Chapter Sixteen

Chapter

Sixteen

The offseason is off to a great start. We spend three

weeks flying from LA to New York, doing press and all the late-night talk

shows. Everyone wants to talk about Christian Lucas, the underdog who was named

the World Series MVP. I have never been more proud.

However, no one wants to talk about Ella Lucas. I lost the

movie role to another actress because I didn’t give them an answer that night.

Hollywood can’t even wait one night for the World Series, apparently.

Filming finishes in St. Louis just as we’re ready to make

our move to Florida.

Moving in with my in-laws isn’t exactly the dream, but

Christian and I both believe in being frugal, and it made sense. After all, why

find a temporary apartment and pay rent for four months when we don’t have to?

But I am a little nervous about us living with his parents when I still haven’t

really bonded with his father. I don’t want things to be awkward, but they are.

Honestly, I feel like his dad is constantly testing me, like

I’m still on probation in his mind.

Christian and I live on the second floor of the house, and

Mr. and Mrs. Lucas live on the first floor. I don’t walk on my tiptoes and,

apparently, you can hear my steps from above. On more than one occasion, he’s

said, “You walk like an elephant.”

Then, there are my eating habits. I happen to enjoy three

meals a day. Nothing big, but I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, along with

the occasional snack. Mr. Lucas, on the other hand, only likes to eat one big

meal a day. So, whenever he sees me eating anything, it’s usually met with,

“You eat too much.”

Needless to say, I’m not feeling very at home in my

temporary home. I have to wait until Christian and I are alone in bed at night

to whisper my feelings because, along with the long list of my faults, I’m also

too loud.

Ugh.

“I’m only saying, I’m trying very hard to be nice to him and

show respect, but does he have to criticize everything I do?” I

whisper.

“I’ll admit that he can be a little critical, but that’s

just the way he is. He doesn’t realize how it sounds. Don’t take it

personally.” He says it like it’s no big deal, but it is.

“How can I not?” I ask, hating that as soon as I raise my

voice even a tiny bit, I begin to panic. Like his dad is going to come through

the door and tell me to be quiet.

“This is all temporary. I know it isn’t ideal, but we can

get through it. He mentioned going fishing tomorrow, so you won’t have to deal

with him.”

Great. One day. Whoopee.

“Can’t you talk to him for me? Please?”

“It won’t make a difference. Trust me. You just need to

ignore the comments.”

“Fine.”

But it’s not.

The next day, I have the house to myself, which feels like a

small gift. Christian is at physical therapy, his mom is at work, and his dad

is out on the lake somewhere with a fishing pole and a quiet determination. One

undeniable bright spot is the view. His parents’ house sits right on the water,

and the lake is stunning in the late-morning light.

I decide to treat myself to a sub from the local Publix

They’re famous for them. Everyone knows exactly what you mean when you say you

want a Pub sub. Back at the house, the day is too beautiful to ignore, so I

settle at the kitchen table with my lunch, the lake stretched out in front of

me. I’m starving, and the first bite of my turkey and cheese sub with extra sub

dressing is every bit as glorious as I hoped it would be.

And then I see him.

Mr. Lucas is walking up from the boat dock—back much earlier

than I expected.

Seriously? Already?

He walks in, fresh off the lake, and I can see that he

hasn’t washed his hands. Side note about me, I’m a bit obsessive about germs

and handwashing. I cannot eat anything unless I’ve properly sanitized my hands,

and I do not share my food with others.

“How was the fishing?” I ask, hoping to have a pleasant

conversation.

“Fine. What are you eating?”

“A turkey sub,” I answer.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, it’s a Pub sub, and it’s my favorite.”

All of a sudden, without asking, he grabs my sub with his

unwashed, fishy hands and takes a bite. We both stand there in silence as he

chews.

Are you flipping kidding me right now?

“Yes, that’s good,” he says before putting it down, turning

and walking away. I don’t think I let out a breath until I see him walk into

his bedroom and shut the door.

For a moment, I’m too stunned to even move. I’m not sure

whether I want to scream or cry. Unfortunately, I have no choice. As calmly as

I can, I wrap up my sandwich and throw it in the trash before tiptoeing up the

stairs.

Something’s got to give.

Soon.

Again.

And thankfully, it does.

A week after the sandwich incident, I’m home alone again

with my father-in-law. I’m looking over a script for a single-episode spot I’ll

be filming next week when my phone rings.

“Someone needs a secretary,” he mutters. “Five kids, and I

never heard a phone ring this much.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I grab my phone and

head upstairs to Christian’s and my bedroom. It’s Tracy. Things have been a

little cool between us since the night the Archers won the World

Series, and I lost the movie role, and every time she calls, I get a knot in

the pit of my stomach.

“Hey, Tracy. What’s up?”

“Ella, are you sitting down?”

“Um…” I move over to the bed and sit. “Now I am,” I say

nervously. I can’t imagine the movie role being open for a third time, so I’m

not sure what this could be about.

“Are you ready to be part of the Galactic Wars

universe?”

Galactic…?

The gasp is out before I can stop it, and I’m instantly back

on my feet. “Are you serious? They want me?” I ask excitedly.

“They sure do! And FYI, I don’t know any specifics about the

project other than the fact that you’ll be playing a new character, and you’ll

have to sign an NDA.”

“That’s fine. OMG! This is amazing. You have no idea how

much I needed this today.”

“Listen, I told them you will be back in town next week for

filming and scheduled a time for you to meet with them. I’m sending the

contract and NDAs over to you now. Congratulations, Ella. This is a very big

deal. The Galactic Wars universe has staying power. I think this is

your big break.”

“This is incredible! Thank you, Tracy. I can’t wait to get

started.”

“I’m also emailing you the calendar for next week’s filming

and meeting with the showrunners for the Galactic Wars project. And I

put in a lunch for the two of us.”

“That’s great. Thanks again. I’ll look everything over and

get it signed and sent back to you ASAP.” I’m practically bouncing on my toes

with giddiness, so I don’t make too much noise. “I’ll see you next week.”

But I am so freaking psyched that I can’t control myself and

I do a full-out happy dance—you know, arms waving, jogging in place, until I

hear, “Stop jumping around up there!”

Yeah. I think I’m going to start packing for my trip now.

This is the beginning of my Galactic Wars

era.

The overall vibe and energy level of everyone involved is

contagious. We’re all in on this giant secret that the world can’t know about

yet, and it is so flipping hard not to talk about it to anyone.

Well, I tell Christian I’m voicing a brand-new character for

the GW universe, but I am not allowed to tell him anything about my character

or the storyline. None of it.

It’s killing me.

Ashla Voss is part of a whole new series set in the Galactic

Wars franchise. When we first meet Ashla, she is impulsive and reckless.

She rushes into battle, desperately trying to prove herself to her elders.

She’s snippy and sarcastic, but considering she’s only fourteen years old,

those traits make sense. And I love how feisty she is. The Echo

Wars will be a new series for Storyteller Studios, and we’re starting with

the first season. Twenty-two episodes.

Twenty-two episodes. That’s a sign it will be something

amazing, right? Plus, it’s like my life has come full circle, and I’m right

back where I started. I have to believe it’s a good sign.

My biggest issue?

The release date is over eighteen months away.

That means I have to keep this project to myself for a year

and a half.

I have no idea how I’m going to do it, but I know I will.

It’s too big a deal to blab about it and end up ruining everything.

Honestly, I grew up being a fan of the Galactic Wars

movies. It’s been popular for almost thirty years. I had no idea that adding

new characters, movies, and series was even a possibility. As I mentioned, we

all thought that the creator of the series was done and had closed the book on

the Galactic Wars franchise. So, this was all a huge surprise, to say

the least. My part is a major character no one knew about, and now I have a lot

of homework to do as I dive deeper into the universe.

I’m so excited to get started.

“So, tell me more about your character.”

“I can’t.”

“Are you voicing a new character or an existing one?”

“A new one.”

“What’s her name?”

“I can’t say.”

And it’s killing me.

Christian lets out a long breath. We’re video chatting on

our laptops, and he’s sitting on our bed back in Florida, shirtless, his

baseball hat on backward. He’s practically catnip, and it stinks that he’s

twenty-five hundred miles away.

“So, what can you tell me?”

Tell you about what? Oh, yeah…the show. Seriously,

my husband is gorgeous.

“I really can’t. I’m sorry.” Then I sigh. “But you want to

know something really cool?”

“Sure.”

“This…what I’m doing…is…” Drats. If I tell him it’ll be

twenty-two episodes, will that violate my NDA? Now I’m not so sure.

“What you’re doing is…?” he prompts with a boyish grin.

“I can’t say,” I reply miserably, my shoulders sagging.

“Let’s just say my lucky number plays a part in it.”

He chuckles. “Great. You’re voicing a part you can’t tell me

about, for a new Galactic Wars animated project I don’t know anything

about, but twenty-two has a significant meaning to it. Awesome.” I know he’s

teasing. Kind of. And I feel guilty all over again.

“You know I’d tell you if I could. But isn’t it a little

wild that I’m going to be part of such a popular franchise? Like…in a million

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