade and he took it. “I have a lot to show you.”

“I’m Cade O’Brien.” He joined her at the counter.

“Star had a lot of input,” Carrie said. “I hope we’re on target with your vision for the room.” Carrie opened a book containing floor samples. “Here’s what we came up with. We want to modernize your kitchen, of course, but we want to do it in a way that stays true to the Victorian home. So yes, we are going to update, but we are also going to replicate, and by that, I mean we are going to stay true to the original kitchen. For instance, your sink. You have a farm sink, probably last updated in the 1950s. Here’s a photo of the sink I’d like to use. It’s modern, beautiful, but modeled after an old farm sink. See the design?” She pointed to the scroll pattern on the front of the sink. “It’s gorgeous.”

Cade watched as Carrie laid out the design, showing him colors, appliances, floor samples. While the designer talked, Star watched Cade. When he’d seen everything, he looked at Star.

“What do you think?” he asked, motioning her over.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Star said. “What do you think? It’s your house.”

“I’m fine with the house the way it is,” he said. “I want to know if you like it.”

“Why?” she asked, wondering what he was up to. Did he think he could lure her here permanently with a pretty new kitchen and hot kisses? Not happening.

She was about to tell him so when Frank said, “Just answer the question, Star,” in a tone that said, love it or lose your job.

“I love it, Cade,” she said. “I think the design is perfect for the house.”

“Perfect,” Cade said to Frank. “Let’s get started.”