Page 66 of Cast to be Mine

I didn’t argue. Partly because she was right—I was running on fumes. Mostly because having her here, in my space, felt like the first good thing that had happened all day.

We settled onto the couch, containers spread between us like a feast. Grace started pointing at things, explaining what she’d ordered.

“Poke—you know what that is. Garlic shrimp, which Kai said was mandatory.” She held up a container of something that looked like a heart attack waiting to happen. “And this is loco moco.”

I peered at it. Rice, a hamburger patty, a fried egg, all drowning in brown gravy. “What the hell is that?”

“Comfort food, Hawaiian style.”

I cringed. “I’m not sure about that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” She shoved a fork in my direction. “Also, Spam musubi. Hawaiians love Spam. It’s a whole thing.”

“Spam.” I stared at the rice-wrapped rectangle she was holding up. “Like, the canned meat?”

“Trust me.”

“I’ve heard about the Spam thing. Last time I was in Hawaii, I think I might have had it, but I’d also had a lot of cocktails. I don’t remember what I ate.”

She laughed. “I’ve had it before. It’s good. Not saying I’m gonna buy a can and cook it at home, but when in Hawaii…”

I took a bite. It was… actually good. Salty and savory, the rice sticky and perfect. Grace watched me with barely contained glee as my expression shifted from skepticism to appreciation.

“Told you,” she said smugly.

The room was silent as we stuffed our faces. Looked like she was just as hungry as I was. The poke was fresh and bright, the garlic shrimp lived up to the hype, and the loco moco was exactly as comforting as she’d promised. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I’d demolished half of everything.

“Thank you,” I said, setting down my fork. “For this. I would have worked straight through the night and wondered why I couldn’t open my eyes in the morning.”

“I know.” She smiled softly. “That’s why I came.”

She’d been thinking about me. Worrying about me. It shouldn’t have affected me as much as it did. But when was the last time someone cared enough to get me food and insist I eat? Besides my mother.

Maybe never.

Eventually, the food was mostly gone and we’d migrated to opposite ends of the couch, our legs stretched out in the middle, not quite touching. I was full, content, and finally relaxed.

“Can I tell you something?” I asked.

She tilted her head. “You’re going to tell me this was risky.”

I grinned. “You already know that.”

“I calculated risk versus reward. Saving our director from starvation was worth it.”

“My father called me. Before we left LA.” I hesitated. I’d been thinking about this conversation and debated whether to tell her at all. But she needed to know. “He found out who you really are. Gordon Sterling’s daughter.”

Her expression shifted, wariness creeping into her eyes. “And?”

“And he lost his mind.” I laughed humorlessly. “Told me I never should have hired you. That I couldn’t trust a Sterling.”

Grace’s face fell. “Micah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause problems with your family.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s ancient history. Stuff that happened before either of us were born.” I shifted, turning to face her more fully. “He told me the whole story. Or his version of it, anyway.”

“What did he say?”

I took a breath. “Apparently your father and my mother were attached to the same project, back when my parents were dating. Your dad tried to change the terms of her contract at the last minute. When she wouldn’t agree, she quit. Went to work on a film with my father instead.”