Brody

Goddamn.

I cursed when I woke the next day and glanced to the clock. If I got up, I’d make it for lunch. I was pretty sure I had a folder given to me with the itinerary, and they had times allotted for every meal. I shouldn’t have been able to eat. I drank an entire bottle of bourbon last night, but my looks hadn’t been the only other genes I inherited from my family—my stomach of steel had come from my uncle who had been a raging alcoholic. I could inhale an entire pizza with breakfast.

“Brody.”

Gayle knocked on the outside door.

My voice, which was half-gurgle, half-shout was not made of steel. “Go the fuck away!” Pain ripped through my head. For further effect, I reached down, grabbed a shoe, and hurled it across the room. My bedroom was inside the small cabin, but I buried my head back into my pillow. If I heard them, I was hoping they heard me.

She added, quieter, “I claimed jet lag for your absence this morning, but if you don’t get that million-dollar ass out here, I will personally book you a ticket back to Los Angeles.”

I was at the front door in a flash, reaching for the knob. Pausing, I glanced down. Yes. I had underwear on, and then I ripped open that door. I held up my hands. “Gayle, I’m so sorry.” I would’ve gotten on my knees if I thought it would help. Real shame laced my veins. “I’m an asshole in recovery.”

She came inside, shutting the door. “You’re a grieving brother. I don’t care about whatever you threw at the door. I care that you missed a breakfast meeting we had scheduled with the producers.”

“Producers?” I scratched behind my ear. “I thought I met them last night.”

“Not the Kellermans. I meant the production company they’re working with on this.”

“What?” I was searching my memory. I had faults, but forgetting meetings was not one of them. “I had no idea. Really.”

“Oh.” Her forehead wrinkled again. “Maybe I forgot to tell you.” Then she waved it all away, shooing me. “You’re too young for me to ogle anymore. Take a shower and be up in the main house in twenty minutes. Got it? The director will be there, and you better not miss that meeting.”

The director. Fuck. I nodded, my hand twitching at my side ready with a salute too. “Got it.”

She started to leave, but turned back. “Oh, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Kara Toilley is arriving today. Don’t fuck the lead actress. Got it?”

I smirked but bit my tongue. “Not a problem.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re smirking. Why are you smirking?”

“Huh?”

Comprehension dawned, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Are you kidding me, Brody? You already screwed her, didn’t you?”

Three times, in fact.

I lifted a shoulder. “We did a commercial together. It was momentous.”

“Is she going to be a problem? Who haven’t you slept with on this movie?”

I raised an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look.

She started laughing as she shook her head. “Don’t start fluttering those long eyelashes at me. You’re a boy in my opinion.” She waved a hand up and down toward me. “Your body might be all man, but I view you like one of my kids. That pecker better never harden for me. Got that?” She ended with a bark.

I did salute her this time. “Yes, ma’am.” But I was grinning. She said I was all man. It shouldn’t matter one bit, but my ego felt a bit stroked. Or maybe it was hearing that she viewed me as one of hers.

I scratched the side of my neck. “I’ll be good. I promise, and don’t worry about Kara. She’s a hit-it-quit-it type, so I’m sure I was a notch on her bedpost.”

“Aren’t you to everyone?” She held a hand up, moving through the door. “Just keep the pants on, Brody, and you have fifteen minutes!”

The shower was quick. Getting ready was even quicker. I put some gel in my hair, letting it dry messy. The look tended to work on anyone who liked guys. Jeans and a shirt were next. I didn’t put on anything super trendy, just simple. When I left the cabin, I knew I was the vision of a celebrity. It was what they hired me to be, so it was the mask I wore for them.

“Brody.” Kellerman approached when I stepped inside the house.

“Matthew.” I shook his hand and, recognizing the woman next to him, I nodded. “Shanna Michaels. Hello. It’s great to see you.”

The director was in her forties, had sandy-colored hair, alert blue eyes, and the same attitude I felt from Gayle. She was no-nonsense and whip-smart—at least that was her reputation. She seemed it in person too.

She shook my hand, a slight grin tugging at her mouth as if she thought I was being funny. “We’ve met before, Brody. Have you forgotten?”

Did I sleep with her?

No. I would’ve remembered. Then I did. “The audition! Yes.”

“Before that as well.”

Maybe I had slept with her.

She said, “You hit on me at a premiere party.”

I stilled.

Not good. Not good at all.

“Shit.” I held up my hands. “I’m sorry. I—”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. It didn’t go further than that. I knew I’d want you on one of my movies one day.” She caught my hand in a surprisingly strong grip and leaned in close before she murmured in my ear so no one could hear. “But if you weren’t such a damned gifted actor, I would’ve taken you up on that weekend offer.”

Great.

Fuck.

I used to be professional . . . at some point. “I’ll take that as a compliment then.”

She leaned back, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “You should, and we should get down to business. We have the table read scheduled for today. Kara will be arriving shortly.”

Matthew was rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. Khaki shorts. Loafer sandals. A slightly pink buttoned-down shirt. He looked like the epitome of every Harvard jackass.

“Did you sleep well, Brody?”

Once I passed out. “Yes, I did. You?”

He hesitated before clipping his head in a nod. “Of course. This mountain air tends to calm me. Always has.”

Interest stirred in me. “You lived here when you were a kid?”

“No.” He began scanning the room. “When I was a teenager, and even then, it was only for a few years. When Karen . . . when Karen died, we mostly all moved away.”

Mostly?

The image of that girl running away flashed in my mind again.

I’d been sitting on the second floor patio last night, toasting Kyle, when a flash of movement had drawn my attention as it streaked across the field in front of me. It was only after I watched her run to the fence that I realized a horse was there. I was starting to wonder if the girl was a ghost. Maybe Kyle was messing with me, making me see shit lately.

“Who’s the ‘we’?”

He stopped scanning, freezing a moment before looking back at me. His eyes were clearer than before. “What?”

“You said ‘we mostly.’ Who else was here?”

He held my gaze steady, unblinking. He kept it tight to the vest, more so than others, but I knew this guy was close to shitting his pants.

An unnatural smile broke over his face, giving him a plastic look. “My siblings and I. Peter kept the house, but we all moved back to Livingston and then to L.A. later.”

Not Dad. Peter. That was interesting. “How old were you when . . . it happened?” It. What did they say when they referred to their stepmother’s murder?

Matthew waited a beat. “I was sixteen when Karen was murdered.” His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. He coughed, clearing his throat. “The twins were fourteen then. And—” He stopped himself.

I found myself leaning toward him. He was about to say something else, maybe add someone else to the equation. That girl? There was a story there. She was someone to him, someone to this place.

I didn’t think I was seeing a ghost.

Or hell, maybe I was. I’d already gotten called out for hitting on my director. I was pretty sure I’d been wasted at that party. Play along? Keep my trap shut? Make sure I didn’t land myself in another heap of trouble.

Looking over, I saw Gayle watching us as she ignored Abby and a girl from the crew who were talking next to her.

As if knowing what I was thinking, she moved her head from side to side. It was so slow the girls with her didn’t notice, but I did. And I knew what she was saying.

Yep. Got it.

Keep my fucking mouth shut.

So, I smiled and said the most generic thing I could think of, “How about that weather you guys have here, huh?”