“Are you exchanging gifts?” Kristen asked.
Abby nodded. “He said he has something for me. And I’d already bought his weeks ago.”
“Are you ready to take him back?” Kate asked. She imagined it must be hard to exchange gifts and then go their separate ways.
But Abby shook her head. “No, I’m not ready. I need time. A lot of time, I think. It’s barely been a week. And the holidays are so full of emotion, it’s not normal everyday feelings. If I took him back now, I don’t think anything would change. I don’t think he gets it yet.” She sighed as they continued to walk.
“Have you considered counseling?” Kristen asked.
“I hadn’t, but Jeff asked me that this morning too, and I said that I’d be open to it. It can’t hurt I suppose?”
“It might be a really good thing. To help you communicate better about what’s really bothering you and maybe come up with a solution that works for both of you.” Kate thought counseling might be a step in the right direction. She liked Jeff too, and it had felt strange that he wasn’t with their family for Christmas.
“How are things going with Sean?” Abby asked Kristen.
“No change. He’s at his ex’s house today for Christmas dinner, with their son, Julian.”
“He still spends a lot of time with his ex. Any updates on when his divorce will be finalized?” Kate asked.
Kristen laughed. “As far as I know, he hasn’t even filed yet. They’re still just separated.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize that. I thought you guys were getting more serious.”
“Yeah, well, it’s complicated I guess.” Kristen sounded like she didn’t really want to say more than that, so Kate changed the subject and told them about the Airbnb listing.
“I’ll show it to you when we get back. It will be interesting to see if she gets any bites. I don’t really know what to expect this time of year.”
“I still think it’s a strange idea. I know mom needs to make money somehow, and I know it’s selfish of me, but I don’t like it,” Abby admitted.
“I’ve warmed up to the idea. I agree it will be strange, at least at first, but I think it might be good for her,” Kate said.
They reached the lighthouse and turned around. Kate was glad for the walk, and it was fun chatting with her sisters. They both caught her up on all the island gossip.
“So, when do you start your freelance assignment?” Kristen asked. “The film festival sounds like a fun thing to write about.”
“I have a meeting on Monday, actually. I’m interviewing Philippe Gaston.”
“The Philippe Gaston? He’s on the island already?” Abby asked.
“He bought a place a few years ago and spends most of his time here, when he’s not flying to LA or somewhere for a filming project.”
“He belongs to the same country club that Sean does,” Kristen said. “He says he’s a great golfer.”
“Where does he live?” Abby asked.
“He has a beach house in ‘Sconset. That’s where I’m meeting him. I’m curious to see what it’s like,” Kate admitted. ’Sconset, short for Siasconset was one of the most exclusive and expensive areas on Nantucket.
“Is he still married to that actress?” Kristen asked.
“I’m not sure. I thought I read that they were getting divorced, but that was a while ago.”
“He’s hot, like seriously ridiculously handsome. Maybe he’ll help you get over Dylan?” Abby grinned.
But Kate laughed at the idea of it. “That’s the last thing I’m looking for. From what I’ve read, he’s another Dylan type, and I don’t need that. I am looking forward to talking to him though. He’s enormously talented.” Philippe was a New York Times bestselling author turned film producer and more recently, he’d been creating TV drama series for Netflix. She knew he’d started his career in journalism too and she was curious to learn how he made the transition. A secret dream of hers was to write a novel, and she was thinking she could get started on it while she was on Nantucket for the winter. But, part of her was terrified of the idea too, terrified of failure.
When they reached the house, the snow was beginning to softly fall again. Once they were inside and settled around the kitchen island with cups of hot tea all around, Kate opened her laptop to show her sisters the listing on Airbnb. She was shocked to see that she had an email alert already.
“Mom, we have our first reservation!” she called out.
“We do?” Her mother paused the movie and joined them in the kitchen.
“A Rhett Byrne is arriving New Year’s Eve and has booked a full week!” Kate announced excitedly.
“Well, isn’t that something?”
Kate was annoyed to find herself feeling a bit nervous as she drove down the long winding driveway that led to Phillip Gaston’s oceanfront home. There was nothing overly intimidating about the house, it was lovely, with huge windows that overlooked the water. And it wasn’t too big, unlike most of the homes on this street.
She parked out front, as he’d requested and gathered her tote bag with her notebook and voice recorder. She always liked to record her interviews whenever possible so she didn’t have to worry about missing anything. She knew that she was nervous because she was such a fan of his work more than the fact that he was ridiculously handsome. She was pretty sure that Dylan had cured her of falling for someone like him.
She slowly walked to the front door and rang the bell. A moment later a slightly overweight guy about her age opened the door. He was wearing an apron and looked vaguely familiar and then she remembered how she knew him.
“Gary?” He was a friend of Abby’s husband and had gone to school with them. He recognized her immediately.
“Hey, Kate. Good to see you.” He opened the door wider, and she stepped in. “Philippe will be down in a minute. He asked me to get the door. Come on in.”
She followed him to the kitchen where he had sheets of pasta spread out all over the kitchen counters and island.
“I didn’t realize you worked for Philippe?”
“I’m just doing some personal chef work for him when he’s on the island, depending what’s going on. He’s hosting a dinner tonight, for some Netflix execs that are in town for a few days.”
“Netflix. Wow.” Kate was impressed.
He smiled as he reached for his rolling pin. “I know, right? I’m hoping to wow them with my fresh lobster ravioli in Alfredo sauce.”
“That sounds amazing. Are you still with the Straight Wharf?” It was one of Kate’s favorite restaurants and was closed for the winter.
“Yeah, it’s a good gig. Ten years now. And I do my personal chef stuff on the side. Summers are crazy.” He chuckled. “Some of these people have me on call just to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—whatever they’re in the mood for.”
Kate smiled. That was how the other half lived on Nantucket. So many families that summered on the island were extremely wealthy. It was common for wives and children to stay all week, while their husbands worked in the city, running hedge funds or other insanely lucrative businesses and flew to their Nantucket homes for the weekends.
Too many owned breathtakingly gorgeous houses that sat empty except for the week or two they decided to take their vacation. These were the people who would hire a personal chef for their stay, to cater to their every whim even if it was as simple as a bowl of cereal or a sandwich.
“It looks like he appreciates what you’re able to do?” Kate commented.
Gary grinned. “Yeah, he let me pick the menu.”
Kate turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Philippe Gaston was walking toward her in faded jeans that fit his slim body perfectly. he was still buttoning a crisp white shirt as he walked and his dark brown hair was still damp and a bit too long and wavy. He smiled and apologized for keeping her waiting. His French accent was charming.
“Oh, I didn’t mind. Gary and I were catching up.”
“You know each oth
er?” He sounded surprised at first, then laughed. “Of course you do, you’re both natives right? Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, water?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
“Let’s go into my office then.” He led the way through the kitchen to a sunny room that faced the ocean. The walls were lined with bookcases and were overflowing with books. A large L-shaped wooden desk sat in the corner and two comfortable looking leather chairs faced it. He sat in one and gestured for her to sit in the other.
“So, tell me all about yourself,” he said, once she was seated and had her notebook on her lap.
She smiled. “What do you want to know? I’m here to talk about you.”
“Whatever you care to share. I like to get to know people that I’ll be working with.”
“All right. Well, I grew up here, went to Boston College and got a job at Boston Style magazine after gradation. I’ve worked there ever since.” She paused and then admitted, “Well, until recently. I’m not on staff there anymore, just freelancing.”
He nodded. “I thought I read somewhere that the magazine was bought by a big corporation based out of New York.” She could see sympathy in his eyes.
“Yes, so I’m shifting into doing freelance work and hoping to stay on Nantucket at least through the Winter. Maybe longer if I can find enough work. I do love it here,” she added.
“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve been to,” Philippe said. “I knew, the first time I visited, over ten years ago, that I’d want to buy a home here.” He stared out the window and looked lost in thought. They were both quiet for a moment. Kate decided it was time to get started with her first questions.
“How did you first become involved with the film festival? Oh, and do you mind if I record our conversation?”
He shook his head. “No, of course I don’t mind. I was invited to participate when my first book was made into a film. That was quite a year. I’ve been involved with creating film or TV projects ever since.”
Kate remembered that book. Lucky Girl was an edge of the seat psychological thriller that had won Oscars for best picture, screenplay adaptation, which Philippe had also written, and for best actress. Which was how he’d met his now ex-wife, Laura Smith.
“Do you have to travel a lot?” she asked.
He ran his hand through his wavy hair and then he leaned forward. She tried not to notice how green his eyes were as he spoke. “Yes and no. I’m often here for months at a time, when I’m writing something new. But then, I might travel for several months, usually to LA where most of the shows are filmed. That’s a lot of fun though.” His face lit up, and she asked him to explain what he meant.
“Well, writing a book is great, you’re in charge and it’s totally your vision. Having that turned into a film is fantastic, but you have to be okay with your story changing and letting other people mold it to their vision.” He paused before adding, The writer is less important in film. But television, well, that’s where all the power is for a writer.”
Kate leaned forward, intrigued. “How is it different?” She didn’t have any idea how the writer’s role varied between the two mediums.
“Well, with TV, when it’s my story being produced and I’m the show runner, I’m involved in just about everything except directing. For example, I happened to casually mention that I’d love to cast someone like Michael C. Hall, the actor that played Dexter.” He paused and Kate nodded. She’d loved the show Dexter about the serial killer that only killed people that deserved to die.
“Well, they made it happen, and cast him for the lead. They’ve pretty much given me anything I’ve asked for, so far.” He grinned and his expression reminded Kate of a mischievous teenage boy. “The money is also a lot better than writing books. I get a nice piece of the profits.”
Kate glanced around the room and took in the luxurious leather and quality furnishings. Philippe was doing very well for himself.
“That’s interesting. I can see why you’d prefer it.” Kate was quiet for a moment, and then found herself saying, “I was thinking that I might try to write a book too someday, maybe while I’m here this winter.” She felt a bit silly admitting it as she was such a beginner compared to him.
But he seemed enthusiastic about the idea. “Oh, you should. You obviously can write. What genre are you thinking of?”
“Mystery. I’ve always enjoyed puzzle stories, and investigations.”
He looked pleased with her answer. “Well, if you write it, I’d be happy to read for you and offer suggestions. I don’t often do that. Only when I have a good feeling about someone, and I already know I like your writing.”
“You’re read some of my work?” Kate was both surprised and flattered.
“Yes. When I got your initial email, I searched online and read several of your features. I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you otherwise.”
She nodded. It made sense that he would have checked her out ahead of time.
“Oh, well, thank you. So, tell me more about your involvement with the film festival.”
They chatted for another half hour as Philippe told her all about his early days and how he was involved currently, which was mostly as a host for some of the screenings, since in recent years he’d been doing more television than film work.
“It’s more a celebration of the medium than anything else, and a chance for some local folks to get noticed. It also brings people to the island which is always good for the economy.” He smiled again, and she couldn’t help thinking that he looked more like a movie star himself than a writer. He had deep dimples that appeared when he smiled along with laugh lines that only made him more attractive.
“It seems like more and more celebrities come for the festival every year,” she commented.
He nodded. “It’s amazing how many of the LA folks look forward to it. Nantucket is exotic to them and a breath of fresh air.”
She closed her notebook. They’d covered everything she wanted to ask.
“Well, I think I have everything I need. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”
Philippe thought for a moment. “I can’t think of anything. Though I do have a question or two.” He smiled slowly and held her gaze. Kate suddenly felt her pulse quicken and glanced around the room until her eyes fell on the large clock. It was definitely time to go. She took a breath.
“Sure, what would you like to know?”
“How do you feel about lobster ravioli?”
She didn’t make the connection, at first. “I like it.”
“Good. I’m having a small gathering tonight. Why don’t you join us? The director, the producer and a few other execs from my show will be here. You might find it adds some interesting color for your story.”
The invitation both intimidated and intrigued her equally. She knew that it was a huge opportunity.
“I’d love to. Thank you.”
“Fantastic, I’ll see you back here at seven then.”
“My jet-setting daughter,” Lisa teased Kate as they sat in the kitchen drinking coffee while Kate told her all about her meeting with Philippe Gaston.
“I’m excited to go of course, but a little terrified too. What will I talk to these people about? And what will I wear?”
Lisa chuckled. “They’re just people, honey. And you’re a reporter, just ask them questions.”
Kate nodded. “You’re right, of course. But there’s still the matter of what to wear.”
Lisa thought for a moment. “Do you have a simple black cocktail dress? You can’t go wrong with basic black.”
Kate relaxed a bit. “I do. I’ll wear that.”
Lisa took a sip of coffee and smiled. Her sensible older daughter was star-struck.
“What’s he like? Is he as handsome as he looks on his book cover?”
“No, he’s actually better looking if that’s possible, and charismatic. And he has that accent. Fortunately, I’m immune to that kind of charm.”
Lisa raised
her eyebrows and Kate laughed. “He’s interesting to talk to though and seems really nice. A good person to get to know.”
“I asked around. Paige says his divorce was final a few months ago, and no one has seen him around town with anyone else. So, he seems available.”
“Mom, I’m sure he wouldn’t be interested! And I’m not looking, anyway. It’s way too soon after Dylan.” Her eyes looked pained and Lisa knew her daughter was still hurting, even though she put on a brave face.
“I’m just teasing you. Go and have fun. At least you know the food will be good. I’ve had Gary’s lobster raviolis and they’re delicious.”
Chapter 6
Kate returned to Philippe’s house at ten past seven. There was a valet out front, and she shivered as she stepped out of her car and handed the young man her keys. The wind had picked up, and the air was cold. She pulled her long coat more tightly around her as she walked toward the front door.
This time when she knocked, the door was opened by Philippe himself, who welcomed her warmly.
“Thank you for coming. Come on in. You can hang your coat here.” He indicated a closet to the left as they stepped inside. She slid her coat off and felt grateful that her black dress had long sleeves. It was warm, and the cut was elegant with a simple boat neck. At her waist it fell into a fuller skirt in a shimmery fabric that fell just below her knees. It was a pretty dress, and one that she felt comfortable in.
“You look lovely,” Philippe said as he hung her coat in the closet and then led her into the main room where about a dozen people, mostly men and one older woman, were chatting and drinking cocktails while a young waitress circled the room, passing out appetizers. Kate was surprised to see a few familiar faces too. Richard Goodwin, who ran the local theater was there, and also Jack Trattel, which was interesting.
“What are you drinking?” Philippe asked as the server came toward them.
“I’d love a glass of wine, Chardonnay if you have it.”
The Nantucket Inn Page 6
