He looks and sounds so much like our dad right now, I can’t help teasing him. “Good on ya’…Malcolm.”
Archie’s eyes dart from his mobile to me with a flicker of surprise, but he stuffs his mobile in his pocket and returns my smirk.
“What’s the wave like?” I ask, suddenly feeling the pull of the ocean again. “We could catch a few, then call Sybil,”
“Already checked. It’s mush.” He gives me a cutting look, like I’m an idiot for thinking he wasn’t one step ahead of me, then sits on the side of the bed. “Good thing, too. We’ve got a huge order at Bombora. I really shouldn’t blow off work.”
I pat his knee. “Ah, look at you, adulting.”
“Don’t remind me,” he huffs. “Will you be okay here alone? I’ll try to dip out early.”
“No worries. It’s all good.”
Archie studies me, seeing right through my lie. He’s not wrong either. After years of spending most of my time outside work alone, the prospect of doing it for another day feels a bit depressing. Even with a good book.
“Rhys and Stella are on holiday; Britta’s at work, but Dexsaid he’d stop by if he got a chance. His new coach isn’t as lenient as his old coach.”
“His old coach was a bit of a loafer,” I tease.
Archie coached Dex to a surfing world championship.
“Nah. Yeah. Good riddance to that guy. He never could’ve got Dex to the Olympics.”
We grin, reflecting the same smile back to each other.
Thisis home, right here. Joking with Archie, giving each other crap like proper siblings and friends do.
“As long as Bran doesn’t show up, I’ll be fine. Probably stay in bed and read.” I swat his knee then unfold my legs and roll out of bed. “Lemme pee, then we can ring Sybil.”
When I get back, Archie’s flipping through my book.
“You better not have lost my place.” I take it from him as I climb back into bed.
“Looks like one of thoseBridgertonbooks.”
“Similar, but Georgette Heyer is the original queen of Regency, after Jane Austen, obviously.” I flip through until I find my spot, then dogear the page and set it on the bedside table.
“Jane Austen I’ve heard of. The rest was gibberish.” He takes out his mobile, then freezes before reaching for my book. “Who did you say wrote this?”
“Georgette Heyer.”
He holds up the book, then orders his mobile to look up Georgette Heyer and Alison Fisher. A few seconds later, he’s grinning. “I knew I’d seen this cover and heard that name before.”
Archie hands me his mobile, and I read the headline on the screen.Alison Fisher & Fisherlight Films option rights for Georgette Heyer novel.
“Oh my…” I scroll through the story, reading pieces to Archie. “She’s producing and directingFrederica!” I scrambleto my knees, my voice getting louder and louder. “She describes the script as a ‘smart, feminist-leaning, character-driven, Regency romcom.’” I lower the mobile to look at Archie. “I would love to be in this. Alison Fisher?Frederica? That’s my dream.”
“You should ring her! I told you a year ago she was asking about you.” He takes his mobile from me, smiling wide.
“Pshh. I can’t just ring Alison Fisher, and I doubt my agent’s interested in doing anything for me. I’ve been dodging his calls for years now.” I come back to earth, sit back and pull my knees to my chest.
“Try Juan,” Archie answers with a shrug.
My old hair stylist, Juan, gave Archie the message he passed along to me about Alison asking about me, but that was a while ago. I never responded. Not because I didn’t want to work with her, but because I was afraid being in the public eye again. After being attacked in the press and online—largely by Malcolm and his allies—I was afraid of what people would say and print about me.
So, I hid. I dodged. I ran. Just like Piper said. And I may have thrown away the chance of a lifetime because I did.
I chew the corner of my lip and slide a lock of hair between my fingers. The ends are dark from when I first dyed it before leaving LA. I found a girl in Serenity, who was the best stylist in town. And for a small town, she is fantastic. She kept it looking good for the times I wasn’t hiding under a wig.
