Chapter 16 #3
Nora had Ryder’s same sandy blond hair and coloring, but her features were softer and more delicate, her frame petite, making me wonder about the rest of the Perry family gene pool.
She carried herself with effortless grace and had a tinkling laugh, like a ringing bell.
Her face was animated and open, so full of expression that I couldn’t help thinking she could’ve been an actress too.
She was lovely, and her pride in her son was palpable, affection radiating from her every pore.
I could relate, since I was equally as enchanted with her son.
Ryder started to introduce us, and he barely got the words out before she wrapped me in a big, full-body hug—and just like that, all my nerves disappeared. I adored her instantly.
“I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you, Scarlett,” she said when she pulled back, her smile wide and warm. “Ryder talks about you so much, I feel like I already know you.”
“Likewise,” I told her as the three of us headed toward craft services. “He’s been counting down the days until you got here.”
“Took her long enough to finally make it for a visit,” Ryder teased, linking his arm through hers. “You’d think Florida was in another country.”
“Excuse me? I spent years hanging around your sets, thank you very much. Besides, you’re a big boy now, you don’t need your mom around cramping your style,” she bantered back, throwing me a conspiratorial wink.
“You mean the set of Kids Only Club?” I asked, all wide-eyed innocence. “Because I’d love to hear some of your stories.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Ryder warned his mom, tossing me a playful glare.
We’d just started eating lunch—salads for Nora and me, a sandwich for Ryder—when he set his napkin down and said, “So guys, I actually have some news. Thought it’d be fun to tell you together.”
I looked at him in confusion, noticing the excitement flickering in his eyes. What is this about?
“I got a call from Dean a couple of days ago,” he started, and I paused mid-bite. Dean was his agent. A bubble of unease popped in my sternum.
“He said the buzz around The Lost Letter is so strong that he’s already started getting calls. Apparently, there’s a movie filming next month in Atlanta and they think I’m perfect for it. It’s an ensemble cast and someone had to drop out, and they want me to step in.”
“No audition?”
“Straight offer.” He grinned like he’d found a golden ticket. “Guess who the director is.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Graham Stroud.”
That made me put my fork down. “Are you serious?”
Stroud was a big deal—he’d carved out a rare niche directing prestige indies that critics adored and audiences actually bought tickets for. Any actor would crawl over broken glass for a chance to work with him. You accepted a role in one of his movies without even reading the script.
“When does it start shooting?” I asked, trying to disguise the edge in my voice, especially since I could feel Nora watching us, quietly assessing.
“Pretty much right away,” Ryder said, and my stomach dropped like I missed a step on a staircase. “I’d basically have to go straight from here to Atlanta to prep, since they’re already in preproduction.”
I blinked. Straight from Seafolly? That meant our plans to head back to LA together, find me a new apartment, steal some downtime before new jobs spun us in different directions—gone, vanished in a puff of smoke.
I rubbed at the ache brewing in my chest, the ending I’d been trying so hard not to think about arriving before I was ready.
It felt like we were already losing each other, and we hadn’t even left yet.
And then I gave myself a mental slap. Stop being selfish, Scarlett.
This was the opportunity of a lifetime, the professional breakthrough he’d been chasing for years.
Ryder was finally getting the recognition he deserved, and my job now was to be a supportive girlfriend, not an anchor dragging him down.
“Congratulations, Ry. This is huge,” I said, willing my voice to sound steadier than it felt. “I’m so happy for you.”
“It’s really happening, Scar.” I forced my lips into a smile that mirrored his own, but there was no fooling him. He could read the truth in my eyes. “You gonna miss me?”
“You know I am,” I said softly, emotion tightening my throat.
“It’s all going to be fine,” he said, grabbing my hand across the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Three-week rule, remember?”
I nodded and smiled, though it felt false and wooden on my face. It’s something we’d discussed, not going more than three weeks without seeing each other. It was a good idea in theory, but now that it was no longer a hypothetical, three weeks apart felt like an eternity.
“What do you think, Mom?” Ryder asked, snapping me back to the present. I’d nearly forgotten Nora was at the table. “One step closer to retiring you,” he added in a singsong.
Nora had an odd look on her face too, like she was processing something of her own. “One degree closer to Tom Cruise, you mean,” she said after a beat, and the two of them high-fived.
“You two and Tom Cruise, I swear,” I said, laughing. The mood lightened, and conversation flowed easily for the rest of our lunch, right up until we were called back to set.
“Mom, start thinking about dinner tonight,” Ryder said as we walked back. “I want to take my girls somewhere nice.”
Nora’s expression didn’t falter—she was too classy for that—but I caught the flicker of hesitation, the slight pinch at the corner of her eyes, and I suddenly knew: She wanted time alone with Ryder. And I would make sure she got it.
“Oh shoot, you know what? Lainey actually mentioned the costume team needed me after we wrap today, something about last-minute tweaks to a couple of the dresses. Why don’t you two just go on without me? Besides, I’m sure you could use some one-on-one time,” I said, sending Nora a subtle wink.
A look of understanding passed between us, and she offered me a small smile, her expression softened with quiet gratitude.
“Are you sure?” Ryder asked. “We could wait for you.”
“I’m sure,” I assured him. “You two go enjoy your mother-son date. Just make sure he takes you somewhere nicer than the Tiki Hut,” I warned Nora with a smirk.
He was playfully outraged. “How dare you disparage the Tiki Hut? It’s a Seafolly institution!”
Ryder asked me to stay at his place that night so we could see each other when he got home, and I didn’t wait up, figuring they’d be out late.
When I stirred, the bedroom was dark, a thin ribbon of light spilling beneath the door.
I heard noises coming from the kitchen—the creak of a cabinet, ice cubes hitting glass, the scrape of a chair.
I laid there listening for a few minutes before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and padding out to find him.
He sat alone at the kitchen table, eerily still, his hands locked tight around a glass half full of amber liquid. It was a heavy pour for a nightcap.