Chapter 6 #2
I had him put Sophia the nanny’s number in my phone, in case I needed to contact her.
Then Ian and I agreed that George would come visit tomorrow afternoon, if the boy wanted to.
He gave me the okay to be honest with my family, should they run into George around the farm, saying he didn’t want me to be forced to lie to the people I cared about.
“I’ll let you get back to work,” I said, once the logistics were covered, and turned to walk away.
“I have an early call time in the morning, so I won’t be able to join you for a workout.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “That’s fine. I realize that you’re busy.”
“What about Saturday’s run? Can I see you then?” He put his hands in the pockets of his puffy coat and then took them out again.
The nervous gesture nearly made me smile, but I ignored the urge and battled back the inclination to read too much into Ian’s desire to still spend time with me. “Sure,” I said, keeping my tone unaffected.
“Bye, Joan,” Ian called once I’d resumed walking.
I threw a halfhearted wave up in the air.
The sound of Ian’s laughter faded as I crossed the threshold back into reality. My boots carried me over dead grass and muddy ground. I put distance between me and the movie star. Away from cameras and strangers and a whole other world that I’d never understand.
Ian
I found a parking spot for my rental car off Main Street and located the address Brady Judd had texted me easily enough.
He sat at a high-top table for six and waved me over as soon as my feet touched the sticky wooden floors.
Candace was seated across from him with her fiancé, Mercer—a quiet, bearded man I’d met briefly in the fields during one of my solo runs.
I didn’t recognize the fourth member of their party.
She had long, dark hair, and I assumed she was Brady’s girlfriend, MacKenzie, from the picture I’d seen on the lock screen of his cell phone.
My eyes took in the comfortable and worn interior of the bar as the jukebox played an old George Jones song.
This felt like a hometown watering hole—looked like one, too.
The warm overhead lights gleamed, reflecting off a wall of liquor bottles behind a long wooden bar top that made up the whole left side of the establishment.
The opposite wall was lined with booths, and there were dartboards and pool tables in the back.
I imagined those were regulars sitting at the bar, watching a college basketball game, and sipping whatever was on draft. High-top tables were scattered throughout, but only about half were occupied. Not bad for a Wednesday night, though.
A red-haired server was delivering a pitcher of beer as I approached the table.
Brady grinned. “Hey, man. Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” I said, meaning it, as I slid off my jacket and draped it across the back of the empty chair next to Mercer.
Some of the other cast members were having a late dinner delivered to the Sterling House, but I didn’t really want to talk about the film or whatever projects everyone else was working on.
It would be a lot of gossip and posturing, and I wasn’t in the mood.
I felt a bit guilty about being out instead of with Georgie, but he’d been watching his nightly episode of Wheel of Fortune with Sophia and Darren. I’d been banned from joining them because I shouted out the answers. Georgie said he’d think about removing the ban on Friday.
“This is Mattie,” Brady said, indicating the server. “She owns the place and puts up with us.”
The redhead gave Brady an indulgent grin before turning to me. “Nice to meet you. I brought you a glass, but let me know if you’d rather have something else. I can make just about anything from the bar. Might not be what you’re used to, though.”
Mattie seemed friendly enough, but I could tell she expected me to have a special request, something high-maintenance from the visiting celebrity.
So I smiled and said, “Beer’s fine.”
“I can’t believe you introduced him to Mattie before you introduced him to me,” came a hissed whisper from the brunette next to Brady.
“She was standing right there,” he replied. “Did you want me to just ignore her? That wouldn’t be very neighborly.”
I faced MacKenzie and extended my hand. “You must be Mac. I’ve heard all about you.”
Her bright blue eyes shot to her boyfriend as she straightened abruptly.
Brady chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. “Good things, I swear.”
My grin widened. “Can confirm.”
Mac slipped her hand into mine and gave it a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Dorian.”
“Please. Call me Ian.”
I’d been to the gym a few times with Brady and his best friend, Abby, short for Abernathy—as in Cole Abernathy, local business owner and restaurateur.
The two men were fun and easy to be around.
Good guys. And Brady talked about Mac nonstop.
So I knew she could be very opinionated and sassy, and she was also a fan of my Inferno Man action films.
I could see it now in Mac’s expression and the sudden quiet bashfulness that had overcome her.
She’d gone a little starstruck. Candace was that way a bit, too.
But Brady had gotten over it completely, and the sociable guy just treated me as he would anyone else.
Hence, the invitation to hang out tonight.
I was grateful for the way he’d welcomed me into his life.
I had a lot of things back in California—three overpriced cars I rarely got to drive, a beach house overlooking the ocean, gadgets and expensive toys—but friends weren’t really among them.
My gaze drifted around the bar in case any more Judd siblings might be joining us. I made sure the disappointment didn’t show on my face when I didn’t spot a tall, striking woman with short hair and a grumpy scowl.
It might be kind of nice to see Joan outside of the farm. In a place like this, so comfortable and familiar, she was probably right at home.
Surprisingly enough, she’d seemed unfazed on set this afternoon. I supposed the land was still hers, so maybe all the equipment and people hadn’t thrown her off. Or maybe she was good at hiding any perceived weakness. I didn’t know her well enough to answer that yet.
Witnessing her righteous indignation after receiving the NDA had been surprising and confusing.
I hadn’t really expected her to care about Georgie, not enough to be curious about him, and definitely not enough to confront me over a standard legal document.
But she’d stood her ground and questioned my motives, cared enough to demand that I explain myself.
I’d been worried about my nephew. He’d scared me by sneaking away in a wild and unknown place. But when I’d tracked his GPS location and found him with Joan, those fears had abated, morphing into the fear of discovery. The need for secrecy and privacy.
For some reason, after our discussion on set, I’d trusted Joan.
I knew instinctively that she wouldn’t threaten the peace I was fighting to establish with my nephew.
Nothing about her screamed potential gossip willing to sell our story to the highest bidder.
She didn’t seem affected at all by my fame or celebrity status. It was refreshing, to be honest.
“So what do you think of Kirby Falls?” Mac asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“I love it,” I told her honestly. “It’s beautiful here. The mountains. The town. The people. I’m happy to spend the next few months getting to know the place.”
“Where are you from originally?” Candace asked.
I reached for the pitcher and poured myself a beer. “Ohio.”
“Ohio has mountains, right?” Mac wondered.
I smiled. “Not where I’m from. I’ve been in LA for the last decade, though. I’m used to sun and surf, and nothing like this.”
“Well, hopefully it’ll be a nice break for you,” Mac told me. “We’re happy to have you here.” Then her eyes drifted over my shoulder, and she grinned mischievously. “Well, most of us anyway.”
Before I could turn and investigate that ominous statement, the chair next to me pulled back, the legs scraping roughly across the worn floor.
I found an aggrieved Joan Judd shrugging out of her jacket.
A flicker of nervous excitement lit in my chest. I swallowed hard against the awareness Joan’s sudden appearance had caused.
“You made it!” Candace called happily.
Expression unreadable, Joan eyed me before sitting down. “Yeah, who would have thought thirteen text messages in an hour, reminding me about drinks tonight, would do the job?”
“And yet you’re still late,” Brady teased.
“Because I didn’t want to come,” Joan replied matter-of-factly.
I laughed outright. At my side, Mercer snorted in amusement and shook his head. Joan shot glares at both of us.
“Well, too bad,” Mac announced as she poured beer from the pitcher into a clean glass and passed it across the table to Joan. “There’s no bowling league this week, but you’re still obligated to hang out with us. You know you get rusty without human interaction every now and then.”
I knew better than to laugh this time, and merely smiled into my beer and took a sip.
Tilting my head, I asked, “You’re in a bowling league?”
Joan met my gaze, her own narrowed in suspicion, like I was making fun of her hobby.
It was awkward sitting next to her. I wanted to turn and face her fully, watch those blue eyes spark with irritation. Instead, we craned our necks toward one another, elbows bumping on the tabletop.
But, admittedly, it was nice having her so close, feeling her warmth at my side, smelling the trees and the grass and the sun on her skin. That flicker of nervous awareness in my chest became a sputtering flame.