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Once inside, my brother Dillon surprised me. “Hey, Daniel Boone, long time no see.”
“And who’s fault is that?” I shot back as we hugged. It seemed Tawny’s intel had been correct.
Dillon had left town in search of his destiny in Hollywood. At times it seemed like he’d found it. But on his previous visit I’d caught a different vibe from him, a lonely one.
“The town’s not big enough for both of us, and I wanted to give you a chance at the girls.” He winked.
I separated from him. “Are you back because you ran out of starlets in L.A. stupid enough to fuck you?”
He laughed. “L.A.’s a big town. There’s probably even a few hard up enough to take your sorry ass to bed, for a decent meal. Come on out and I’ll introduce you to one. After that, you’re on your own.”
I shook my head. “Honestly, how long are you here?”
“Tonight, and then maybe this weekend. I’m on a shoot in Charlotte and have an early call tomorrow.”
I slapped him on the back. “This weekend too? Cool. Up for a little pool while you’re here?”
“Sure. But first, Pris mentioned this new girl I need to check out for possible casting.”
“Looking for somebody real instead of your normal empty-headed pretty face?”
He smiled and nodded. “You could say that. I want a leading lady I can really connect with, and for once, the director wants my input.”
“Makes sense,” I replied.Finally somebody in Hollywood who has brains enough to understand that films are more authentic when the actors have actual chemistry.
“Exactly. Right? That’s why I want to meet this chick Pris mentioned. Angela somebody...”
Seeing red, I backed him against the wall. “You will stay the fuck away from—”
He hit the wall hard and put up his hands, laughing. “So it’s true.”
“One more word,” I growled, “and I will end you.”
When he kept laughing, I banged the fucker once more against the wall and retreated to the kitchen to let Mom and Dad know I was here.Fucking Dillon.
I found Marge helping Mom with dinner, and Case and his sweetheart, Deputy Jordan, were also already here. The sound of the door opening brought the three of us back to the entryway to find Waylon and his girl, Anna, but oddly, not Pris.
Dillon took Anna into a hug that was a good five seconds too long. “Oh, I missed you, Annabelle,” Dillon said. “You want to know how many years I’ve missed you?”
“That’s enough,” Waylon said, pulling Dillon off her.
“Bugger off, mate. Can’t a man say g’day to an old friend?” Dillon asked, switching into an Australian accent.
Waylon reclaimed Anna. “Bugger off yourself. This sheila’s taken.” He didn’t attempt the accent.
As we walked back toward the kitchen, Jordan whispered to Anna. “Ignore Dillon. He’s just like that, and he’s practicing the accent for his next part.”
Dillon couldn’t help but be an ass.
“Tawny at The Boathouse says hi,” I mentioned to Dillon. “I think she’d like you to stop by.”
His head bobbed, but no words came out.
More hugs followed in the kitchen.
“Will Angela be joining us?” Mom asked.
Marge halted her cutting, clearly waiting on my answer.
