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“Okay, great.” Twenty-one was very manageable.
When Lila left, Cara realized she was indeed getting hungry. She decided to unpack first, then go and scrounge in the kitchen. As she hefted her suitcase onto the bed and unzipped it, her cell rang.
It was Holt, her brother. She pressed the speaker button and answered. “Perfect timing, as always.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” Holt’s deep voice rumbled through the phone. “I can’t tell.”
“Not sarcastic.” Cara smiled. Holt was always a bit serious, sometimes intense. Like her dad. “I’m in Wyoming, unpacking my suitcase in my ranch house bedroom, complete with a patchwork quilt that looks handstitched.”
“Sounds like a great bedroom—it’s just the wrong state, sis.”
“You been talking to Mom, or something?”
Holt scoffed. “Can’t a brother check in on his sister? Ask her why she’s not coming home for Christmas . . . again?”
“Sure, you can check in all you want, but you know this is my job.”
His sigh was audible. “Yah, I know. Just want you to know you’re loved and missed.”
This made Cara feel a bit guilty for being defensive. “Thanks, Holt. I’d be there if I could. I really would.”
“Well, since we have to be three states apart, tell me about this important event you’re cooking for.”
Cara wondered if her mom had let on to her brothers that she was cooking for a Hollywood mogul. She said it all in one breath. “I’m at Roman De Marco’s ranch, where his production company is filming a season of Frontier Town. They’re filming over the holidays, and Mr. De Marco wanted to do something special for the cast and crew.”
Holt was silent for so long that Cara thought they’d been disconnected. Finally, he released a low whistle. “Wow, sis. I hope your cooking is at the top of your game, because I want an autograph.”
Cara smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about my cooking. And I’ll see what I can do about an autograph. Give me a few days, though—I don’t want to be a groupie.”
“You’d better send pictures, too,” Holt said. “Knox and Lane are going to freak. Not to mention Dad.”
Cara laughed. “Yeah, I know . . . I’ll see what I can do.”
It seemed she was really in for it, because Holt started asking questions about the actors, none of which Cara could answer because she hadn’t met any of them yet.
By the time her brother was done fan-boying, Cara had unpacked. “I should really go,” she said. “I mean, how am I supposed to stalk all of these people from my bedroom?”
Holt chuckled. “Keep me posted, sis, I mean it.”
“Will do.”
