Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
R andy was all smiles when he got back to headquarters. Flipping his phone from his pocket, he showed Sophie photographs of the house he planned to buy with Fiona—three bedrooms, a bright kitchen, a real fireplace, and a bay window that looked out onto the woods. Sophie clutched his phone and scanned through the photos with a knot in her throat. When she said, "It's so beautiful," her voice sounded like a frog's.
"Did you go out to lunch with the guys?" Randy asked.
"I did," Sophie said.
"Any news on Brent?" Randy sat in the office chair nearest the Culinary Tastings computer and brought up spreadsheets, calendars, and lists for their upcoming gigs.
"I haven't heard anything," Sophie said, thinking again of Brent sprawled out on the ice, calling for help.
"It was probably somebody's job to put down salt or something?" Randy said, shaking his head.
Sophie thought of Jeremy. She had a hunch it was Jeremy's job to do something like that.
Had he not laid down salt on purpose? Had he tried to sabotage the film?
Randy spun around to look at her. He furrowed his brow. "You okay?"
Sophie let out a sigh. "Sorry. I'm fine. Just exhausted."
Randy clapped his hands. "That's why I'm here! We're going to expand, expand, expand. Together."
Sophie smiled, but she didn't feel terribly happy. Why not? Wasn't this what she wanted?
Sophie pushed herself through their meeting, hearing herself answer Randy's questions and agreeing to be at such-and-such place at such-and-such time over the next couple of months. Randy showed her their new traffic on social media, where he'd posted gorgeous photographs not only of the food but also of Sophie serving it—at the retirement party, on the set of Silver Bells , and at the film's Christmas party.
Even Sophie had to admit she looked good in the photos. Randy had captured her at her happiest and friendliest, smiling as she served the delicious recipes she'd created in the secrecy of her own kitchen.
"Look! This guy wants to hire us and ask you on a date," Randy said, laughing as he pointed at a comment beneath one of the photos.
Sophie giggled. "What a creep!"
"Are you saying we shouldn't take the job?" Randy asked, his eyes glinting.
"I'm saying you can take that one," Sophie said.
Randy cackled and arched his brow. "I'm sure half the crew of Silver Bells is madly in love with you."
"They are not," Sophie shot back.
"Seriously!" Randy said. His eyes glinted with urgency, as though he, just like her parents and sister, really wanted her to settle down and figure her life out. "What if Mike asked you out? Wouldn't you go?"
"I love the sound guys," Sophie said. "But I don't like-them, like-them. Ugh. I sound like I'm in middle school all over again! I'm sure I even said 'like-him, like-him' about Jeremy!"
Randy laughed gently and tilted his head. "I don't think that guy was ever good enough for you, you know."
Sophie hesitated. She considered saying, You never really got to know him. Not like I did. But what good would that do? She was grateful for Randy's friendship and his care and his insight. He was becoming the brother she'd never had.
And a part of her was grateful Jeremy was gone, too.
It had taken her years to feel this way.
She hoped it lasted.
It was no surprise to anyone that Brent was back and ready to film the following morning. Maybe for show—or maybe not—he had a pair of crutches that he whipped around on, and he talked at length about how "devastating" it had been at the hospital.
"But Natalie was there, holding my hand the entire way," he said, releasing one of his crutches so that he could tuck a curl behind Natalie's ear.
"Places, everyone!" Derek called from behind the cameras.
Natalie wasn't needed in this scene and decided to hang back by the catering table while Derek and Brent talked about the character's motivations and how Brent would move through the scene.
Brent abandoned his crutches easily. Nobody mentioned this. It seemed like they'd all agreed to "humor" him.
Brent began to say his lines to the other actor on set—the man who played his best friend. Natalie grinned madly, watching him through the cameras with a cup of coffee in her hand and whispering to Sophie.
"He's really so talented, don't you think? He was on Broadway last year, he told me. I think that's where real actors work. We've talked about going to New York City after we finish filming. I don't have a gig lined up in LA yet, and I've always wanted to live in Brooklyn."
Sophie smiled as she filled another filter with coffee grounds. She hoped Brent wasn't "faking" his romance with Natalie like he was faking his injury.
Suddenly, Natalie whirled around and looked Sophie in the eye. "I heard that traffic control guy got fired. He was supposed to put salt down on the ice." She sipped her coffee. "Wasn't he, like, your ex or something?"
Sophie's stomach twisted. Although she'd hated having Jeremy around on set, she hated that he'd gotten fired. Unless he'd made that mistake on purpose. But was Jeremy really the kind of guy to hurt someone on purpose? Sophie didn't think so. She'd spent twelve years in a relationship with him, for crying out loud.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a car whipped down the street, headed straight for the film set. It was going faster than anyone ever should in this area of town, whipping snow out behind it. The man driving slammed on his brakes when he saw the film set, but the cobblestones were slippery, and his car smashed into some film equipment before it groaned to a halt.
They'd fired Jeremy but hadn't bothered to hire anyone to take his place.
The film crew let out a howl of alarm. Brent ran away from the set, hurrying toward Natalie. He'd forgotten his crutches, but it didn't matter. The sound of the crunched equipment echoed through the air.
"Cut!" Derek cried out angrily, maybe because he couldn't think of anything else to say. "What is this? An action movie?"
The man who got out of the driver's side was an older ex-colleague of Sophie's father, Josiah. She'd known him since she was a little girl. Rumor had it he was senile and hardly left his cabin. Now, he clambered out of the truck and scratched his head. "What have you got going on here?" he asked.
Before Derek or anyone else stormed up to Josiah and tore him in half, Sophie abandoned her catering table to take care of him. She cut Derek off and hurried up to Josiah.
"If it isn't Little Sophie Masters!" he cried happily, showing all the gaps in his teeth.
"Hi, Josiah!" She hugged him from the side, turning around to look at Derek. He was glowering and talking to the assistant director.
"I haven't seen you or your father around in ages," Josiah said. "Tell me, Soph. What is going on down here? Is this some kind of parade?"
"It's a film, Josiah," Sophie said. She hated that she had to push him away so quickly. She made a promise to herself to go out to his cabin to visit him. She could bring the rest of the butterscotch cookies. "You're on camera! But we need you to drive your truck away so we can get the shot. Can you do that?"
Josiah waved at the camera. Sophie wondered if he was really safe to drive.
"On second thought," Sophie said, "why don't you give me the keys?"
Josiah looked confounded. But after a little more probing, Sophie convinced him it was a great idea. "Do you see Randy back there at that table?" she asked. "Go over there and hang out with him. He'll get you something to eat. Okay?"
Josiah skipped through the film set. Sophie held his truck keys with freezing fingers. Above them, the clouds had thickened, and snow began to swirl, melting across her cheeks and dotting her hair.
Sophie went around to the driver's side, where she was hidden from the cast and crew. Through the wind, she overheard the assistant director telling everyone to "set up" again.
"Inexplicably, it seems that the catering service will be taking care of this, um, disturbance?" The assistant director spoke through a microphone. "Show biz is full of surprises, folks. Set up quickly, now. Let's get this shot!"
Suddenly, there was the crunch of feet coming closer. Sophie froze with her hand on the handle of the driver's side door.
Who was coming? Was it Josiah, here to take back his truck?
Derek Brownlee whipped around the side of the truck and stood, gasping for breath, his hand stretched across the dark blue paint. His eyes were tender and wounded.
"What the heck?" he asked, offering her a smile that took her breath away.
Sophie tried to laugh. She tried to smile. But she just looked up at him, eyes filled with questions. Why did you pull away from me? But she couldn't say it aloud.
From where they stood behind the massive truck, nobody could see them.
Nobody could possibly know.
Suddenly, like something out of a dream, Derek bent down and pressed his lips to hers. Sophie's knees gave out, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her aloft. Snow continued to swirl down from the heavens. And for a beautiful moment, it felt as though they were the only two people on a snow-capped earth.
And then, the assistant director's microphone blared. "Brent? We've lost our actor… Brent?"
And Brent howled from somewhere, "I'm coming! I'm wounded, remember?"
Derek and Sophie tittered with laughter. Their kiss broke. But the magic hadn't faded. Sophie felt exhilarated. She felt brand-new.
But then, Derek hurried around the truck and back to set. Overwhelmed with adrenaline, she heaved herself into the driver's side, turned the key in the ignition, and drove to the nearest free parking spot. All the while, AC/DC played on the radio, and her ears rang.
The best kiss of my life.
But where had it come from?