Chapter 16
sixteen
JOAN
“Hey. Can I come in?”
Candace glanced up from her yogurt cup, where she was digging out the last bit of fruit at the bottom. “Hi! Sure, pull up a seat.”
There was only one guest chair in the small office inside the Apple House, and I lowered myself onto it, feeling awkward.
My sister watched me curiously as she finished off her breakfast. “What’s up? You look weirdly nervous.”
I fought the urge to shift in my seat, to cross my legs and fidget. Truthfully, I was a little nervous.
I wasn’t typically one for gossip or sisterly bonding.
Despite Candace being supportive and a good listener, it was difficult to seek her out for advice.
I couldn’t remember a time when I’d actively cared about anyone’s opinion but my own.
Plus, she was my little sister. I was supposed to be the one doling out wisdom.
But here I was, sitting in Candace’s office, having a complete out-of-body experience. I did not get mixed up over men. I didn’t let myself get distracted either. And yet . . .
“Ian kissed me,” I blurted.
My sister’s dark brows lifted in surprise. “Okay.”
When I couldn’t manage to say anything else, Candace encouraged, “And how are you feeling about that?”
I scrubbed an anxious hand across my forehead before snapping, “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”
Somehow, she appeared even more stunned. “Was it . . . bad?”
She wanted to know if it was bad. Was it bad to feel so affected by someone that you thought about them all the time?
Was it bad to get preoccupied when they spoke just because you couldn’t stop staring at their lips?
Was it bad to want something so far out of reach that you couldn’t even put a name to it?
Nothing about this thing with Ian was simple enough to deem it good or bad. It was complicated. It was unwise. It was baffling. It made me feel weak and confused and unsteady.
And I was painfully aware of all of it.
Even without having all the answers, I knew that kissing Ian wasn’t bad.
The movie had been on a break for a week and a half.
Ian and George had spent Christmas with my family.
It had been fun to see them in the middle of our big meals and traditions.
We’d made candy with my mother. Swapped ridiculous white elephant gifts.
Then Ian and I had stood side by side at the kitchen sink and washed dishes together.
We’d watched movies and played board games with George. The familiarity had me all mixed up.
Then Ian had helped me and Mercer and Brady build an enclosure for Ralph. Unsurprisingly, the Hollywood actor had never constructed a goat house or put up a fence, but he followed directions well. All those muscles were good for wielding tools and carrying wood.
It had been fun to work together on a project. Ian had joked around with my brother and even drawn quiet Mercer into conversation. Watching the outsider become even more embedded in my family had been equal parts joyful and troublesome. I didn’t know how to feel.
It was easier to tell myself it didn’t mean anything—that Ian fit in wherever he went because that’s what he was good at. But even my cynical heart wasn’t buying my arguments anymore.
Ian and I had also continued running together regularly.
Since Darren and Sophia were still away, he brought George to stay with my parents in the mornings while we found ourselves on paths all over the farm.
Then we’d make our way back to the farmhouse, and all have breakfast together.
We usually separated after that. I’d go to work in the fields while Ian took George on adventures.
So far during the film’s break, they’d visited the waterfalls the town was named after.
They’d hit the movie theater in Asheville and the fancy Franklin Street chocolate shop there as well.
There’d been the trip to the pinball museum and the toy store, and the doughnut tour they’d done of the surrounding area.
Today was the final day of the break. Ian’s team would return this evening. He’d wanted to take George on a big outing before things went back to normal—well, normal for a movie star and his nephew. Early mornings on set and homeschooling with a private tutor.
But, for today, it could just be fun. At my recommendation, they were going to the old-school retro arcade over in Clemmons.
And then over to the historic Bluebird Drive-in for lunch and milkshakes.
George was going to love it. The diner had cheeseburgers the size of his head.
Luckily, he wasn’t a practicing vegetarian this week.
I was supposed to be working on breaking down the orchard’s holiday displays and decorations, followed by closing up the Apple House until we reopened to the public in May. Mercer was already in the tree lot, but it was still early, so I’d taken the opportunity to talk to my sister.
“Kissing Ian was not bad,” I finally replied, fighting the urge to bolt from the room. “But it makes no sense.”
“Why?” Candace asked.
It wasn’t the money or the fame. Okay, maybe it was the fame, a little bit.
Ian wasn’t better than me, but I didn’t know how to explain it. His life was loud, bright, and bold in ways that demanded attention. I was a farmer in the small town I’d grown up in. My life was quiet and contained. It went beyond compatibility.
“He’s—I mean—you know—” I blew out a frustrated breath before admitting, “He’s a damn movie star, Candace. Why the fuck is he going around kissing me?”
My sister smiled then, and it finally felt like someone understood where I was coming from. “You know, it is weird to get to know a celebrity the way we’ve gotten to know Ian. He’s eaten dinner at our childhood dining table.”
“Yes, exactly. I’ve seen his butt on a television screen, and he helped my mom change a lightbulb the other day.”
Candace laughed. “The same man who was on the cover of People magazine has looked at our baby pictures in our parents’ living room.”
“He should be on a yacht somewhere.”
Nodding, my sister added, “Or a red carpet.”
“Or getting manscaped.”
“I bet he has people for that,” she said with a grin, making me recall our very first conversation about the great and spoiled Dorian Masters.
“Probably a whole team responsible for the length of his eyebrows,” I mused.
She chuckled. “Even if they waxed something important off, he’d still be handsome.”
“I bet he even looks good on the checkout lane security cameras.”
“Probably doesn’t scare himself when his cell phone camera is accidentally forward facing.”
My laughter trailed off. Then I said thoughtfully, “He looks good with his hair short. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Candace nodded her agreement.
“And he’s smarter than I thought he’d be,” I continued, knowing that sounded terrible and judgy.
“And he’s funny. The charm was obvious from the beginning, but he doesn’t wield it like a weapon, you know.
I thought the arrogance thing would get on my nerves, but Ian’s actually really humble.
If I ask him about acting, he tells me all the technical stuff, never mentioning his awards or accolades.
It’s almost like he uses arrogance to deflect. ”
Staring off, I thought of another thing. “And he’s so good with his nephew. It could not have been easy to take in a seven-year-old when he didn’t know anything about kids. But Ian’s unexpectedly patient and gentle with George.”
“That’s true,” Candace agreed distantly.
“I’ve never seen him be demanding with people, you know, how I assumed a movie star would be.
He thanks everyone and tips generously. He’d get stuck signing autographs and taking selfies all day if you let him.
Did you know Darren has been with him since his very first press tour?
He hired him away from the security firm his production company used.
Been with him ever since. I just assumed—”
I cut myself off when I finally noticed the way my sister was watching me. “What?”
Candace looked like she had a secret, but she wasn’t sure if she should spill it.
She hesitated, so I asked again, “What is it?”
“I know you’re not fishing for compliments, but obviously Ian likes you.
That’s why he kissed you. You can act confused about it or disbelieving or whatever, but that’s what it boils down to.
He wants you. He probably has a list in his head of all the surprising, wonderful things about you, too.
Like the one you said out loud just now about him. ”
I opened my mouth to object, but Candace held up a finger.
“You love to say he’s just a person. From the very beginning, when the rest of us were all starstruck local yokels, you claimed you weren’t intimidated by Ian’s celebrity status.
But you’re all mixed up about him kissing you because .
. . he’s a famous actor? How is that fair?
You’re questioning his motives because you’re the one thinking he’s too good for you.
You can’t have it both ways, Joanie. You can’t hold something against him that you refuse to acknowledge or entertain unless it suits your misgivings.
If you really believe he’s just like any other guy, then give him a chance.
Go on a date with him. Kiss him again. Be brave about this the way you’re brave about everything else. ”
I stared at my sister, feeling the truth of her words in the ugly twist in my stomach, in the way a ready denial shaped itself on my sharp tongue.
Candace was right. I’d been a hypocrite.
I’d spent a lot of time and energy ensuring everyone knew that I wasn’t affected by the great Dorian Masters.
And I must have sold it pretty well, because this was the first time anyone had called me on being a liar.
Lying to my friends and my family. Lying to myself.