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I can feel her pulling away. Does she want to distance herself from me? I thought we had a connection, but maybe I’m just another annoying fan. “I want to. You know, if it works out for you. I’m sure you’ll be busy with your dad.”
“I hope so.” She finishes her tea and stands. “It’s getting late. I think I’ll head upstairs.”
I stand, too. “Sure. I’ll be up and out early again—you can sleep in if you want.”
She puts her mug in the sink and heads toward the stairs. “See you in the morning.”
* * *
I don’t see her in the morning. When I tiptoe past her door, I hear nothing from inside. I hover at the top of the stairs for a moment, but I’m not sure what I’m thinking about doing, so I go down and fix breakfast. Since I didn’t prep my lunch last night, I have to hurry through my morning coffee, and I’m out the door without hearing anything from my guest.
The day passes quickly, and I get home around four. The house is quiet and dark. As I pull into the driveway, Rachel’s dog barks from next door, and Alf leaps down from the side yard fence. He stalks toward me, then veers away when I rev the engine. I don’t want the town’s favorite cat trapped inside my garage. I pull in and shut the door.
A note waits on the kitchen counter.
Thanks for the sanctuary. I’ll be at Gasthaus Rodriguez until Sunday, then I’m moving to a house at the Ranch so I can stalk my dad. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your friendship.
Nica
Friendship. I snort to myself. That’s better than being a random fan, but I want more. It’s a good thing she’s gone—I don’t think I could have maintained my cool if she stayed here much longer. But if we’re friends, surely we can continue to spend some time together?
I’m kind of at war with myself. Even if it’s just friendship, I want to be with Nica. I love her sunshiny outlook on life and her occasional snarky comments. I feel like I’ve gotten to know the real woman—if only a little bit—and she’s even better than the characters on the small screen. Independent, challenging, funny. Not to mention charming, beautiful, and smart. Exactly what I want in a life partner.
But my rational side knows that’s not possible. For one thing, she’s way out of my league. For another, her life is in California, not Oregon. And she’s way too young for me. She’s closer in age to Eva than to me.
It doesn’t matter. Smitten me is not listening to the logical arguments I’m laying out. He’s just whining for one more day with Nica. I reach for my phone. I could repeat my offer to take her sightseeing this weekend. We could take the motorcycle—she seemed to like riding with me on the Ranch. I know a couple of stunning view sites that are only accessible via Forest Service roads. A four-wheel drive car can get there, but it’s easier—and more fun—on a bike.
Before I decide whether to send the text, my phone vibrates in my hand, startling me. I fumble with it, nearly dropping it into the sink, then click the home button. The message is from Stella.
Stella
Sorry I bailed on you last night.
Yeah, what was that all about? You’ve never had a migraine in your life.
Just trying to help. You’re welcome.
I’m not sure it did, but thanks.
She doesn’t respond. I consider calling, but I’ll see her in an hour at rehearsal, so I shove the phone back into my pocket and work on dinner.
The fire hall parking lot is packed. As I approach, I pull out my phone to check the schedule. I thought full crew rehearsals didn’t start until next week. The schedule shows actors only, but more cars pull into the last slots as I approach on foot.
A shiny yellow classic Porsche sits in the front row, gleaming in the setting sun. My heart bounces joyfully in my chest. Nica is back!
I push between the people milling in the entrance and make my way to the “stage.” Nica and Edie stand by the cardboard boxes that stand in for planters at the von Trapp mansion.
“Hi.” Scintillating conversation, Hertzsprung. Sure to win her heart. I shove romantic Matt to the back of my mind and smile at Edie, pretending Nica and I are simply coworkers. “What’s with the crowd?”
Edie waves an arm at the throng now settling into the seats usually occupied by off-stage actors. “Word of our change in leading ladies has reached the masses.”
I glance at Nica. She looks… nervous? Surely not.
“What change? Is Hannah out for the count?”
“She is.” Edie makes a flourishing bow toward Nica. “And Nica has generously agreed to step in.”
“But what about Stella? Isn’t she the understudy?” I look from one woman to the other.
