She narrows her eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t ask a woman, much less a client, much lessA-list actress Marissa Morgan, if she was pregnant.”
Toby doesn’t respond but looks guilty as hell as he stuffs pasta down his gullet. Shelby pinches the bridge of her nose. Serves her right for trying to rope my Neanderthal brother into her gossip.
“Did she at least seem excited to be spending the summer here?” she asks, turning her attention to me. Exasperation has crept into her voice and it’s clear that she’s losing patience with both of us.
I shrug again. “I don’t know. I guess.”
Truthfully, Marissa didn’t seem excited at all. If anything, she seemed kind of sad. I think that’s what’s been nagging at me most. Her eyes have lost that memorable sparkle. And it doesn’t make sense. She’s got it all: success, money, two great kids. Real, rare beauty that deepens the closer you look. What could a woman like her possibly have to feel sad about?
I’ll admit I’ve kept track of her over the years. Not in a creepy way, of course. Casually. I’ve seen the magazine covers. I know she took a step back from Hollywood to parent her kids. I know her dickbag of an ex cheated on her for years, and that they ultimately split up.
I know she’s single again.
Shelby’s eyes are still burning a hole into my skull, and I realize I’d better throw her a bone before she starts digging a six-foot hole in the backyard.
“Well, she did seem interested in getting some additional work done on the house. I mentioned that you could swing by next week. Check out the place, pitch her some ideas and—”
“Holy shit, Jesse!” She squeals loudly enough for Diesel to pop his head up to see what’s going on. “Marissa Morgan wantsmeto come to her house, and you’re just now mentioning it?”
Her face is turning red, and I hide my smile, taking another mouthful of spaghetti. Shelby’s the little sister I never had, and I can’t resist an opportunity to get under her skin.
She turns to Toby and shakes her head in frustration. “Remind me again why he’s the head of the company?”
“Because he’s the one with half a degree in business management,” my brother reminds her.
“Okay, butI’mthe one with the interpersonal skills,” she argues.
“You’re not wrong,” I agree. “Feel free to take over any time. You know it wasn’t my choice to be in charge.”
Toby’s eyes drop to his plate. Shelby’s gaze shifts to her husband.
Shit.I didn’t mean to be so blunt about it. My family history is a wound that never seems to scab over and somehow, I’m always the one picking at it.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be a part of the family business. I started working summers for the company in high school and mastered the basics: carpentry, flooring, drywalling, some minor electrical stuff. It was a great job, especially when I was young and needed spending money. But staying on forever wasn’t my long-term plan. And I certainly never intended to run the entire company, an undertaking so overwhelming that I lost both my sanity and my girlfriend.
Then again, Dad never intended to drop dead in the driveway.
I take a minute to consider why I waited so long to tell Shelby about Marissa. Maybe it’s because of some misguided urge to protect her, even though it was clear she didn’t recognize me. Which was fine. It’s been years since we last saw each other, and back then, I was just a scrawny kid who lived on the other side of the lake. I was never as memorable as she is.
Marissa stopped summering in the Poconos after joining hershow. I assumed I’d never see her again. That is, until I turned on the TV one afternoon and there she was, singing and dancing in my living room. Toby doesn’t remember her; he was only eight when she last visited, and he mostly played with the younger kids anyway. Shelby knows that Marissa is here because she’s inherited her grandmother’s house. But she has no idea that we knew each other in a past life. That while she may be a stranger to the rest of my family, she’s anything but a stranger to me.
Diesel drops his head into my lap, and I scratch behind his ears. He licks my hand and then lets out a loud, satisfied fart. Charlotte shrieks with gleeful disgust and I laugh. Boxers are known for being gassy, but Diesel seems to have a particularly sensitive digestive system.
Shelby wrinkles her nose. “Why can’t you leave that animal at home?”
“For the same reason I never ask you to leave your animal at home.” I grin at my brother. “He’s family.”
“All right, all right,” Toby grumbles as he reaches for another scoop of spaghetti. Like Shelby, he knows exactly why I’ve brought my dog for dinner. Even after four years of living with me, he still struggles with separation anxiety, probably because of how things went down with his first owners. He was shivering and soaked in rain when I found him abandoned in a cardboard box outside the gas station. Poor guy still doesn’t like to get wet.
The vet told me some owners experience buyer’s remorse when they realize how challenging the breed can be as puppies. Maybe someone decided they’d had enough of his bad habits and dumped him off. Why anyone would abandon a helpless dog on the street instead of giving it to a shelter is beyond me. But if there’s one thing I know to be true, it’s that people always find ways to disappoint you. Maybe that’s why Diesel and I are drawn to each other. We both know what it’s like to be dropped like a bad habit when we don’t live up to people’s expectations.
My thoughts drift back to Marissa. The intense way she was staring at me in the foyer made me wonder if maybe she did recognize me. If she felt like we’d met before but couldn’t quite put her finger on where.
I push the thought away before it can go any farther. When it comes to Marissa, I need to keep my expectations in check. Even if she does make the connection, what’s she going to do? Challenge me to a game of four square? Ask me to race her across the lake in a canoe? It’s not like we’re kids anymore. We’re not even on the same plane of human existence anymore. She’s a movie star and I’m… well, I’m a small-town contractor whose inner circle includes a toddler and a flatulent canine.
Luckily, our future interactions should be minimal. According to Shelby, Marissa’s only here for the summer anyway, and she’ll probably be busy with her kids. She seems like a great mom, which doesn’t surprise me. She always had that empathy about her. I remember how patient she was with the one kid who was afraid to go out in the canoe. She spent so much time working with him that I’m pretty sure he started faking it after a while, just so they could keep rowing out together. Every kid in the neighborhood had a crush on her, and who could blame them? She always had that star quality, the kind that pulls you right into her orbit. When Marissa was around, it was hard to focus on anything else.
From across the table, Shelby is giving me a suspicious look.
