by Paige Rion
Does he have to look at her like that? Andi gripped the sides of the chair to keep from squirming under his unrelenting gaze. “They’re not.”
“Okay. Back to the press. In case my line of questioning didn’t make me clear earlier, if you work for me, you can’t speak to anyone in the media about this job. Ever. I don’t care if it’s the Callaway Cove Tribune or another equally small publication. And when it comes to me and whatever is going on, you have no opinion. If they ask you about the situation or for an interview—” he waved his hand “—unless I say otherwise, you have nothing to say.”
Andi’s face flamed, and she knew the shade of red would rival that of a vine-ripened tomato. She hated the way her emotions showed so easily, but she also didn’t like feeling that she was being reprimanded, especially when she hadn’t done anything. And by someone who had yet to even give her a job.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep the irritation from her voice. “I’ll do whatever is asked in that regard. If I have the job.”
“I sense hostility. Is there some part of what I said that offends you? Because if there is, please do tell. Now would be the time to share your feelings on the matter, instead of after I’ve hired you.”
She clenched her fists, willing herself to keep her mouth shut. But she couldn’t. Part of her wondered if he’d goaded her on purpose. “There’s no problem with anything you said, per se. But the way I see it, you’re a public figure. If you’re going to be a writer and you want to achieve the level of success you’ve had, you need to put yourself out there. You can’t expect people to just go away. You’re lucky people care so much.”
Whether she was talking about the media and his massive fan base or herself, she wasn’t sure.
“Lucky?” Ford’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Yes. They’re interested because they love your work. You’ve sold billions of copies of your books, made billions of dollars from their movies. People aren’t going to just bug off now because you tell them to. They want to know you. They want to know the man behind the pen and paper. And how can you expect them not to? I just think it’s a bit hypocritical to want your fans to buy all your books, to be invested in you as a writer, but then expect them to back off when you feel it’s gotten too personal. This is the social media era. Everything’s personal.”
“I suppose you would know. Yes, I should listen to you.” His eyes flamed, burning embers of gold and brown. “She, the college student, who knows nothing about what it’s like to be successful, what it’s like to put yourself out there and have your entire life, everything you’ve worked so hard to put away, thrown in your face.”
Andi’s eyes widened. Warning bells flashed in her head at the direction the interview had taken. Were they arguing? What happened to normal interviews with, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” That question she knew the answer to, had been prepared for.
“Okay,” she said, taking her time. “I get it, but you can’t expect the public only to follow what you carefully filter and put out there. It doesn’t work that way, at least not for long.”
Ford smacked the palm of his hand over his desk, making Andi jump. “I’m not an actor. I’m not some damned celebrity putting myself behind the camera. I write words. I hide behind a computer, a notebook. That’s what authors do. We create worlds and lives with a pen and paper. We’re not meant to be in the spotlight. Our books, our stories are.”
“Yes, maybe so, but look at James Frey. When everyone discovered over half his memoir was fabricated, the media was all over it. The world was pissed because they felt duped. The same is going to happen here, except you’re even bigger than he ever was, and it’s the opposite, which means people are going to love you even more, not hate you. I’m sorry, but people are going to want answers. They’re going to want to know more about this character they now know isn’t fictional, after all.”
He laughed through tight lips, a bitter sound. “The media is like a pack of wolves and everyone just wants something to gossip about. It’s all about a juicy story, not the love of fans.”
The way he said it, the bitterness edged with an unreachable sadness in his voice, stopped her short. She couldn’t argue with him, not only because he was partially right, but because, now, when she looked into his eyes, she saw just how affected he really was.
He glanced behind her at the wall, then down at his desk. “This interview is over. I need an hour and then I’ll decide who has the job. You’ll get a call either way. Keep your phone on. I won’t leave a message.”
Andi swallowed. That was it? That was her interview? Shit.
“Yes, sir.”
He rolled his eyes. “No need to be so formal.”
“Oh, I, uh…” Andi closed her mouth and he chuckled.
Standing, she turned and left his office before she could make a bigger fool out of herself. She shut the door behind her and allowed herself a deep breath.
She placed a hand to her head. Could that have gone any worse? Had she lost all sense? You never argue with a potential employer, let alone one who has the power to make all your dreams come true. That was common sense. Interview 101. How could she have screwed up so badly?
She opened her eyes to the sight of his assistant, who stood ramrod straight, arms crossed, smirking. “Didn’t go well, I take it?”
With a grimace, Andi pushed away from the door. Time to go wait by the phone…
CHAPTER THREE
Andi took another swig of her beer and glanced around the room. The Oasis never failed to fill its bar stools with patrons, and that afternoon was no exception. In a small town like Callaway Cove, there was little competition for hot spots and local hangouts, but The “O,” as locals called it, was one of the few.
Despite the sunlight outside, the bar’s interior remained in near darkness, with the only light coming from the neon signs touting name brands of alcohol and pendant lamps above the bar and tables. A huge wooden dance floor sat catty-corner to the bar, next to an old-fashioned jukebox. During the summer months, when tourists flocked to the resort area of the lake, live bands replaced the clunky machine, drawing huge crowds, especially on the weekends, when the place became standing room only.
Rachel and Carma emerged from the restroom and came back to the table. Andi eyed the three full glasses on it and said, “Maybe we shouldn’t be drinking. What if he calls one of us back into the office?”
Rachel smirked and popped a piece of stale popcorn into her mouth. “Well, from the sounds of it, I don’t think you need to worry.”
Andi banged her head on the table. “I screwed up. Didn’t I?”
Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut about her disastrous interview, but she couldn’t. The second she stepped out of Ford Delaney’s vacation home, Rachel and Carma, who had been waiting in the parking lot, pounced, demanding to know everything.
They were her best friends. Why shouldn’t she tell them? Even if they were her competition.
“Um, you argued with him and basically told him he deserved everything he’s going through right now and to suck it up,” Rachel said.
Andi’s eyes widened. “Oh, God. I did. Didn’t I?”
Carma laughed. “Yep. Looks like I didn’t need you to drop out, after all. You flopped all on your own.”
“I just love him.” Andi plunked her head in her hands.
“Join the club,” Rachel said.
Andi lifted her head. “Not like that. His books are incredible, and since writing is who I am, I’m infatuated, envious, inspired…”
“Sounds boring.” Rachel snorted.
Andi ignored her. “I just want my novels to make you feel the way his do. I just wanted my shot at this, you know? And then I got in there, and boom! My mouth exploded interview vomit all over his office.” Andi sat for a second, staring into her now half empty pint. “Wait a minute.” She narrowed her eyes at Rachel.
They had been best friends from the time they could walk, and about the t
ime Rachel sprouted boobs and started wearing makeup, her pursuit of the right boy had begun. Her boy-crazy ways had never bothered her before. Until now.
“Is that why you want this job?”
Rachel tipped her head back, her chin in the air. “I see nothing wrong with my motives.”
“I could’ve told ya,” Carma muttered.
Andi gaped. “You want the job because you want to hook up with him? Are you kidding me?”
Rachel shimmied, shaking her bosom and looking characteristically unapologetic. “You don’t think I wore this dress for nothing, do you?” She raised her glass to her lips. “Oh, and thanks for wearing that hideous outfit. I see another year of college hasn’t changed your fashion sense any. Your old, moth-eaten ensembles are better than that get-up.” She snorted. “It’s a good thing you covered up, though. I would’ve worried if he had a choice between my rack and yours. Those things are still ridiculous.”
Carma laughed as Andi glanced down at her conservative blouse and skirt. Her mouth flattened into a thin line. “This blouse is vintage, and the skirt was the only dressy thing I could find in the five minutes I had to get ready. I didn’t have time to buy a suit or rummage through my luggage for something better.”
“Vintage is just code for really old,” Rachel snickered.
Andi brushed her dark bangs out of her face. “Fine, but what’s so wrong with a khaki skirt?”
“What’s not wrong with this?” Rolling her eyes, Rachel poked at Andi’s hemline. “It’s the cut. It’s tragic. It needs to be four inches higher, and the material is all stiff and funky.”
“Well, even if I’d had time to go shopping and get something, I still wouldn’t have gone to the interview dressed like that.” She gestured at Rachel’s cleavage.
“Whatever.” Rachel flipped her platinum locks over her shoulder. “I’m sick of all the men in this town. They’re boring and ordinary.”
Carma coughed. “And their pockets aren’t deep enough.”
“Yeah. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to marry well. It’s not like it used to be around here. My mother had it easy. In her time, finding a good man in this town wasn’t nearly as difficult.”
Andi pretended to gag. “Your attitude is ancient. What is this, the fifties? Last I checked, we were in the twenty-first century.”
Rachel sneered. “Spoken from the girl who has clothes older than our mothers. Anyway, as I was saying, my mom scored the most eligible bachelor. And that’s precisely what I plan to do. The bonus is that he’ll get me out of here and take me with him to New York. So the way I see it, you both should back off. Carma, you have no interest in men, and Andi, aren’t you still dating that gorgeous hunk of man who visited over Christmas?”
“Yes, I am. And his name is Peter.”
Rachel blinked. “And?”
“And what?” Andi asked.
“Details,” Rachel said.
“I don’t know. Things are going great. We’ve been together for just under two years now, and I think we make a good fit. We complement each other.”
Rachel and Carma exchanged looks.
“What?” Andi asked.
Rachel raised a brow at Andi. “You complement each other? What are you? Peanut butter and jelly?”
“No. I just … As you know, Peter’s a professor, so he’s really into academics, and I just want to write. He helps keep me grounded, reminds me to stay in the here and now and worry about school.”
Rachel screwed up her face. “Sounds so sexy. And super romantic.”
Andi glared at her. “He’s plenty romantic. He’s older than me, which I like because I can’t stand immature boys, which half of the college students my age are. They only care about partying and have absolutely no ambition. I’ve never been like that. And he really cares about me. Things with him are just…” She shrugged. “…easy.”
“Mm-hmm,” Rachel murmured, bringing her glass to her lips.
Carma sighed and rested the side of her head in her hands. “Andi, you’ve got a great boyfriend, you go to a great school, plus you’re talented. It’s only a matter of time before you’re successful. And Rachel, you usually get the men you want. You can have anyone in town, and I’m sure your dad could hook you up with some politician or something. Neither of you guys need this job like I do. Seriously, you guys have nothing on my reasons.”
“What reasons?” Rachel scoffed. “That you want away from your stepfather? That you hate Callaway Cove and want out? Those are the worst reasons I’ve ever heard.”
Carma shook her head. “You don’t understand—”
“So help us.” Andi placed a hand over Carma’s. “You’re asking me to give up on the one thing that could propel me toward my dreams. Rachel, she’s always been selfish.” Rachel smacked her and chuckled. “But why you? For years, you’ve had this quiet loathing for your stepfather that neither Rachel or I understand, along with this desperate need to get away from here, but you never really talk about it. And anytime we ask for more, you shut down. But maybe it’s time you explain it to us so we get it. Why do you want to get out so bad? Is it really just because you hate him and Callaway Cove?”
“I … This is my best shot to get out and stay out. I can’t risk leaving and being forced to come back again. Not like last time. I’d rather starve on the streets.”
Andi leaned back and rubbed her eyes. Trying to crack Carma was impossible. What was she hiding? There had to be something.
While she understood her desire to get out—small-town life wasn’t for everyone—her obsession with leaving had never made sense. Her life seemed fine from a distance. As a single mom, Carma’s mother had struggled when Carma was young, taking odd jobs, sometimes working several at once, just to make ends meet. When a fire forced them out of their trailer, her mother met the local fire chief, whom she later married. Since they’d wed, Carma’s mother had virtually stopped working and lived a much easier life. Maybe they didn’t have the money Rachel’s family did or the history of Andi’s, but they did fine for themselves.
Andi shook her head. “Kent’s been really good to your mom. Is there something going on with her that we don’t know about? I don’t get it.”
“There’s something… I—” Carma’s phone rang. She paused and glanced at the screen and drew in a breath. “Oh. Hold on.”
Rachel threw up her hands as Carma answered the phone, whatever she was going to tell them forgotten. “You may as well forget it. Whatever she’s hiding, she’ll never share.”
Andi watched Carma as she spoke. Rachel was probably right. Carma had never been the type to share her feelings.
When Carma hung up, she smiled. “You’ll never believe this. I—”
Rachel’s phone buzzed on the table next to her. “Hold that thought,” she said. Picking it up, she answered and her eyes lit up as the person on the other line spoke. It’s him, she mouthed.
Andi shot up in her seat, her nerves on edge. No, she can’t have gotten the job. Rachel hung up and began to tell them who’d called when Andi’s phone rang.
Groaning, Andi picked it up. “What the hell is going on?”
She answered it and froze at the gravelly sound of Ford’s voice. Her mind spun as he spoke. “It’s between you and two others. You will have a tryout of sorts. Your job is to take me to the most interesting place in town without anyone recognizing me. Figure it out and pick me up tonight at ten p.m.”
The line went dead, and all Andi could do was stare at her phone, until she remembered Rachel and Carma.
She glanced up at them. “Was it...?”
Both women nodded.
Holy shit. “Looks like the competition isn’t over. We’ve got auditions,” she said. Then, with a smile, all three girls squealed.
Andi picked up her glass and raised it in the air in front of her friends. Rachel and Carma followed suit. “To us. The luckiest damn women in all of Callaway Cove.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Andi pulled up to the
farmhouse that had been in her family for generations. It still featured the original wood siding and scrollwork and boasted several small outbuildings, including a mill.
Andi smiled as she got out of her car and made her way up the sprawling porch. Certain things had been modernized and replaced—windows, the roof, and the plumbing—but overall, the home had maintained its charm. So many happy memories were associated with the place: hanging stockings on the living room mantel, decorating Christmas trees in front of the huge bay window, sliding down the railing of the staircase, sneaking out of her room and fleeing to the cove with Rachel and Carma…
She opened the screen door and stepped inside. Her mother stood at the stove, stirring something in a huge pot. The air held the scent of something sweet.
“How’d it go?” She smiled.
Andi gave her a kiss on the cheek, then crossed the room and plunked herself down at the table. On the drive home, the excitement of hanging out with her friends had waned, only to be replaced with dread.
“You’ll never believe this. I have the chance of a lifetime with this job, right? I’m talking huge. And guess what?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I have to compete for it against my best friends.”
Her mother continued to stir whatever was in the pot. “Wow. That is a coincidence, but it’s not much of a surprise. We live in a small town. Did you really think people weren’t going to jump at the opportunity? If you ask me, though, it’s pretty impressive that the three of you are even in the running.”
“I have to get this job. Rachel worries me, though. She’s sneaky.”
Her mother stopped stirring a moment and turned to Andi, eyeing her with a raised brow. Andi knew her mother as well as she knew herself, and she waited for her to vocalize her thoughts.
“Just don’t let this competition come between you. Friends last forever, jobs don’t.”
“Mom, we’re talking about a job working for Ford Delaney. This isn’t just any old office job.”
