“You know, my assistant—can you believe I have an assistant?—said the same thing today, right before I went in. It reminded me of you. I think that’s why I did so well.”
“So what next?” she asked, and her voice sounded genuinely happy.
“I go back tomorrow,” he said. “My notes say to bring a bathing suit and running shoes.”
“Well, we know how you look in both of those.” She purred, and he laughed, the full-on belly laugh he couldn’t contain when it came to Sophie.
“OK, OK. I’m trying not to be too hopeful, but Soph, this could be huge.” His throat closed, and Mont shook his head.
“I know,” she said. “Don’t think about that. Just focus on doing what you need to do.”
“I miss you,” he said. “I wish you could’ve come with me.” He imagined her there with him, in his hotel room. He shut that line of thought down quickly.
“Me too.” She genuinely sounded like she would have. He’d never asked her if she’d leave Redwood Bay—they weren’t quite that serious yet—and besides, he knew how tied she was to her taco stand.
Mont cleared his throat. “So what have you been up to? Busy weekend?”
“Oh my word! You would not believe how many people are here for Labor Day. Polly has flowers everywhere; Lucy’s going nuts with customers day and night. Mike can’t keep enough jet skis in stock for all the tourists. But the big news is that Blaine finally went back to see Lucy.” Her voice dropped with every word she said, and Mont suspected Blaine was somewhere nearby.
“He did?” Mont asked. Sophie had told him some of the drama between Lucy and Blaine, including that the only reason she’d first agreed to go out with him was because of them.
“Yes,” Sophie said. “Blaine’s asked her to marry him four times! Can you believe that? He’s been all depressed, so we went to the diner for breakfast today, and Lucy practically started crying when she saw him. She—” Scuffling came through the line, followed by a distant “Hey!” from Sophie.
“Is this Mont?” a male voice asked.
“Blaine,” Mont said. “Congratulations with Lucy. I don’t know the whole story, obviously, but yeah. You thinking about asking her a fifth time?”
Blaine grunted. “We’re taking it slow. She agreed to go out with me. Next-freaking-weekend. Real slow.”
“I’d wait for her to ask you,” Mont said, which caused Blaine to chuckle. “I can give you some tips on how to increase your patience. Ever thought of doing balloon artistry?”
“I’d love to know how you’ve managed this summer. OK, your girlfriend is practically clawing my arm off to get the phone back.” More scuffling came through the line, along with a very loud “Simmer!” from Blaine.
“Sorry about that,” Sophie said.
“It’s fine,” Mont said, his heart bobbing in his throat. “Girlfriend?”
She laughed, but it was the nervous kind. “You know how Blaine is. Needs a label for everything.”
“Did he give you that label, or did you tell him that we were…. I mean, you’re…. Well, what did you tell him, exactly?”
“I told him nothing.” She sniffed. “He has a way of knowing things I don’t say.”
“So he thinks you’re my girlfriend.”
“Do you have a problem with him thinking that?”
“No,” Mont said quickly. “Do you have a problem with being that?”
“No,” she answered just as quickly. “I-I, well, I just think we need to work some things out before we make it all official and stuff.”
Mont knew what things, and he wished there weren’t quite so many. “When I get back, we’ll work everything out,” he promised.
“I’m counting on it,” Sophie said, that sexy purr back in her tone. Mont wondered how he had managed to wait so long to be with her. He cursed the fact that he was so far away, both emotionally and physically.
By the end of the next day, Mont’s fingernails had been chewed to bits. He hadn’t been able to eat all day, though the green room was stocked with the finest meats and cheeses Europe had to offer.
He’d made the top five by ten a.m., his Speedo launching him into the next round. The top three by noon. He and the other two men—who looked remarkably similar to him, he might add—waited in the green room for the only list an actor wanted to see his name on.
The final casting list. If Mont found his name on that list, he’d, well, he didn’t know what he’d do, because he’d never auditioned for a role of this magnitude before.
“The list’s up!” came the cry. Becky smiled at him reassuringly and gave him a double thumbs-up. He followed the others to the director’s chair. The producer chatted quietly with the director, and the cast of hopefuls lingered nearby. Mont’s potential role of Viktor Romanoff wasn’t the only one being cast this weekend, so dozens of people remained in the studio.
The director began by thanking everyone for staying for two full days, for their dedication. He then began reading the names of the roles and the person who’d earned it.
“Dmitri Saratov, Henry Longshore.”
There was a pause while several people clapped. The actor who’d won the part shook hands with the man standing next to him.
“Natasha Bowles, Sienna Young.”
The young woman who’d landed the role nodded, a huge smile on her face. Mont clapped with the rest of the actors.
“Viktor Romanoff…”
Mont held his breath. Closed his eyes. Pictured Sophie’s face. Thought of his father.
“Montgomery Winters.”
He opened his eyes to blinding lights. Deafening applause. He couldn’t believe it. The room spun, turning white on the edges. He blinked, and it cleared. The clapping dulled as the director read another character and another actor.
Mont just stared, sure he hadn’t heard right. He couldn’t believe he’d won the role.
Becky stepped next to him. “I’m always right, you know. I’ve been assisting this director for ten years, and I can always predict who he’s going to pick.” She patted his forearm. “Congratulations, Mr. Romanoff.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Sophie, I….” Jared trailed off, and Sophie didn’t know what she wanted him to say anyway. Their first conversation had been stilted, but joyful. This second one, though, had been seven shades of awkward.
Because Sophie’s first question had been, “Why did you ignore me? I mean, I get why you left town and cut out Dad. But….” She’d let her words hang there the same way Jared was letting his.
“It was just too hard,” he said. “I wanted to call you a million times, especially after Dad died.”
But he hadn’t, and now he couldn’t explain why.
“It’s OK,” she said, though her voice didn’t sound like it was. “Tell me about Denver.”
On safer ground, Jared was able to string several sentences together about his job, his girlfriend, a couple of dogs. The words weren’t hollow, but Sophie found herself wishing they weren’t such surface facts.
“Maybe I can come visit once I close the taco stand,” she said when he finished.
“I’d like that, Soph,” Jared said, genuine warmth in his tone.
She said her good-byes and sighed when the call ended. Things with Jared weren’t perfect, and they wouldn’t be for a while. But knowing where he was and being able to talk to him was a start. A good one.
A small smile crossed Sophie’s face as she texted Polly. Found my brother! I’m going to go visit him in Denver when the summer season is over.
Instead of texting, Polly called.
“Wow, Pols,” Sophie said when she answered. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“You found Jared?”
“Well, Mont did.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Polly’s suggestive tone would’ve come through in a text. Sophie refrained from rolling her eyes as she endured yet another round of questioning from Polly about Mont.
She quickly made her excuses so sh
e could hang up. She loved Polly, but she was definitely easier to handle via text message.
The next morning, Sophie’s phone rang as she got out of the shower. She hurried to answer it, especially when she saw Mont’s name on the caller ID. But she got to it too late. She held it for a moment, sending a prayer into the skies. For what, she wasn’t sure. That he hadn’t gotten the part and she could console him? That he had gotten the role so he could realize his dreams?
Her phone rang again and she swiped the call open. “Tell me you got it.”
“I got it!” His joyful laughter followed, and Sophie sank onto her bed. She couldn’t help smiling, but she couldn’t stand up either.
“I knew you’d get it,” she told him.
He gushed about landing the role, and his enthusiasm seeped into her, half a world away.
“So what next?” she asked when he’d finished recounting the day.
“I need to go to LA for a few days,” he said. “My agent needs to go over the contracts and everything.”
“A few days. No problem.” She’d already taken a bit of a financial hit that summer by paying Mont so much. She needed to stay open during dinner to have enough income, but she had moved Jenna to the dinner shift. On Tuesday, she was starting at Lucy’s during lunch. Technically, she didn’t need Mont to come back at all—at least not to keep The Sandy Tortilla open.
She definitely needed him to come back for her. The way her heart was flopping around like a trout on land proved that.
“Soph, I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d be back on Monday, but it’s probably going to be another week.” He sounded sorry, too. It might have been easier if he didn’t.
Sophie nodded, but of course Mont couldn’t see that. She couldn’t quite get her voice to work.
“Soph?”
“I’m here. I’m just so happy for you I don’t know what to say.” And she was. She genuinely was. This was a big role. The biggest. She knew he needed this—more than he needed her.
“They’re going to do a big press release to reveal the cast, but not until November. So you can’t really tell anyone I got the role. I wasn’t supposed to even tell you.”
“Of course.” Despite the unease inside, she felt special that he’d told her. At the same time, she certainly didn’t want to tell anyone. Lucy and Polly would both look at her with sad eyes, and say, “What are you going to do now?”
Blaine would ask if she’d give up the taco stand to be with Mont, then pierce her with a glare when she said she didn’t know.
Melissa and Yuri would invite her to Sunday brunch to console her, then spread gossip through the mill that a tourist had broken her heart. Then her mother would call…. No, Sophie wouldn’t tell anyone even if she could.
She’d plan to be on vacation in November when the news came out. With her phone off. Or conveniently at the bottom of the ocean.
“I gotta go,” Mont said. “Sorry. I’ll call you later, OK?”
“OK,” she said, but Mont was already gone. She tossed the phone on the bed and stared at it. He hadn’t even asked about Jared.
She’d wanted to text Mont immediately and tell him all about the phone calls, thank him profusely for finding her brother, maybe promise him that when he returned to Redwood Bay she’d be ready to say yes to whatever he wanted.
She hadn’t texted though. It was the middle of the night in Spain, and he had a second day of auditioning looming. So she’d kept her news to herself. And now his news was so big there wasn’t room for hers.
With this role, if she wanted to be with Mont, she’d have to give up The Sandy Tortilla. She’d been thinking about Lucy’s words non-stop, but she still hadn’t been able to envision her life without her taco stand in it. She’d worked too hard for too long to give her father the satisfaction of quitting now.
Maybe it’s time to let go.
Lucy had also said that. Sophie sighed, pocketed her phone and went to The Sandy Tortilla—the one thing that never changed, never expected her to be more than she already was.
Never left.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mont spotted Lars through the crowd at the airport. It helped that his agent stood over six feet tall and never went anywhere without his phone glued to his face.
Mont hadn’t been able to stop smiling since Saturday night when the director called his name. He’d spent a day in Spain, and flown home on Labor Day. Lars never took a day off, and he’d said he’d pick up Mont and “discuss business.”
“There’s the man!” Lars held his phone out as he clapped Mont on the back. “You did it!” He said good-bye to whoever was on the phone and herded Mont toward the exit. “I’ve got the contracts, and everything looks pretty great. It’s a one-film role, you know, because James Bond always defeats his enemy. But the director loved you! ‘Golden,’ he called you. I don’t know what you’ve been doing in Redwood Bay, but I’d keep it up if I were you.” He ushered Mont into a taxi and slid in behind him. “Except for living there, of course. I need you down here for easy access. Plus, there’s still the fireman hero film, and they said they’re willing to work around your filming schedule for Double-Oh-Seven.”
Mont nodded, but couldn’t get in a word before Lars started talking again. He had to return to Redwood Bay, at least for a couple of weeks. Lars wouldn’t like it, and Mont didn’t contradict him. But he’d have to go back whether Lars liked it or not.
He wanted to stay with Sophie, with The Sandy Tortilla. He knew she wouldn’t be able to pay him as much as she had forever, but if they were together….
Lars said something about three more directors inquiring after his filming schedule, derailing Mont’s thoughts. Which was probably a good thing. Making plans and thinking too much had never really worked out for him. He’d take things one day at a time.
He’d already noticed a cool vibe from Sophie. She hadn’t answered his calls, opting instead to respond via text. She said she was busy, and with the holiday weekend and big town celebration, she probably was. Still, he suspected she was avoiding him. He was determined to get back to Redwood Bay sooner rather than later.
“So he wants you on set Thursday.”
Mont finally focused his full attention on Lars. “I’m sorry, what?”
Lars barely seemed to notice Mont’s reaction. “Louis Hawthorne wants you on set Thursday.” When he met Mont’s eye, he added, “For the audition.”
“Hm, which one is that?”
“I don’t have the preparation packet yet. It’s for a lead role in one of those drug-bust type films.”
Mont made a face, but Lars lifted his hand. “Don’t turn your nose up at an audition. You never know who’ll be there and see you.”
Lars had been saying that since the day Mont signed with him. “I can’t shoot three films in a year,” he said.
“Maybe you can,” Lars said. “You’ve never tried.”
Mont shook his head. “No, I can’t. I can’t work eighteen hours a day, seven days a week.” He’d definitely be driven to drink if he tried that.
“People do,” Lars said.
Mont looked out his window, his thoughts drifting to his father. Maybe he should take as many jobs as possible, build up the savings his dad would surely need for years of medical care. But when would he spend time with Sophie?
He cursed the timing of this role, these auditions, meeting Sophie. Driving through the busy streets of LA, listening to Lars talk and talk, Mont admitted something he’d been skirting around for a few days.
He and Sophie couldn’t be together, not with him in LA—and possibly all over the world—and her in Redwood Bay with her taco stand.
“Can you do the audition on Thursday or not?” Lars asked.
“Yes,” Mont said. “But I need to get back up to Redwood Bay to get my car and clean out my studio.”
Lars frowned. “I can send Nichole.”
His assistant. Mont was sure she’d just love to go to some no-name town on the coast and go thro
ugh his bachelor apartment. Strangely, that’s exactly what he wanted to do. He loved the charm of the small town. He adored the beach there, the lighthouse. He loved going to Lucy’s, stopping by the hardware store and chatting with Taylor, and even talking to Blaine. He loved the simplicity of life in Redwood Bay.
“I need to go myself,” he said. “I have some loose ends to tie up.”
Lars consulted his phone. “Well, the audition is in two days. Can you tie things up that fast? Or can you wait until next Monday? Then you could do this audition for Louis, and the fireman one on Saturday.” He raised his eyebrows.
Mont had already told Sophie he wouldn’t be back until next week, so he agreed to stay until Monday before focusing his attention back out the window.
He couldn’t imagine walking away from acting now. But he couldn’t imagine leaving Sophie in Redwood Bay without really giving himself a chance to find out if they could make things work.
Sighing, he followed Lars out of the car and into the elevator so he could go over the contracts for his first action film.
By the time he boarded the plane to return to Redwood Bay, Mont hadn’t heard back about the audition from Thursday. He’d felt good about it and he’d studied the provided material, but he felt like he towered over the other actors there. He wouldn’t be surprised if Lars got a call from Louis that simply said, “He’s too tall.”
But working with Louis Hawthorne would be a dream come true. Mont could only fantasize about the things he could learn from such a legendary director.
His audition on Saturday had also gone well, and he’d been called back for a second round on Sunday. He was in the running for the part, along with two other men. Lars had forwarded a message that said they’d know the results by the end of the week.
Mont wasn’t sure if he’d get either part, but it didn’t matter. Winning the role of Viktor had changed everything.
And not just with his acting career.
His weekly phone call with his mom had been full of laughter and squealing. Both of his parents had been proud of him, and just like he knew she would, his mom cried. “You’ve done it, Francis,” she said through her tears. “You’ve made your dreams come true.”
Until Summer Ends Page 18
