Chapter Two
Ethan ran his hand over the glossy white enamel of the enormous bathtub. It was set on a low platform in front of a wide expanse of windows looking out across the beach to the shimmering horizon. He would be calling this place home for the next few months – two storeys of ultra-modern opulence with shiny white marble floors, designer furnishings and a kitchen that looked as if it belonged in a Michelin-star restaurant.
‘Great tub, hey Harry?’ he said to the dog who, as usual, was at Ethan’s feet. ‘I could practically swim in there.’
Padding barefoot across the checkerboard tiles, he headed to the ground floor, Harry tip-tapping down the pale timber stairs behind him. Ethan folded back the glass doors and stepped out onto the deck, breathing in a gust of briny air, enjoying the tang of salt at the back of his throat. He blew his breath out in a soft whistle as he took in the backyard. A crystal blue infinity pool dropped away to a lush lawn dotted with mismatched vintage garden furniture, the glittering sand of the beach only metres beyond it. He eyeballed his dog sniffing around the sun lounges at the edge of the pool.
‘Don’t pee on anything, buddy. In fact…’ He gathered Harry up and took him down to the grass. The dog shot off with his nose to the ground.
Ethan’s phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket as Harry snuffled in a flower bed.
‘Hello from the Sunshine Coast,’ he said to Lena.
‘Flight okay? Everything okay with Harry’s transport?’ she answered.
‘He arrived safe and sound with me. We’ve just been looking around the house you rented for us. I’ve got to say it’s…’ He flopped onto a wicker garden chair. ‘Um.’
‘Um what? You don’t like it?’
‘Of course I like it. George Clooney would like it, and he lives in a castle. I’m just not sure why I need a place like this. I mean, it’s gorgeous, but it’s got four bedrooms and four bathrooms. Isn’t that a bit excessive?’
‘You may need the space for meetings, interviews, rehearsals, I don’t know. I was covering the bases. If you recall, you were at the Toronto Film Festival when I needed an answer.’ She huffed impatiently. ‘You’re in the big time now,’ she said. ‘Appearances are everything. This is your movie, Ethan. You’re the star and you need to start acting like it.’
Ethan swallowed back the surge of nerves that shot through him. He was well aware of what was resting on his broad shoulders. Having his name above the title came with a new kind of pressure. If he couldn’t deliver at the box office, he might not get another shot. He had a lot riding on this movie.
‘I do act like a star,’ he said, glad she couldn’t see him rolling the tension out of his shoulders. ‘Didn’t you ask me just the other day how my ego fits in my tiny house?’
‘I don’t expect you to act like a star with me.’
‘Not if I want to see my next birthday.’ He chuckled. ‘Hey, maybe I can throw parties here. This house definitely has a movie-star party vibe. Did you know there’s a rooftop garden?’
‘Do not throw any parties. All eyes are on you. Behave yourself.’
He leant forward, his elbows on his knees. ‘So I should be a good boy, but I should also act like a movie star? That’s a confusing brief.’ Lena tutted. ‘I’m teasing you, Lena. The place is great. I love it. Thank you for taking such good care of me. I’ll just have to remember to put on some underwear before I get out of bed in the morning or the neighbours will get to see way more of me than they bargained for. This place is all windows.’
‘Ethan, stop. I don’t need the visual.’
He chuckled. ‘Harry loves it too, by the way. Lots of garden to dig and cushions to eat.’ One side of his mouth lifted in a wry grin. He could almost hear her teeth gnashing.
‘That’s why I’m calling,’ she said in breathy exasperation. ‘Are you okay for your meetings with the dog minding candidates today? The cafe is booked and I’ve emailed you the details. Sorry, I know you’ve only just arrived, but it was the only gap in your schedule.’
‘It’s fine. I’ve got it covered.’
‘I should have come up with you to manage it.’
‘Lena, please. I can handle it. Have a little faith.’
Hazel deeply regretted calling her sister. She’d thought it would be fun to have Violet on the phone while she got ready for her meeting with Ethan James, but now she found herself fending off instructions about how to style her hair and whether to choose lipstick or gloss. She hadn’t been nervous before, but now a small family of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach.
‘But which one?’ Violet asked, after Hazel had mentioned she was planning to wear a dress. ‘Be specific, Hazel.’
‘A cool dress. It’s sweltering up here.’
‘You should wear the pink and purple plaid one, your legs look amazing in that. And leave your hair down, you’ve always got it tied up.’
Hazel snapped a hair tie from her wrist and pulled her hair into a ponytail.
‘This isn’t a date,’ she said. ‘It’s a meeting to see if I’m interested in helping the man with his dog.’
‘Oh really? I thought it was so he could see if he wants you to help him.’
‘I’m choosing to see it the other way around. I want to suss him out. I’m still not convinced celebrity dog minding is something I want to commit to. I mean, do I really want to be at this guy’s beck and call?’
‘You don’t have much choice, do you?’
Hazel glared at the phone, thankful she’d hadn’t FaceTimed her sister.
Violet was Hazel’s favourite person, even if her older sister was unfailingly bossy. She was three years older, but they’d looked so alike when they were younger that people would mistake them for twins – until Hazel grew taller than Violet, then kept on growing.
Violet was constantly reminding Hazel not to stoop and criticising her choice of ‘depressing’ men. Not that Hazel dated many men. She was always working – it was the curse of the hospitality industry. That was the only thing Violet had never hassled her sister about: her career. Because until now, Hazel had been laser focused when it came to work. But in the last year she’d taken a couple of hits that had shaken her confidence. Worse, they’d shaken her love of cooking. Every morning she’d wake hoping the spark had miraculously returned, but she was starting to question if it would ever happen.
‘Of course, you could just come home and stop hiding,’ Violet said.
‘I’m not hiding,’ Hazel said. ‘I got a job up here.’
‘Which you don’t have anymore.’
‘So now I’m looking for a new one. Anyway, if I come home now I can’t take care of your movie-star boyfriend’s dog.’
Violet huffed. ‘Did you at least watch Sit, Stay, Love like I told you to?’
Hazel had had every intention of watching Ethan’s movie before the meeting. But then she saw that The Menu with Ralph Fiennes was streaming, and that was the end of that.
‘I should go,’ she said, ‘or I’ll be late.’
‘Okay, well, good luck. Ring me the second you’re finished.’
Her sister was still barking out orders when Hazel said ‘’K, bye’ and ended the call.
She released a pent-up breath as she stared into the full-length mirror she’d propped against the wall, shuffling back as far as she could and squatting slightly to get a full view of herself. With a tut she pulled out her ponytail, the fairy-floss pink tips of her hair dusting her shoulders.
Hazel rolled her eyes at her reflection. She was only interviewing to mind the guy’s dog. She should be wearing shorts and a tank top with a treat bag strapped around her waist.
‘Okay Kevin,’ she said to her cat, who was lounging on his cat tree as usual. ‘I’m off to get a job so I can keep you in kibble to puke up.’
Kevin cracked open one yellow eye and stared at her, then turned and tucked his face beneath his paw.