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Clare clears her throat, looking uncomfortably between us. “Um, yeah… May I kindly ask that you choose a morehealingtone of a voice? All this negativity isn’t conducive to drawing in the positive energy we need to kick off your father’s journey toward sobriety.”
Dad and I both sneer at the woman.
“Is this even a professional rehabilitation facility?” Dad grumbles under his breath.
I sigh. “Yes, Dad. It’s one of the best in the city.”That’s what Hunter told me, anyway.“Look, I’m just a phone call away. I really do want you to get better, Dad. For your sake, not mine.”
He nods solemnly, his gaze locked on his shoes like a third grader being scolded by their teacher. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
“I know.”
“I’ll get better. I promise.”
My stomach flips, a sudden wave of nausea sitting directly in the center of my belly. It’s a dizzying sensation, but I manage to swallow it. Clare’s fruity strawberry and cherry perfume is giving me the headache to end all headaches.
“I love you, Dad. I’m being hard on you because I have to be, not because I want to be.” I give him a tight hug. “I believe you can do this, Dad. I really,reallydo.”
Dad hugs me back, patting me lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll do better, Eden. I’m going to do my best.”
“Prove me right.”
* * *
It feels good to get back to work. I’ve missed being on set, and I’ve missed working with Hunter even more. Several of the sets have changed drastically since I’ve been away, and there are even more actors and extras running around now that the production’s filming some of the more climactic scenes.
Hunter gives me a knowing smile when he sees me turn the corner. “Eden.”
I nod courteously. “Mr. Stride.” I hand him a cup of coffee, as well as a manila folder with a few documents that he needs to sign. We fall right back into the swing of things, playing our roles of employer and employee to a T. I doubt anybody here suspects a thing about us.
For some reason, it’s thrilling as hell.
Hunter dips in close when nobody’s looking, murmuring softy in my ear. “How’d everything go with Thomas?”
“Good. Yeah, good. He promised to get better. Only time will tell, I guess.”
“If you or your father need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”
I smile. “Thank you, Mr. Stride. Seriously.”
“We’re only shooting one scene today, and I don’t suspect it’ll take very long. We can grab dinner at El Blanco, if—”
“Eden!”
I turn, startled by my mother’s voice. Annabeth hurries over in a half-skip, half-jog with a cautious smile on her face. She’s still in costume, a casual pair of jeans, a dark grey V-neck shirt, and she’s wearing minimal makeup. In the scene, Juliet’s supposed to be blending in with the crowd as she escapes from a handful of enemies, so it makes sense that she’s dressed like every other average Jane.
“Hello,” I greet her, maybe a bit too curtly.
Her nervous smile falters for a little bit. She’s skittish for some reason, glancing at Hunter before looking back at me. “Eden, um… I was wondering… Are you free to have dinner with me tonight?”
Her question takes me by surprise. “You… What?”
“Dinner. With me. Tonight?” She shifts her weight from foot to foot. For someone who plays such a confident character, Annabeth is anything but. “We haven’t really had a chance to catch up. Filming has been keeping me too busy, but I have a break in my schedule tomorrow and thought it might be nice to grab a bite together.”
“Oh, uh…”
I honestly don’t know what to say. Why does Annabeth want to spend time with me? I feel bad that my first thought is that she’s got some sort of end game, an ulterior motive that I’m not yet privy to. Is she trying to make nice for some reason? After all these years, why would she bother? Why does Annabeth keep looking at Hunter like she’s seeking guidance?
“Mr. Stride was just telling me he had work for me to—”
