8. Kassie
KASSIE
Iremained in the chair, my foot propped up, long after Oliver left. His story repeated itself in my head. I could hear the pain in his voice, the embarrassment he carried to this day. The loneliness that permeated his world—even now.
I shut my eyes, remembering reading about his “new” career direction.
Different management, a more mature focus.
The massive success of Brace Yourself, where he played a charming, awkward leading man who fell in love and hadn’t a clue what to do about it.
He was praised for his comedic timing. His charm on the screen.
That was only the start. He became a sought-after leading man and was constantly in the headlines, interviews, and known as box office gold.
He flew high on a seemingly never-ending wave of success.
Until the recent change. Suddenly, there were rumors of trouble on set.
Excessive drinking. Arguing with costars.
The supermarket rags often featured him on the front page, the photos anything but complimentary and no doubt doctored.
Yet, the whispers persisted, and much to my chagrin, I’d found myself watching and reading.
And, if I was honest, worrying.
Now, more than ever, I wondered why. What set him off? Had something upset him to the point he’d tried to self-destruct?
I sighed and rubbed my face. What caused it, I had no idea. And it wasn’t my business to know any longer.
I stood and tested out my foot. It hurt a little, but I could manage.
The truth was, I didn’t know this man anymore. Or what made him tick.
And it irked me that I might want to.
Oliver
I worried about Kassie all evening, but I was too afraid to go downstairs and check on her. I was still raw from telling her my story, and regardless of the praise for my skills, I didn’t think I was a good enough actor to fool her into thinking I was fine.
Even though it had been years, and despite what I had said to her, she still knew me better than anyone. She’d see right through me.
The next morning, I left to meet Davis at the restaurant.
Walking in, I inhaled deeply, the aromas making my stomach grumble.
I spotted him in a booth and joined him, grateful for the coffee already being poured by a pretty waitress wearing a pair of overalls and a plaid shirt.
Her hair hung down her back in a thick braid, and her smile was warm.
“Thanks.” I flashed her a smile, which she returned with a brief moment of “Wait, don’t I know you?” before her expression cleared. She didn’t say anything except to rattle off today’s special.
Davis and I agreed the meat lovers omelet sounded great, and we both ordered it.
“Home fries and toast okay, or do you want pancakes?” she asked. “Or fruit?”
I carbed it up, asking for all of it, while Davis chose whole wheat toast and fruit.
She left, stopping at the counter and speaking to a man, who glanced over, his brow furrowed.
He looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.
He was massive, with thick muscles and sun-drenched skin.
A local, obviously, and probably a rancher or a farmer.
I sipped my coffee with a happy sigh. “Good,” I muttered.
Davis chuckled. “I had four cups the other day and got one to go. I was pumped full of caffeine.” He indicated the script on the table. “I see you brought your notes.”
I nodded eagerly. “Colton is a complex character. I like him, even if he is a stubborn ass.”
Davis winked over the rim of his cup. “Maybe you recognize a kindred spirit.”
I laughed at his dry wit.
“I thought this was going to be cheesy, but it’s not,” I admitted. “Lots of depth, some great banter, and some hot tension.”
“It’s a good script,” he admitted. “I bought the rights and decided to direct and produce it myself with my company. Stick to the vision I had without interference from an outside studio.”
“That’s a huge risk and a lot of work.”
He nodded. “I know. But I had a good feeling, and I enjoy a challenge.”
“You said you hadn’t even thought of me for the role. Who were you thinking of?”
“Dan Sinclair.”
“What changed your mind?”
He grinned. “Annie informed me Dan had the emotional depth of a saucer. And as usual, she was right. Once I studied the two of you side by side, you were the right choice.”
“I won’t let you down.”
“I know. Annie assured me of that.” He grinned again. “Something about your ability to father children in the future,” he added.
I took a sip of coffee to cover my smirk. Annie always had a way with words.
The sound of the bell over the door ringing caught Davis’s attention. His expression changed as he looked over my shoulder and whistled low under his breath. “Wow. I’d father her kids any day. Or have fun trying.”
I glanced over my shoulder and frowned when I saw who he was referring to. Kassie had walked in, holding a huge box of pies. The man at the counter took them from her then kissed her cheek, and our waitress hugged her.
I remembered this was the place Kassie baked pies for, which meant our waitress was the owner. Kassie said she worked harder than anyone and waited tables every morning since they were so busy. I assumed the massive man was her husband.
Kassie looked pretty today. More than pretty.
Her hair hung down her back in long, thick waves, glinting red the way it always had under the lights.
Strawberry blond, she called it. I always called it sexy.
She wore a pair of fitted jeans and a loose deep green sweater that hung off one shoulder. She was breathtaking.
And I hated that Davis had noticed.
He caught my frown. “You know her?”
“Yes.”
She headed toward the booth behind us, stopping in surprise when she saw me. “Oliver?”
“Morning.”
“I didn’t hear you up and about.” Then her cheeks flushed, as if realizing how that sounded. Intimate. Close.
“I meant, the floors upstairs often creak,” she added.
“Ah. Must be my ability to walk on water.”
She laughed, which made her even prettier.
“How’s the foot this morning?” I inquired.
“Better,” she assured me. “Really.”
Davis looked between us, then stuck out his hand. “Davis.”
She shook his hand. “Um, Kassie. Oliver’s, ah, landlady.”
“Oh,” he said, stretching out the word.
Our waitress returned, sliding heaping plates in front of us. “Eat up, boys. Kassie, I’ll get you coffee. John will join you, and I’ll pop back to discuss next week’s pie needs. The movie company contacted me about adding desserts, so we need to talk.”
Davis cleared his throat. “That would be me. I’m the movie company.”
“Oh.” She offered her hand. “I’m Quinn.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I didn’t want to be left out. “I’m Oliver.”
Quinn lifted her eyebrows slowly. “Ah,” she said. “The famous Oliver. I thought it was you, but I didn’t want to bother. Love your movies.”
“Thanks. Love your omelets.”
“A mutual admiration society,” another voice spoke, and I looked behind Quinn to the massive stranger I had spotted earlier. He held out his big paw. “Oliver, it’s been a long time.”
Seeing him up close, I recognized his face. “John Elliott.” I grabbed his hand and pumped it hard. “How the hell are you?”
“Good. I’m good. Just having breakfast before heading to the fields. No one beats my Quinn’s cooking.”
I introduced Davis to him, and Quinn grinned widely. “I hoped to be an extra. John too.”
Davis chuckled. “I’ll make sure you get in. I could probably use you as one of the hands, John. You look the part.”
“Oh yes,” Quinn said, looking pleased. “His muscles have muscles. He’d look so good on film.”
John laughed, draping a heavy arm around her waist and pulling her close, dropping a kiss to her head. “Enough, darlin’. Let them eat their breakfast. Kassie, I’ll get the other box from your car.”
“Thanks.”
Davis smiled at her, leaning his arm across the booth. “What about you, Kassie? You want to be an extra? I can put in a good word,” he teased.
“Oh, I’m not sure.”
A card appeared in his hand. “Call me if you change your mind.”
“Um, thanks.”
She slid into the booth behind us, and we started to eat our breakfast. John returned, sitting across from her, and Quinn joined them for brief intervals.
Davis and I discussed the character and some of my thoughts.
We talked about the shooting schedule. He pushed away his plate, waiting as I finished the stack of pancakes that had come with the meal. He leaned close, his voice low.
“I assume from the tension I’m feeling between you and your landlady and the way you keep staring at her, you no longer need another place to stay?”
“I’m not—” I cut myself off. I had stared at her a lot, although I thought I’d done it covertly.
She was irresistible. Smiling and laughing one moment.
Frowning and serious the next. Wrinkling her nose in distaste.
Shaking her finger in mock severity at John, who ignored her.
Scolding Quinn about working too hard. And meeting my stare more than once with a shy smile, her gaze often skidding away if our eyes held too long.
“No. I’m good.” I sipped my coffee. “And there is nothing between us. Old friends.”
“So if she chose to use that number and I asked her out, you would…”
My hands clenched into fists under the table, but I forced myself to remain calm. “She’s a grown woman. She can see or do anything she likes.”
He leaned back with a smirk. “I see. So, nothing there—just old friends.”
I glanced one more time at Kassie. Good God, she was effortlessly sexy. Simple. Stunning.
And she’d just caught the eye of a Hollywood director known for dating younger women.
A decent enough guy—but the thought of her dating him twisted something in my gut.
Even if I had no right to have those feelings.
I picked up my coffee cup and took a drink to clear my throat.
Even then, my voice sounded like gravel when I spoke.
“Friends. But don’t hurt her, or you’ll answer to me.”
He snorted as he drank the last of his coffee.
“Duly noted.”