39. Isla
ISLA
PARIS, MAINE
The sweet scent of lilacs filled the air as Isla strolled through the McLaughlin Garden & Homestead with Kyle and Tomas.
They were about a week too early for the lilac festival—Davy’s original plan for this episode—but it didn’t matter.
Boyd had sat them down after they’d arrived on Thursday to shift the show's dynamic yet again.
“We’ve made some changes to the way we’re framing the show,” Boyd had said.
“Tomas and Isla, you can keep it platonic and friendly from here on out. This is yet another incredibly small town, so we’re going to focus on the personal angles.
The three of you in the distinct places the town is known for, just having fun. ”
So that was what they’d done.
Somehow, it didn’t matter that there wasn’t a festival. They’d found plenty of locals to chat with about the lilacs and the founder of the gardens here. Yesterday, when they’d gone mining for gems in West Paris, Kyle had everyone there in stitches with his jokes.
Tomas had done a fantastic job of interviewing a theater troupe at a local barn theater—a reminder of the fact that Isla had gotten to know him as a classically trained theater actor.
They’d met after having been cast together in Othello, and he’d even taken to the stage the day before to recite some of those lines with her. Almost like we were old friends.
And they’d even forgone a hotel this time. The whole cast and crew stayed instead in a campground twenty minutes outside of town. At least for the duration of filming.
Four episodes in, and it finally felt as though they’d hit their stride, learning to live and breathe in these towns more naturally, as they were rather than the way they might have hoped or intended them to be.
The only significant difference? No Aiden lurking in the shadows.
She felt the absence like a bruise. She still reached for her phone sometimes, half expecting a message. An apology. Something. But there’d been nothing. Maybe because she’d told him not to call. Maybe because he’d finally listened...and that hurt even more.
And this time, I haven’t had my best friend to turn to.
Davy had stayed in the background once again, barely meeting Isla’s eye. And Isla hadn’t worked up the courage to bridge that conversation.
Maybe once I leave here today. She just had one short take left, and this whole episode might be over.
Isla lowered a fragrant bough of lilacs toward her face and grinned at Kyle. “If there’s anything I’m going to suggest to people, it’s that they do Paris in the spring.” She inhaled a deep breath.
“Paris or Parises?” Kyle asked wryly.
“Definitely Parises. Though the smells here beat the fried catfish, got to be honest. Even if that was a brilliant trip,” Tomas interjected.
“Yeah, if by brilliant you mean when you decided to try to do something in the rodeo.” Kyle shook his head and laughed.
Isla rolled her eyes, then looked straight at the camera.
She’d already fumbled these lines a couple of takes now, so hopefully, she’d get it right this time.
“So, I hope you’ll join us as we leave the Parises of the USA behind and hop across the ocean to the city where it all began. See you next time, in Paris, France.”
“And cut,” Boyd said.
Isla grimaced. “Did I seriously say hop?” The line was supposed to be jet, dammit.
“I think it works,” Tomas said with a hopeful look at Boyd. “Hopping. Jetting. Practically the same thing.”
She gave him a playful smack. “That’s just because you and Kyle have run out of material to improv.”
“There’s only so many wonderful ways to wax poetic about lilacs,” Tomas said with a chuckle.
“All right, all right.” Boyd shook his head. “I think we have enough to wrap this episode and all go home. We’re going to devote part of this episode with some of the London footage anyway.”
Isla frowned and glanced toward Tomas. “I thought the romance wasn’t going to be as important in the show.”
Boyd nodded. “That’s right.” Then he gave her a curious look. “Didn’t you watch the premiere?”
Isla shook her head. “No. I usually avoid watching myself in anything if I can avoid it. Besides, where was I going to watch it? In my tent?”
Boyd shrugged. “Could be. That’s where I watched it.”
That didn’t surprise her. He’d overseen the whole project from start to finish and approved the final edits. Of course Boyd would watch it. He’d probably spend the whole time critiquing it, too.
“I didn’t watch it either,” Kyle said.
“Neither did I,” Tomas admitted with a chastened smile.
Boyd shook his head. “I should fire all three of you for mutiny or lack of support. Imagine if everyone just said never mind. We need the views, goddammit.”
Tomas protested, “But I did make a live about it for my Instagram. Told people to watch. I’ve been plugging it.”
Yikes. She should have done that, at the very least. Not that she was regularly active on social media anymore. She ran the page for La Hacienda now, which usually meant she was out of steam for her personal page.
No wonder Davy didn’t seem to think she cared.
Boyd scowled at Isla once again. “Well, you especially should watch it. Davy went to bat for you over the final cut, you know.” He stormed away in the direction of the crew.
“What is he talking about?” Isla asked, peering at his receding form.
“Beats me,” Kyle said, then pulled out his phone. “What’s the name of the show again?”
Isla chortled, her shoulders shaking with mirth. “ A Tour of Paris ,” she said. “How do you not know this? It was on the paperwork we signed.”
“I’m just along for the free food and the escape from unemployment,” Kyle said with a shrug. “And I can’t remember the last time I read anything I signed.”
Jerking her chin at him in surprise. “Unemployment?”
Kyle grimaced. “Yeah, turns out that when your boss finds out you’re doing your work-from-home software support job all over the country while filming a cable show, they don’t like that so much. I got fired two weeks ago.”
Ouch.
Dammit. “Oh God, I feel so responsible now.” Especially because Kyle hadn’t said anything. She’d been moping around him for weeks, carrying on about her troubles, her problems—and he’d had a problem of his own and said nothing.
Did I even give him the room to talk about it?
“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” Kyle didn’t look up. His brow furrowed in concentration as he continued to scroll.
“You never know. Maybe this show could turn into something,” Tomas said hopefully.
Isla bit her lip and then looked from one to the other.
She had a set life waiting for her after this and maybe had forgotten what it was like to need something to work out.
Tomas had a following and recognition, especially on stage, but if she’d learned anything from the entertainment industry, it was how easily replaceable they all were.
An acting coach had once told her that. “You think you’re important? You’re not. That role you want? You step aside, and they’ll find a hundred girls in less than an hour who want it, too.”
Maybe that was why acting didn’t really appeal any more.
Nothing was permanent. Nothing stayed.
A lifetime of sacrifice, hoping it all would mean something, but it just didn’t.
“Why am I not finding this show?” Kyle asked, giving Isla a baffled look.
“Oy, you know what? Did you say A Tour of Paris? Didn’t you read the email? They changed it. It’s One Time in Paris,” Tomas said.
Really? What could have provoked the name change?
“Found it,” Kyle said with a grin. His eyes widened. “Whoa. We’re already closing in on a million views.”
That was enough to get Isla to lean over toward his phone. Kyle clicked on the first episode, and the sound of her voice came through the speakers of his phone. She grimaced, still remembering every word she’d recorded for the introduction in the trailer in Texas.
“You sound fantastic. Stop being so hard on yourself,” Tomas said with a knowing, friendly smile. No flirtation. No agenda. She liked this side of him.
“We’re here in Paris, Texas,” Kyle’s voice drawled from the phone as the camera panned to a shot of the three of them, sitting in front of the Texan Eiffel Tower.
And just like that, she was back there with them. It hadn’t been that long ago, but it felt like months earlier. Like she had been a different person then.
Another narrator cut in, one that Boyd had mentioned had been hired to make the episodes more seamless. “But as the crew settled into explore this historic Texas town, they were off to a bumpy start?—”
Then came footage Isla hadn’t expected: Aiden. Her brother.
The argument outside the trailer when Tomas showed up.
She gasped, gripping Kyle’s sleeve.
What. The. Hell.
She blinked hard, dizziness cresting over her as she thought back to that day. She had been wearing a camera—Tim had started fitting her for it when she’d first gotten in...but they were filming?
Shit.
Aiden’s face filled the screen. Unfiltered. Unscripted. And the sound of his voice—angry, protective, real—hit her straight in the chest. God, she missed him. Missed the way he looked at her like she was impossible and brilliant all at once. Missed the way his arms felt around her in the dark.
She hadn’t been ready to see him. Not when her heart still twisted at the memory of him walking away from her at Callum and Liddy’s party—without a backward glance to see how she was doing.
When she’d asked for space...and he’d given it to her a little too well.
What if that was it? What if he’d taken her silence as his answer?
And now, this would do nothing to help the frayed relationship between them.
A glance at Tomas’s and Kyle’s faces revealed their surprise, too. “Did you know?” Kyle asked.
“I had no idea. I?—”
How was this even legal? Callum and Aiden would have had to agree to this footage of them being used, wouldn’t they have? They would have had to sign release forms and?—