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“Exterior security of any kind? Property fence?”
“No.”
“So you have a gun. And a chicken.” The tiniest of smiles crossed the man’s face.
“And some goats and horses. A couple wild turkeys run through now and then…” I trailed off, realizing too late that Jack wasn’t really looking for a rundown of our livestock situation.
“Just secure the weapon please,” Jack said. “And Ms. Manchester said bunking here on the property wouldn’t be an issue?”
I tried not to let my surprise show. Juliet had invited two security guards to stay at the house, and hadn’t bothered to mention it to me? “Sure, that’s no issue. So… the two of you.”
“There’ll be four of us. And then Ms. Manchester and Mr. McDonnell.”
A little spike of excitement made my stomach jump. Ryan McDonnellwascoming here.
With Juliet.
The excitement turned to a clump of hard annoyance. I knew my sister was coming home. I didn’t know she was bringing five additional houseguests with her. But I was a Southern girl, and I let that information sink in and absorbed it with a smile. “Well, of course that’s just fine,” I told them. “The more, the merrier. I’ll just open up the east wing and get some rooms ready for y’all.”
I waved the men into the house to do whatever it was they needed to do as I rushed to finish making something for Gran to eat and then headed for the part of the house we generally kept closed off. It would be dusty and dank, but the sheets would be clean.
Once Gran was eating and drinking her Manhattan in the kitchen, the two men finished up their rounds and appeared in the doorway. Chessy was hot on the tail of the one she’d chosen for herself, Jack.
“All set Miss,” Jack said. “Ms. Manchester should be here soon.”
I watched the two men head for the front door and then I began to sit across from Gran to eat, but the gun down my pants made it all but impossible. I’d almost forgotten about it as I’d rushed around the house. I pulled it out and set it on the table, where Gran eyed it curiously but went on eating.
“What the fuck was that all about?” she asked, a mouthful of pasta barely masking her profanity.
“Juliet is coming. Tonight.”
“Ah.” The great thing about Gran was that she could accept just about anything without letting it faze her. “Planning to shoot her?”
I rolled my eyes at my grandmother and sipped at my own whiskey. Juliet had a way of stirring things up. Part of me welcomed the change in pace, and part of me resented her assumptions that we’d just mold to her needs, change our schedules and do whatever it was that America’s favorite star required.
I washed our plates at the sink and looked out over the back yard.
The water looked smooth and calm as it flowed down toward the Chesapeake past the long gentle slope of Gran’s backyard in the shimmering light of the moon. It was peaceful and serene, and as I went through our nightly routine, I pushed myself to feel the same. My life might not be exciting—especially if you were to compare it to my sister’s—but it was mine, and it was good. I was happy.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
Chapter Three
Ryan
Juliet was on the phone almost the entire car ride to a place I could only assume was located somewhere between outer Mongolia and the moon, based on the length of time we’d been driving since landing in DC. This wasn’t a part of the country I was familiar with, and once we’d gotten south of the beltway, I was legitimately lost.
I’d checked messages, snoozed and even played a few rounds of Candy Crush as Juliet fielded calls from all directions—her agent, the producer of her next film, and her ex-husband, giving me a pretty in-your-face reminder of how impressive her career was compared to mine.
“I guess I should call my sister,” she said after a while, dialing another number on her phone. “Tess,” she said into the phone.
I glanced at my watch, a little worried that it was already almost one AM. Was her sister generally up at this hour?
“Yes, I know,” she was saying. “I’m sorry about the short notice. And the hour. And about the security guys.” She apologized for about four more things and then rolled her eyes to me and made a mouth sign with her hand, opening and closing it over and over before returning her attention to the phone. “Tess, I hear you. And I would have totally given you more notice about Ryan and the guards. It’s just … things have happened really quickly.” Now she shot me a look that was clearly an apology to me. Her full pink lips pressed into a line as her blue-gray eyes widened and she gave a tiny shake of her head.
I was beginning to wonder if this whole thing had been a mistake. “Go for it!” My agent had said. “It sure can’t hurt your career!” He’d told me. But agreeing to pose as Juliet Manchester’s boyfriend was something that might have begged a bit more thought.
Except my career was sinking, and being linked to Juliet—even for a minute—could yank me out of the murk of obscurity and back into view of the directors and producers who seemed to have written me off after my last three action films flopped. And that was without even mentioning the fiasco that wasCharade of Stones.I’d been on that show for five seasons, my star power growing the whole time, until the writers lost their minds and ended the series by killing off half the main characters and casting the others into obscurity, pissing off every loyal viewer they’d gained in previous seasons. For some reason, the actors were all paying the price for that ridiculousness.
