Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Deacon
Cody walked back into the room, his eyes shuffling to Dove’s retreating form and back to me three times before he blustered, "Where is she going? Why are you letting her walk away?"
"Letting her?" I asked incredulously as the sound of Dove’s footsteps faded away. "Would you rather I handcuff her to the table?"
"You're Deacon Harrow," he pushed, waving me up and down. "Women don't walk away from you."
I pointed to the open doorway. "That one always does."
"But—we—need to talk logistics and . . .”
"Don't panic," I assured him. "I have a plan."
I could tell by the look on his face he didn’t think much of my opinion before I even spoke it aloud. “Does this plan involve you getting a photo of the two of you smiling at each other so I can spin this some kind of way? All the Kate breakup stuff is spiraling out on TikTok after that zookeeper’s rant.” He waved at the door, and I knew he was saying “that zookeeper” because he still couldn’t remember her name. “They’re not calling you a heartbreaker anymore—they’re calling you toxic. This might take you out of the running for Batman, Deacon. Batman!”
“It won’t,” I said calmly.
It was odd watching someone freak out over my career more than I ever had. I didn’t want to be the next Batman anyway. Action movies were hard work but fun, especially fantasy-based ones where I got to play out every character from my favorite books on screen, but I didn’t want to be known forever as the buff guy who was good at fight choreography either.
It was one of the many reasons why I’d green-lit this little indie romantic comedy, so that people could see a different side of me. My music had always been the raw and real me, the lyrics speaking in ways I couldn’t, and I wished my acting could inspire the same reactions and not just “whoa, bro, that was cool!”
“Earth to Deacon!” Cody snapped his fingers in the air between us, and I realized I’d zoned him out. “Smiling pictures, yes?”
“Pictures, yes. I don't know if I can promise smiling," I hedged.
"What if she sells another story on you?” Cody threw his hands up. “She could be rolling in the dough once she realizes how much money she’d make off you.” Cody took out his phone. “I need to call one of my guys. We're losing control of the narrative."
“Put the phone down.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
Cody preferred to massage a situation into behaving for him, but he could be cutthroat when he needed to be, and I didn’t want him attacking Dove just to make me look better, especially when she was right— harsh but right.
“Dove won’t sell stories to the press,” I assured him.
"We need her to sign an NDA immediately," Cody urged. “And the rest of her family. I can’t believe they haven’t all signed one already. I should’ve seen it coming. You two have history. This whole movie idea should’ve been a giant fucking red flag.”
Luca jogged up the stairs with my coffee, skirting into the room like a ghost and plunking it in my hand. He had a real knack for reading the room and right now Cody was giving off some serious chaos energy.
"You have half an hour before you need to be in hair and makeup," Luca murmured, already stepping away before I held up a hand, and he paused.
"Luca, what’s the name of that seafood restaurant Cody wanted Ivy and me to go to?”
Luca looked between me and Cody. “Seafarer’s Table?”
“That’s the one,” I said. “Can you please make a reservation for two for lunch there tomorrow?”
“You’re finally playing ball with the Ivy thing? Great,” Cody said, relieved. Leave it to him to pull the plug on one fake relationship only to throw me into another. “I’ll call her team and try to spin the whole toxic thing into a bad-boy thing and maybe they’ll still be willing to?—”
“Not for Ivy and me,” I corrected him. “For Dove and me.”
“Deacon.” Cody rubbed his forehead. "Look, I know you and this girl were friends as kids, but I’m not so sure you can handle this one. How are you going to convince her to have an off-island lunch with you when you can’t even convince her to have a ten-minute meeting at her place of work with you?”
I picked up the landline on Evelyn's desk. Cody and Luca both watched me with curious expressions. The phone was so old it looked like it had been sourced by the props department for the set of a 90s film.
"What are you doing?" Cody asked.
I lifted the cold plastic of the receiver to my ear. “Calling in reinforcements.”
“Who?"
"Evelyn Lachlan," I replied, pushing the home button that I assumed would ring Evelyn’s house up the hill—a house that still carried some of my greatest childhood memories. "I want her to be first to hear the good news."
Cody looked like his head might explode. "What good news?"
"I'm starting a conservation charity," I said smugly.
Cody didn't move for several seconds before he stepped forward and snatched my coffee cup from the desk. "Luca, we're going to need some more coffee please.”