Just a Summer Fling (4 page)

“Be careful with him,” Cal said quietly.

Josh almost laughed, although nothing was funny. “I’ll be as careful as he lets me be.” Then he turned and headed for the truck.

As he drove out of the driveway he used the Bluetooth phone to dial a familiar number. “Kevin? You want to work this afternoon?”

Kevin was Josh’s cousin, six years younger, full of good nature and absolutely without ambition. He worked when he felt like it or when he needed some cash. Or, sometimes, when Josh needed a favor. “I could,” he said now. “What’s the job?”

“Just spreading some mulch at the McArthurs’. They’re getting bitchy about how long I’m taking.”

“I could use your truck?”

“What’s wrong with yours?”

“It won’t start.”

Josh sighed. Kevin wasn’t exactly proactive about things. And he was annoying. But he was distracting Josh from other problems, at least. “Okay, but what’s wrong with it?
Why
won’t it start?”

“Cursed, I think.”

“Probably not.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re seriously just going to . . . what, leave it in the driveway? Not even try to figure out what’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a witch doctor handy.”

“Good thing it’s not really cursed, then.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Okay. Fine. You can use my truck. I’ll pick you up around noon and you can drop me at the Fergusons’.”

“And, just to be clear,” Kevin said, “this is because you’re busy, right? It’s got nothing to do with Jasmine McArthur shoving her hand down your pants the other night at the bar.”

Of course Kevin had heard about that. Jasmine hadn’t been subtle, and gossip spread fast in a small town. But Josh could honestly say, “No. It’s not because of that.”

“And it’s got nothing to do with you making out with Ashley Carlsen at the bar, and her staying with Jasmine McArthur? Scott Mason lost twenty bucks on that, you know. He bet you were going to take them both home for a three-way.”

“Scott Mason’s an idiot. But I hear he’s looking for work. You want me to call him for this afternoon, leave you a bit more time to find your witch doctor?”

“Well, I’d probably have to pay the witch doctor, so I’d better do some work.” Kevin paused long enough that Josh thought the conversation was mercifully over. But then Kevin said, “Hey, you know who won that twenty bucks from Scott?”

“I don’t know or care.”

“It was me. He called me, told me about it, and I bet him you wouldn’t do it. I bet him you’d pussy out.”

Yeah, the complexities of Josh’s life decisions simplified to “manning up” or “pussying out.” Kevin was not a fan of subtleties. “I’ll come by around noon. If you’re not ready, I’m calling Scott.”

“Fine, Captain Grumpy. I’ll be ready.”

Josh hung up the phone. His cousin was taking bets on his sex life. Was it that different from the games Jasmine and Ashley were playing?

Yeah, it was. Because Ashley had been in on the game and Josh hadn’t been. Josh wanted something real, something that wasn’t for public amusement. He wasn’t playing, not anymore. But no one else seemed to care about that distinction.

He turned the radio on and found a Springsteen song, then rolled his windows down and blasted the volume. He needed to stop being such a drama queen about it all. He’d made mistakes and he had to live with them. Life would go on, with or without work from Jasmine and her rich friends. He just needed to stop thinking about sparkling green eyes looking at him like he was something special, something real. The woman was an actress; it was an act.

He just needed to remember that.

Four

“I THINK I’M
going to stay up here a bit longer,” Ashley said into the phone. Her manager, Adam Wagner, was on the other end of the line, and she braced herself for his reaction.

“How much longer? Another week?”

“Longer than that. I found a place I can rent for the rest of the summer. Until mid-September, actually. I think I’m going to do it.”

“What? Why?” Adam sounded almost hurt, but he’d been managing her since she was a child and she was mostly immune to his theatrics. “Why would you do that? Is it about that nonsense with Derek? Because, no! You can’t hide away! You need to be out there, dating, partying, having lunch with handsome men in all the right places for the paparazzi to see you. You are
over
Derek Braxton, Ashley!”

“I
am
over him,” she said firmly. She’d been over him even before his oh-so-public affair with a costar. “But I think I’m over the rest of it, too. The partying and lunching and paparazzi. At least for a while. You know how long I’ve been in the
business, Adam. I love acting, I truly do. But I’m not getting the jobs I want, so there’s no need to come running back down for work. You can look for something for me starting in October, if you want. Find me a big paycheck or a promising indie or something. But not until October. I’m taking a vacation.”

“A three-month vacation?”

“Call it a sabbatical if it makes you feel better. I’m recharging. When I come back down I’ll be full of energy and ready to start auditioning for serious jobs. So you could spend some time setting that up. You know what I’m looking for. Real acting. Challenging roles. Directors and costars I can learn from. Find me something like that.”

“We’ve had this conversation before—” Adam started.

Ashley cut him off. “Yeah, we have. And I’ve listened to your advice, and I’ve decided that I don’t want to follow it. I
know
there’s more quick-and-easy money in the B-movie stuff. I
know
it’s easier to get those parts, and really hard to cross over to the top-quality projects.” How could she explain the yearning she had, the
need
to explore and push the boundaries? She’d tried before but she’d never been able to make Adam understand, and she had no new words to offer him this time. So she took a simpler approach. “I don’t need more money; I need a career I can be proud of.”

“Oh,
you
don’t need more money. That’s nice for
you
.”

Adam was paid a percentage of Ashley’s income, and they’d both known that was a factor in his reluctance to let her take a chance with her career, but this was the first time he’d ever acknowledged it out loud. Ashley wasn’t sure if she was relieved or apprehensive, but she managed to say, “I don’t need the money. I understand if you do. I’ve never asked you to make me your only client, and if you feel you need to diversify, I understand.” She’d be thrilled, really, but she didn’t think it was wise to be quite that honest. “But for me? I’m looking for a different type of role. Please do what you can to make that happen.”

Damn. She didn’t think she’d ever been that forceful with Adam. He’d been her manager for so long and the habits of deference she’d learned as a kid were hard to break. But since she was on a roll, she added, “And I’ll be up here until mid-September. You can call me if something huge happens, but otherwise please stick to e-mail. I’m trying to get away from it all, not bring it all with me.”

“I don’t think this is wise, Ashley.”

“I’m not too worried about being wise. But thanks for your concern. I’ll talk to you later.” And she hung up. She stared at the phone, waiting for it to ring, and she knew she’d used up all her resistance for the moment. If he called back and kept after her, she’d give in. So she switched off the phone. Then she stared at it. She didn’t think she’d ever willfully turned the thing off before.

It felt good to be free.

And it felt even better to stuff the last of her clothes into her smallest suitcase and head for the door. She was going to be free of Jasmine, too. Ever since that night in the bar, Jasmine had been different. Crabby, crusty, looking for flaws and weaknesses. She spent a lot more time laughing
at
Ashley than she did laughing with her. And David had flown back to the city midweek, so there was no need to stick around to develop that connection.

No, Ashley was leaving all that behind and starting something new. It was a bit strange that she seemed to want to start it up here in backwoods Vermont, but there was something about the place that called to her. As soon as she acknowledged that
,
of course, she was forced to spend a little time kicking the image of Josh Sullivan out of her head. Yeah, okay, there was something about him that called to her, too, but Vermont was a lot less likely to be a snotty jerk to her for no reason, so she was going to focus on the place rather than the man.

She hauled her luggage downstairs herself, even though
Jasmine had said she’d send someone up for it. The new rental car was waiting in the driveway, Ashley was packed and ready to go, and there was no way she was sitting around waiting for Jasmine to arrange cartage. No, Ashley was leaving on her own terms.

“Oh, I could have had someone do that,” Jasmine scolded gently as she saw Ashley descend the stairs. Most of the last round of guests was gone, but there was a newly arrived middle-aged couple from New York sitting in the den, watching Ashley struggle. The man stood to come and help her, but Jasmine waved a hand in his direction, telling him to sit down. “I have staff for this sort of thing! If she wants to do it herself, let her!” Ashley didn’t look in her direction but she could hear the eye roll in her tone. “But try not to scratch my walls, sweetie.”

The walls were solid wood and Ashley’s luggage was soft-sided. There was nothing at risk but Jasmine’s sense of control, and Ashley didn’t mind if that got a bit banged up.

“Thanks so much for having me,” she said when she got to the bottom of the stairs and set down her largest bag. “It really is a magical place!”

“I must say I’m a little surprised by your enthusiasm,” Jasmine said with a tight smile. “Most of my guests go home after their visit; they don’t generally move in a few doors down.”

Ashley tried to make her smile a bit more genuine, but it took all her acting skills to do it. “Well, I guess I fell in love.”

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “With
Vermont
? Sweetie, this place is . . . it’s a fun little make-believe place. Somewhere to pretend we’re pioneers or bush people or something. It’s not—” She stopped and her smile got a little more pointed and her eyes danced wickedly. “Unless you didn’t mean the place. But, no, surely you didn’t mean the
man
!”

“What? No, of course not! The place. The lake and the forest.” Ashley felt almost panicked. Obviously it was stupid to think about falling in love with Josh Sullivan. But it was
disconcerting to have Jasmine think of him as any part of the reason Ashley was staying in the area.

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Jasmine said. “I was worried there for a moment. I’ve got to tell you, sweetie, he was
not
too impressed when I told him about our little bet. So it’s just as well you aren’t pining over him!”

“When you . . . what? When you
told him
? Why would you do that?
When
did you do it?” Ashley made herself stop talking. The panic in her voice was too clear, and Jasmine was feeding on it like a bear gorging itself on honey.

“Oh, sweetie, was that meant to be a secret?” Jasmine’s voice was dripping with saccharine apology. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it would matter, and it was just so funny! I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“When did you tell him? Why? When?”

Jasmine shrugged. “That day he repaired the dock, I suppose. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter, does it? He’s just . . . he’s like Vermont, sweetie. He’s a fun little game, but he’s not real life. Is he?”

Ashley was pretty sure she was going to clock Jasmine the next time the word “sweetie” came out of the woman’s mouth. She could just imagine the way it would feel, her fist connecting with Jasmine’s fragile little jaw, rocking her damned head to the side. . . . “Of course it doesn’t matter,” Ashley said with a smile to match Jasmine’s. “I was just curious. And now I’m curious about my new place, so I’m going to head on over. Thanks so much for having me, and let’s get in touch as soon as we’re both in L.A.; I owe you a lunch, after all.”

“Of course you do,” Jasmine agreed. “I’ll be sure to collect.” Then she herded Ashley out the door, somehow making it seem as if she was being thrown out rather than leaving by choice at the prearranged time. Ashley just bit her lip and climbed into the car. She pointed it toward the road and made herself drive at a sedate speed rather than speeding away as if being chased by the hounds of hell.

When she hit the main road, she was tempted to just drive. Maybe she could find a good song and roll down the windows and just go. But she also wanted to see her new accommodations, and that urge won out over the other.

Her shoulders relaxed a little more with every turn the rental car took, and as she guided it into the long, tree-lined driveway that would lead her to the lake, she felt completely renewed.

She’d made the right choice. She pulled up in front of the sprawling log home she’d rented and let herself sit and stare for a moment. The dark green of the forest stretched as far as she could see in any direction. She knew her neighbors were actually fairly close on both sides, but she couldn’t see them, so she could pretend they didn’t exist. There was nothing but her and the forest and the lake.
This
was what she’d been craving at the McArthurs’. This sense of tranquil solitude. She’d enjoyed her mornings at the other cottage, waking before everyone else and going down to the dock, or walking through the forest, but then she’d been expected to return to the cottage and be social. Blech. No more of that.

She parked the car and stepped out of it, stretching her arms wide and breathing in the forest scent. She had a crazy urge to own this land, not just rent it. She wanted it to be her sanctuary, her retreat. She wanted a sense of permanence in this one area of her life.

She was startled out of her musings by the sight of a man walking down the winding driveway toward her. A familiar man. She reminded herself that she hadn’t known who the property’s caretaker was until
after
she’d decided to rent it.

“Josh,” she said as calmly as she could. “Hi. The rental agent said you’d be around, but were you waiting in the forest or something? I thought I’d have to call you.”

“I was working two doors down. Saw your car.” Laconic, as he tended to be before he warmed up. As if he only gave people as many words as he thought they deserved, and he’d
decided she wasn’t worth many. She hated to think of him hearing about the stupid bet; it would be easier to be angry with him than to feel guilty.

But that wasn’t what she was supposed to be thinking about. “You have the keys?” she asked.

He held them up, then reached out to pass them to her. He dropped them when her hand was about six inches below his, as if she had the plague and he wanted to avoid any chance of contagion.

It was a nice touch, and she resolved to remember it. She could use it in some future role where she was required to show absolute disdain for someone, but hopefully the memory could also inoculate her against any further errors of judgment around this man.

“Thanks,” she said. “And . . .” Did she want to bring it up? Not really, but she didn’t want to leave it unmentioned, either. “Jasmine said she talked to you. Told you about that little game we were playing in the bar. I hope—”

“The bunkie needs some work,” he said, as if she hadn’t been speaking. “The roof got damaged in the storm last week. I put a tarp on it, but it’s not repaired yet. Curran knows about it, and he wasn’t too worried, but now that you’re renting the place he wants me to make sure it’s back in order.”

The bunkie was the tiny guesthouse, just a bedroom and a bathroom, part of the quaintness of the spot. And Sam Curran was the retired NHL star who owned the cottage. This was all just business. Josh didn’t want to talk about anything personal. Ashley tried to adjust. “Okay . . . do I need to do something for that?”