“No. He didn’t even call. He showed up an hour ago and told me he’d lost track of time in the Hamptons because he was on a bender with the boys. He didn’t even seem sorry.”
“He knows he’s not in college, right?” We’d been having the same old discussions about Chas since she’d met him. Surely she could find someone more mature. Being on her own had to be better than being with Chas.
“I’m not sure he does. But his friends are the same now as they were back then, so they do the same things. Weekends are Party Central. Now that he’s rented this share of the Hamptons house for the summer, it’s gotten worse.”
“Sounds like you need to move on.” I drew a finger along the curved lines of the chandelier earrings I’d started on last night. I decided to work on those, and put the rest of the drawings in a pile on my desk.
“But I love the sex. I really do,” she whined.
“No dick is worth putting up with his lack of respect. You’re in the city that never sleeps. There must be plenty of penis in that place.”
“I’m starting to think you might be right. Maybe I should be like you and let my vagina shrivel up and die.”
“Hey, my vagina is still alive and kicking.” Her jokes about my desiccating vagina were getting old.
“If you say so. What else is new? Any hot men washed up on the beach?”
I groaned as I remembered Mrs. Wells’ prediction. “I saw Mrs. Wells earlier. She told me life was about to get difficult for me, there’s a storm brewing or something. Apparently, some man is about to appear and cause a bunch of trouble.” Was that how she’d phrased it?
“A man?” she asked, the decibels coming down the phone suddenly multiplying by a hundred.
“She’s way off. This is Worthington. My life can’t slide into turmoil if I don’t let it. You know she actually stole my yellow scarf?” Which reminded me I needed to retrieve my sodden carpet bag from where I’d left it to dry off on the porch. “So what are you going to do about Chas?” I headed out and found my bag where I’d left it. I pulled my scarf out and hung it over the wooden railing, and arranged the still-wet bag so it got as much air as possible.
“Mrs. Wells has always been completely on point whenever she’s given me a reading,” Ruby said.
I wished I hadn’t brought it up. I was never going to hear the end of it. And I didn’t want to think for a moment that she might be right.
“What else did she say?” Ruby asked.
I glanced across at the rental cottage. The light in the kitchen had gone off. “Nothing. Ruby, we were talking about Chas.”
“No we were not. Tell me more about this mystery man. Does he live in Worthington?”
“I doubt it. I know all eight hundred thirty-two people in this town.”
“So, she saw travel in your future. Interesting. Maybe you’re finally going to get your ass down here for a visit.”
I rolled my eyes. I hadn’t been back to New York since I left college early with just enough credit to scrape through graduation. And I had no plans to return. It held too many unpleasant memories. “Seriously. Can we go back to Chas?”
“If you promise to tell me when this man sweeps into town causing chaos.”
“Deal.” Any storms that hit Worthington, I’d watch from my porch under a blanket. There would be nothing to tell.
Four
Matt
I hadn’t washed dishes since . . . well I couldn’t remember ever doing the dishes. Even when I was in New York starting out, I ate takeout precisely so I didn’t have to. But I felt pretty good about the results as I folded the dish towel and placed it on the counter. It felt normal. Brian had tried to convince me to bring my assistant to Maine so they could fetch and carry for me. But I was enjoying having some time to myself. Back in Los Angeles, I worked most of the time. Even when I wasn’t on set, I read scripts, went to industry parties to network, or strategized with Brian and Sinclair.
Brian and Sinclair hadn’t wanted me to stay in Portland with the rest of the cast and crew. They thought it would be too much temptation. And I agreed to their suggestion of me renting somewhere on the coast. But for different reasons. I knew that I was on the right track and focused. There was no going back to my partying days. But I was looking forward to getting away from Los Angeles. It was good to finally get some downtime, to escape all the pressure that came with being in LA and that I put on myself.
The thunderstorm had passed and it was warming up again. Maine was hotter than I expected but there was a nice breeze trailing through the cottage now that I’d managed to get the kitchen window open. I was about to head out to do my daily push-up and crunch routine when my cell rang. I grabbed it from the console table.
“Hey, Audrey.” I hadn’t been expecting my so-called girlfriend to call.
“Hello, lover,” she replied.
I chuckled. “If only I’d been lucky enough to meet you before Peter did.”
“I still wouldn’t have touched you with a ten-foot pole,” she said. “You’re far too hot, and that always spells trouble.”
“Gee, thanks. Thank God you’re my girlfriend or I might be offended. What can I do for you?” Audrey and I rarely spoke on the phone. In the six months since we’d signed contracts and begun our “relationship,” we’d been out to dinner, attended award ceremonies and other red carpet events, but we didn’t hang out unless someone was watching. Like lots of Hollywood romances, there was nothing remotely sexual between us. Audrey had been dating her boyfriend, Peter, on and off since high school.
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about our contract. My agent doesn’t know I’m calling you.”
That sounded serious.
“Can we just keep this between ourselves?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, opening the door and heading out onto the porch. This place had a swing and everything.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask how filming was going. What’s it called? The Perfect Murder?”
“The Perfect Wave.” I took a seat on the swing facing the ocean. “We start Monday, but Maine’s beautiful.”
“You staying in Portland?” she asked.
“No, the rest of the cast and crew are there, but I’m a little north, in a small town. It’s gorgeous but a little crazy. I saw a woman taking her cat for a walk this morning. She had it on a leash, if you can believe it.”
“Sounds like something you’d see on Venice Beach.”
I chuckled, stretching my legs out in front of me. “Yeah, maybe it’s not so far from LA. Anyway, enough stalling, what’s up?”
Audrey took a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “I know we have another eleven months to run on our contract, but I was wondering how you’d feel about ending things after the premiere.”
We’d shot a film together six months ago and it was due to be released just after filming ended on the movie I was about to start shooting.
“You’re dumping me?” I laughed. But it wasn’t funny. Things were going well for me, and now Anthony Scott was calling—I didn’t want to go backward.