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Reeve clears his throat. “How does that sauce look, Lottie?” he asks, and I swear, his ears are turning red as he returns to his spot at the stove.
“It’s time to add the vegetables back,” the girl announces, then glances over at me. She’s tall and gangly, wearing a NASA hoodie that’s practically down to her knees. “We’re doing Moroccan chicken, with harissa,” she explains. “It’s going to blow your sinuses out, but in a good way.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“So, you’re from the area, then?” Hazel doesn’t skip a beat, she takes the wine from me and finds a corkscrew; pointing me towards some cheese and olives while Reeve and Lottie take care of the main event. As she quizzes me about my work and family here in town, I can see the family resemblance: both she and Reeve have a natural friendliness about them, as well as the same teasing smile of amusement, and soon, we’re all chatting away over dinner about my experiences onFortune Hunting, and their stories from the movie sets.
“He always has to have his way,” Hazel confides, over a table of now-empty plates. “At least when it comes to the creative side of things. Temperamental genius,” she adds with a wry look. “You should have seen him when he was in high school, he went through a French New Wave phase, walked around all in black scowling about art and truth and all that jazz.”
“Lies and slander,” Reeve replies cheerfully, stealing leftovers from Lottie’s plate. “Don’t listen to a word they say.”
“It’s true,” Lottie pipes up. “I visited set last summer, and he made Avery Lawrence cry!”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Reeve protests. “She had something in her eye! Although, it did make for a great scene,” he adds as an afterthought. “She’s an amazing crier. Always knows where her light is.”
“And if she doesn’t have it, she’ll elbow you out of the way to get it,” Hazel mutters, rolling her eyes.
I smile, enjoying all their banter and friendly teasing. It’s clear Reeve is a big part of Lottie’s life, and watching the pair of them joke around together is a whole new angle on the man.
“You know,when we were younger, he conscripted all the neighborhood kids to do shot-for-shot reenactments ofThe Lion King.”
“For real?” I ask, laughing.
“I’ll have you know, that was a cinematic masterpiece,” Reeve corrects her good-naturedly. “I filmed it with dad’s camcorder, that thing belongs in a museum one day.”
“Except the shoot came to an abrupt end, when he nearly dropped our baby cousin off the side of the treehouse,” Hazel adds.
“He was fine!” Reeve exclaims. “I just needed him to dangle for this one shot. I tried to explain to our parents that it was Pride Rock, but they weren’t impressed,” he adds with a sigh. “I was grounded for like a month.”
“Poor tortured artist,” I tease. “So misunderstood.”
“See, someone finally understands,” Reeve smiles at me across the table. “Tell them I’m not the power-crazed dictator they say I am.”
“He’s not,” I agree. “He’s pretty much been fetching me coffee and doing my bidding all week without a word of complaint.”
Following clues, backing me up against Jake and co, bringing me to my knees with pleasure …
Our eyes lock across the table, and I can tell, he’s thinking the same steamy things.
Hazel clears her throat, looking delighted. “Then I hope you’re coming out to LA for a visit soon, Ivy. Because lord knows, we could use some help keeping Reeve’s ego in check.”
I pause. “Maybe,” I look away, feeling self conscious. “We haven’t really talked about it.”
“And there I go, making things awkward!” Hazel laughs.
Reeve gets to his feet. “Come on, kid, you can help me clear.”
“But we’re guests,” Lottie beams.
He chuckles. “Which means you need to earn your keep,”
“Is that a hint to me?” I ask with a yawn. “Because I don’t know if I’m moving anytime soon …”
“You’re excused,” Reeve winks, starting to clear.
“Not fair!” Lottie complains, following him to the kitchen. I watch her and Reeve bicker over dish duty, and smile.
“You have kids?” Hazel asks.
