Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Deacon
As I wandered through the zoo, the late afternoon sun dipped below the trees, casting long shadows across the paths. My watch buzzed with a notification, stalling me. It was Luca texting me to tell me that he was waiting in the golf cart to drive me back to the estate. All of the cast and crew had packed up for the day and left, apart from me.
Evelyn had loaned me her office again so I could do remote interviews about the latest season of my Netflix show. The small office was still stuffed with ring lights and a green screen backdrop, ready for even more promo tomorrow morning.
I sighed and stretched my neck side to side, trying to get the blood flowing again after sitting for so long. Four hours of interviews was definitely not my favorite way to end the day after I’d had to be in hair and makeup at 3 am.
But at least the springtime sun was still out as I wandered sleepily down the hill, enjoying the reprieve from constant messages and people swarming me. Here it felt like I was submersed in a jungle—tall trees, twittering birds, the sound of leaves gently blowing on branches. The trees seemed to take a deep breath for me, reminding me to do the same.
Memories danced along with the gently blowing leaves. Summer after summer, I’d always loved wandering the zoo with Dove after all the visitors had left. It had felt like our magical, secret jungle just for us. The adventures we’d had, the reveries we’d dreamed up, the songs we’d sang . . . for it was beneath these same trees that the first song lyrics had come to me along with the very first big dream: I was going to be a songwriter.
Bitterness spoiled that thought. I’d lived that dream once, but not anymore.
I was about to turn toward the café exit when a flash of olive-green khakis to my right caught my eye. Half obscured behind a service area hedge, I wasn’t sure which keeper it was until I saw a glimpse of purple hair.
My lips curved, a lightness overtaking me again, and I turned in Dove’s direction as she emerged holding a snake around her shoulders.
“Gah!” she exclaimed when she saw me. “Don’t scare people holding snakes.”
“A good lesson.” I tipped an invisible hat at her. “Especially poisonous ones.”
“I think you mean venomous.” She didn’t break stride, walking up the hill as the snake curled around her shoulders.
I followed her a pace behind. “Unless I was talking about the common garter snake, which are, in fact, poisonous.”
“How dare you use my own fun facts against me.” Her footsteps faltered as she looked at me. “How do you even remember that?” she asked. “I taught you that like centuries ago.”
“I remember a lot of things from those summers,” I admitted with a shrug.
She clearly didn’t know what to do with that admission, so she started walking again and I fell into easy step with her.
“Well then, you know this is a boa constrictor and not a common garter snake,” she lectured me. “Deacon, meet Matilda, our four-year-old boa constrictor. Matilda, meet Deacon, certifiable pain in my ass.”
She held the snake’s head toward me, and I bowed toward it which gained a laugh. “Greetings, Matilda.”
We cut through a gate that had been painted to blend in with the surrounding gardens. Dove didn’t hold it open for me, but I followed regardless as we moved along the path toward her mother’s house.
“Are you still working?” I asked when I realized she had no intention of returning the snake to its enclosure. “Where are you and Matilda going?”
“Movie night at Mom’s house,” Dove replied as if that were an obvious explanation as to why she was touting a giant snake. When I let out a surprised laugh, she added, “It’s been a long day and Matilda is a surprisingly excellent cuddler.”
“So no boyfriends to cuddle you then?” Very subtle, Deacon. Way to play it cool. You could just ask her if she’s seeing anyone.
Dove gave me her patented death stare. “Not currently. I am very content with my boa snuggles at the moment, thanks.”
Something twanged in my gut at that. It was the most ridiculous thing in the world—being jealous of a snake for being the one to get to wrap around Dove at the end of a long day.
Clearing my throat, I attempted to push away the thoughts of enveloping her curves with my limbs. This isn’t about Dove , I coached myself. You just really need to get laid. That’s all. A few more days of shooting and then you’ll be back in New York. Get it together.
With that wayward bout of lust resolved, I pressed on, trailing after Dove behind the scenes of the zoo. She paused to drop a kiss to Matilda’s head and a smile tugged my lips. It was nice seeing this softer side of her again. She’d always loved her animals but let so few people see this gentler person that I knew existed beneath her steely exterior.
“First week as director has been pretty eventful, hm?” I asked, needing to fill the silence between us.
“Mission statements, core values, logo design,” she stated, listing things off on her fingers.
“A bungled toucan release,” I added with a chuckle.
“That reminds me,” she said to herself, deflating a little. “I still need to radio Finch to keep an eye on Eddie after his near-death experience and write up an incident report.”
“I can help,” I offered. “What other things does the trust need?”
“A permanent director,” she lamented, and I wondered again if heaping this massive responsibility on her had been too much. She seemed to love it and loathe it in equal measure. “How long until you find a replacement?”
“We just announced it.” I stretched my arms side to side as we walked, wishing I had a snake or something to hold onto. “We will probably need a couple more weeks to line up candidates at least. Maybe after the gala?”
Her forehead creased. “The zoo gala?”
“I forgot about the zoo gala,” I replied with a nostalgic laugh. “Those were the best. Remember how we used to sneak into the catering and steal whole platters to eat up by the tiger lookout?”
“We blamed the missing hors d'oeuvres on the twins, but I think Mom knew it was us.” Dove smiled at the memory, and it felt like another tiny win for me. “They’ve become so popular we hold one every season now. The fall one is my favorite; we do a whole spooky pumpkin patch thing. It’s great. The springtime one is only in a few weeks. I’ve ordered an ungodly amount of tulips for it. Pastel everything. A whole host of swanky patrons are coming out for that weekend to party, so hopefully we are able to turn a good profit.” She seemed to realize she’d started getting swept away in bragging about her event planning endeavors. I could’ve listened to her go on, but she refocused. “So if you’re not talking about one of the zoo galas, then what?”
“We'll do a big fundraiser party in New York,” I explained. “To officially launch Lucky Role Conservation Trust. I have some friends who will be in the city and the guest list will be exclusive, and obviously you will need to be there as director.”
She came to a screeching halt again. “What?”
“We’re hoping to have big donors in attendance. It’s our charity?—”
“It’s your charity!”
“And you are my charity’s current director, which means you need to be there.”
“Oh no, absolutely not.”
“Come on,” I goaded. “It’ll be fun. Walk the red carpet with me.” I wasn’t going to take this opportunity to tell her that red carpets were a gauntlet of the rudest and most demonic photographers in the world.
“There's going to be a red carpet for a fundraiser ?” Dove asked.
“There's always a red carpet when celebrities are invited to events.”
“There are going to be celebrities?” she balked. “I mean besides you.”
I really liked the idea that she’d forgotten I was a celebrity for a moment. I kept wishing Dove would treat me like Deacon, the friend she’d once known, and not Deacon Harrow, the brand.
“You'll be fine,” I assured her. “You'll be my date.”
“I will not be your date,” she gritted out, and I swore the blood vessels around her temples might burst along with her protestation. “Attending is one thing. Attending and getting my photo taken is another. And attending as your date is entirely out of the question.”
“Cody thinks it will look good if we go together,” I pleaded. “Show off our alliance.”
“No.”
I knew it was self-serving. It would make me look good and it wouldn’t benefit her in any way. If anything, it would open her up to more public scrutiny. But the idea of her stepping into my world, of her on my arm, of me not having to navigate the shark-infested waters alone was something I couldn’t pass up.
“Please?” I begged, clasping my hands together. “What do I have to do to make you say yes?” I reached out toward her but then dropped my hands when Matilda turned her triangular head toward me. “I can’t tell if your shoulders are perpetually bunched around your ears or if you just really need a massage.”
“Probably both.”
“I promise to hook you up with the greatest masseuse in NYC if you come to the fundraiser?”
“No.”
Folding my arms, I arched my brow in challenge. “What can I do to convince you?”
She pursed her lips, pondering. “Fine. I’ll come.” I fist pumped the air. “ If you let us announce that you're coming to the zoo gala and put your face all over our social media and make a video of you telling everyone to come visit the zoo this summer, then I’ll be your date. Oh, and you have to pay for an hour-long massage from that fancy masseuse of yours.”
I grinned. “Done.”
Her mouth fell open, as if she were clearly surprised by my instant agreement. Little did Dove know I had already volunteered to help Evelyn with the zoo gala promotion when I’d first pitched the trust to her. Like mother like daughter, I supposed. But if letting Dove think she was getting the better end of the deal meant she’d come, I wouldn’t let on.
“Fine then. I’ll be your date.” Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“I just never thought I'd have to bargain so hard to get a woman to go on a date with me,” I admitted with a chuckle.
“You haven't been hanging around the right women then,” Dove quipped.
“Clearly,” I replied. “I didn't think we'd ever have a more death-defying quest than raiding that dragon cavern, but this, I think, will be even more of an adventure.”
She smiled, and I hoped she was remembering how much fun we'd had that summer that we’d stumbled through my first and only D&D campaign. Did she watch all the Dimension 20 episodes like I did? Did she think of us when she did? I shook the thought from my head.
“I think this will be one hell of a campaign, Deacon,” she said and stuck out her hand. Matilda hung on easily as I shook it. “Just don't die this time,” she added with a wink, and she laughed as my expression soured.
I let her walk away with that last little dig. She didn’t know that I’d actually cried when I’d asked the Dungeon Master to kill me off our campaign so I could move to New York and start my music career. She didn’t know that for three years, I’d missed it every day until life had gotten too busy to think about anything anymore.
I’d relished that exhaustion. I’d tried to reach out to Dove a couple of times, but she’d never replied, and after a while I had just stopped trying. Still, I should’ve tried harder when her dad died. I should’ve just gotten on a plane and flown here in the middle of my international tour. No amount of time unspoken between us would ever make it okay that I let her live through those years without knowing I was thinking of her every day.
Oh well. Just one more thing on my list of never-ending mistakes when it came to Dove Lachlan.
I stood there backlit by the sunset, watching the space where Dove and Matilda had disappeared for a long time before finally turning around. When I did, I found a very pregnant blonde woman with pink-tipped hair standing directly behind me, looking at me with so much raw excitement in her eyes, I thought she might pass out or start crying . . . or go into labor.
“You must be Hannah,” I said, extending my hand.
“Oh my god, Deacon Harrow knows my name!” She shook my hand, her palm exceedingly sweaty. “I’m so, so sorry to bother you. I just have a question for you and I didn’t know when would be a good time to ask and it just seemed like now might be that good time and, uh, I ramble a lot, sorry, but I do it with everyone, not just celebrities. I’m kind of a ranter, and, uh . . . what was I saying?”
My smile widened. I could see why she was Dove’s best friend. She was like an excited golden retriever to Dove’s black cat energy, overly talkative where Dove was monosyllabic, extroverted where Dove was introverted. And I was grateful that Dove had people that clearly loved her and made her life full. The thought caught me off guard.
I’m just happy for an old friend. Yep, that’s all this feeling is.
With a mounting frustration at my own inner thoughts, I turned back to the bouncing, excited woman in front of me. “What did you want to ask me, Hannah?”