Fiona’s eyes narrow. “She told you.”
“She mentioned your mom and Anna,” I say slowly as she takes a seat.
She downs the rest of her whisky and then pulls in a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of months, I guess. But I manage.”
I don’t believe a fucking word. “So I think I might have a job for you.”
“Really?” Her green eyes brighten.
“Yeah, I fucking hate paperwork.”
She laughs, the sound almost musical, and it makes my stomach flutter.
“I can do paperwork! You won’t regret it,” she says eagerly. “It’ll just be temporary, of course. Until I find something else.”
“Can I ask where you’re staying?” I take her glass and refill it. Our fingers brush deliciously when I hand it back to her.
Having Fi around is going to suck in the best way possible.
“I haven’t actually thought that far ahead,” she replies, pushing strands of long auburn hair behind her ears.
I frown. “The city is expensive, Fi—nowhere near Brighton prices. Do you have savings or something? I don’t think I can pay you enough for a studio.”
Her face falls a little, but she catches herself and gives me a confident smile. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Stay with me,” I blurt.
What the fuck did I just say?
“What?” Fi echoes my thought, her brows lowering in confusion. “With you?”
“Sure.” More idiotic words fall from my lips. “Marcus will be in Seattle for the foreseeable future, so we have an extra room.”
“Oh, I dunno, Seb.” She bites her lip, glancing away.
“Fi.” She doesn’t look at me. “Fiona,” I say more firmly, and she finally meets my eyes. “I want you to. Please.”
“I suppose I can try it for a few weeks,” she says hesitantly. “But the second I get a film gig, I’m getting my own place.”
“You want to get into film? It’s a pretty cutthroat industry around here.” I give her a meaningful look. “It could beyears, not weeks, before you land any sort of position. And it’s all contract work, so you could go months without any income.”
She gives me a cheeky smile “Not that it’s any of your business,Dad,” she teases, “but how the heck do you know so much about this stuff?”
“I was talking to Joel McHale the other day?—”
“I’m sorry,WHAT?”
“Joel McHale? He was in some sitcom, I think.”
“Sebastian Conner,” she says, her tone admonishing. “He was inCommunity, and I can’t believe you met him! Do Charlie and Link know? They are gonna freak the fuck out.”
“Anyway, I asked him a bit about acting and all that, and he was super nice. I guess he lives in Seattle.”
“He lives on Mercer Island, actually.”
“Whatever,” I say, waving my hand. “He just told me some stories about when he was getting started. It sounded pretty rough.”
She cocks her head to one side, her hair cascading over oneshoulder, and gives me a gentle smile. “It’s sweet that you’re worrying about me, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
