The Girl from Summer Hill (10 page)

Jack opened the door of the Big House.

“I'm sorry this is such a simple meal, but the auditions ran late.” Casey was standing outside the entryway. “Plus, I have a dinner guest coming soon, so I didn't have much time to prepare.” She held out a big basket to him.

He took it and opened the door wider. He was grateful for his own acting experience because he was able to keep smiling. Tate had returned to the house looking like he wanted to murder someone—and it was a toss-up between his ex-brother-in-law and Casey. All Jack had been able to get out of him was that Haines was going to play Wickham and Casey was his champion. Jack wanted to hear everything that had happened.

But when he asked Casey to come in, she backed away, her hands raised in horror. “No thanks. I have to get ready for dinner, and besides, it's been a very long day.”

“Mind if I walk you back?”

“Please do,” she said.

He put the basket down and they walked toward the guesthouse. “I heard that you auditioned for the role of Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Not really,” she said. “I mean, I did sort of.”

“What did Kit say about it?”

Casey stopped walking. “Sorry, but…Men! The audition was a fiasco. I got really angry and was embarrassed by what happened, but people cheered and—” She waved her hand. “Kit loved it. He was ecstatic. I was still in the dressing room when he came in and told me I was going to be Elizabeth. Then he left. Just like that! He made an autocratic decree about me, and added—like it meant nothing—that the movie star was probably going to play Darcy. Then Kit just walked away like it was a done deal. I ran after him and told him I'd sooner cook with aluminum pans, let my knives get dull, whatever, than be in a play with Tate Landers. I said— Oh.” She looked at Jack. “Sorry again. I know he's your friend, but he makes me furious. But then, if you spend a lot of time around him, I'm sure you're used to women saying that.”

“No, actually,” Jack said, “you're the first.”

They were at the guesthouse. “I suspect the women were too dazzled by his good looks to notice what he's really like. If he were ugly, women wouldn't have anything to do with him.”

“Isn't that always true?”

“So now you're saying that all women are superficial and are attracted only by a man's pecs and abs?”

Jack raised his eyebrows in a way that made Casey laugh in spite of herself. “Okay. You have a point,” she said. “Come in and I'll make you a drink. How about some twelve-year-old Scotch on the rocks?”

“Sounds great.” He sat down on the same stool as he had before and she poured him a drink. While he sipped it, he watched her move about the kitchen as she put things away. “Are you going to take the role?”

“I'm no actress. All the passion I put into the lines came from my anger at Tate Landers.” She turned to Jack. “Do you know what he was doing in my bedroom?”

“I have no idea.” He wasn't being entirely truthful.

She dropped two stainless bowls into a drawer, making a clatter. “I think he undressed, because his shirt was hanging off the porch roof. All day I was dreading what I'd find up there when I got home.”

“And?” Jack asked.

“My pajamas were on the floor, and everything on my dresser had been rearranged. It's as though he went through all my things.” She looked at Jack. “There was a peacock feather sticking out from under the bed. Bright green with an eye on it. Finding that in my bedroom was really creepy! Tomorrow Josh is going to put some dead bolts on my doors, and I'll have to close all the windows and lock them.”

Jack was frowning. “None of this sounds like Tate.”

“I guess we can never see the truth about our friends.” She went back to cleaning.

“Casey,” Jack said tentatively, “I think I should say something about Devlin Haines.”

It didn't take much to know what he was going to say. “Do you know the man personally or have you just heard what Landers says about his ex-brother-in-law?” Her eyes were challenging his.

“Just what I've been told,” Jack said. He put his drink up to his mouth and said nothing more.

Casey took a breath. “That's enough about me. You seemed really taken with Gizzy.”

Jack looked down at his drink. “She's nice, very sweet. She makes me feel like I should put on armor and protect her.”

“Um…Jack…” Casey leaned across the island toward him. “Maybe you know that Gizzy is my half sister. We share some things, but we're also very different.”

“What does that mean?”

“Gizzy is as beautiful as a spring day, I'll give you that. Men follow her wherever she goes.”

Jack didn't seem to notice that she hadn't answered his question. “I heard that her dad is tough on men who try to date her. But I understand. She needs to be protected.”

“Actually, Reverend Nolan tries to protect the men.”

“Oh, no.” Jack groaned. “Tell me she's not insane. In the last two years every girlfriend I've had has been crazy. One danced for three days with no sleep, then spent six days in bed saying she hated life, then she got up and did it all over again. And if you tell the press that, I'll sue you.”

“No, Gizzy isn't crazy. She's quite sane. I don't know how to explain. You know how movie princesses used to stand around and wait for a man to rescue them? But now they grab a sword and fight their own way out?”

“Yes, but that's good. In my last movie the girl saved me twice.”

“I loved that part. Was that really you climbing up that wall and later hanging from the helicopter? Did
you
dive into the ocean from that cliff?”

“All me. I was told the insurance guy fainted at the dive, but I did it anyway.”

“Then you'll be fine with Gizzy. Now, I don't mean to run you out, but I need to shower and change. I have a date tonight.”

Jack stood up. For a moment, he looked like he might say something else, but he didn't. “That's great. He's a lucky man.”

“Thanks,” Casey said.

Jack started for the door, but then he turned and kissed Casey's cheek.

“That'll get you squab for dinner tomorrow night.”

“What's that steak two people share?”

“Chateaubriand,” she said.

“Keep that in mind. I'll tell you when I need it.”

“Gladly.” Smiling, Casey watched him walk away, then closed and locked the door. “If Gizzy doesn't decide to catch some grasshoppers and fry them,” she muttered as she glanced toward the stairs. She'd only spent a few minutes in her bedroom earlier, but she'd been so creeped out by what she saw there that she'd run back down. She'd quickly prepared dinner for four and taken two meals to Jack. She hated including enough food for Tate as well, but he was her landlord and he was staying there. Besides, she couldn't bear to let anyone go hungry.

At the foot of the stairs, she took a breath before going up. Maybe she should burn some sage sticks to get his presence out of her house.

In her bedroom, she again looked around. Earlier, she'd hastily put things back to the way they had been. The little red jewelry box her mother had given her went to the left; her two awards for Best Chef went on the right. The photo of her with her mom in Appalachia, surrounded by a dozen grinning children, went in the center. Her big hairbrush was on a linen cloth beside her comb.

She'd checked the insides of the drawers, but nothing seemed to have been moved. As she'd picked her pajamas up off the floor and thrown them into the clothes basket, she wondered if she'd ever wear them again.

While locking the bedroom door and checking that the windows were secure, she again wondered what he'd been doing in her bedroom. Was the answer one of those creepy male things where a man just liked to touch female possessions?

She showered quickly and got ready for Devlin's arrival, putting on a cotton dress with a little pink shrug and pale sandals. Not too daring, but modest and demure. As she gave a last glance at the mirror, she told herself that tonight she was not going to even mention Tate Landers.

Her head came up. What if she played Elizabeth and Devlin played Darcy? Josh could be Wickham. Not a bad idea, she thought. Tomorrow, she'd be firm and tell Kit that the only way she'd play Elizabeth was if Devlin could be Darcy.

Smiling, she went downstairs to set the table with candles and her prettiest wineglasses.

“You should have been there!” Tate said.

It was after dinner and he and Jack were in the library of the old house. Jack was sitting on the leather chesterfield sofa, sipping the espresso Casey had made and put into a thermos.

Tate was pacing the floor like some predatory animal. “She assumes I'm full of myself, swallowed up by my own ego. But she knows nothing about me, especially not the hell all of us went through with Haines.” He put his hands in his pockets and sat down on a red-and-green plaid chair. An hour earlier, while Tate was upstairs, Casey had delivered their dinner. When he saw the basket, he was sure there'd be nothing in it for him, but there were two of everything. While they'd eaten trout braised in whiskey, he'd been mostly silent, looking at his excellent food as though it might be poisoned.

“If this is what she does in a hurry, I can't imagine what she cooks when she has time,” Jack said, but Tate hadn't responded. When they got to the library, Tate nearly exploded and told Jack what was going on.

Jack had been shocked to hear that Tate's ex-brother-in-law was in town, even more surprised to hear that Haines had the role of Wickham in the play. He'd only seen the man once before today, so earlier, when Haines was onstage, Jack hadn't recognized him. “Appropriate,” Jack had mumbled, but he'd been knocked speechless when Tate said that Casey's date was Devlin Haines.

“I tried to tell her about the man but she wouldn't listen,” Jack said. “And she was right. I don't know him.
You
have to tell her about him.”

“Go to her with my tail between my legs and beg her to believe me? I don't think so.” Tate got up and went back to pacing. “I wonder when she met him? She was at those food tables all day long. And through all the auditions she sat there with that blonde woman and they laughed at everything. Not that they made any noise. She was very respectful of those poor women who stared at me like I was from another planet, but I saw her. She laughed exactly where I would have. There was one time when a woman left out the word ‘not.' She was supposed to say that if Darcy were the last man on earth she wouldn't marry him, but she said—”

“I get it. An amateur messed up the line.”

“Yeah, but it was funny, except that nobody else laughed. Only she did.”

“Casey.”

“Yeah, PJ Lady.”

“You ever call her that to her face and you may not live.”

“No danger of that, since I'm leaving tomorrow. Anyway, I cut a glance at her and she and the woman were nearly falling out of their seats—but silently. Who is she?”

“The blonde or PJ?”

“I've had all the ridicule I can take today.”

“The other woman—the blonde—is named Olivia something, and she's going to play Mrs. Bennet.”

“There were auditions after I left?” Tate asked.

“I have no idea. Gizzy told me. By the way, before you open your mouth and insert your foot, Gizzy is a half sister to Miss PJ—I mean Casey. So don't complain to her about Casey. You want some of this coffee?”

“No.”

“What are you going to do about your brother-in-law?”

“Ex,” Tate snapped. “I pay him enough that he's supposed to stay out of our lives.”

“That's not possible, since he's Emmie's dad.”

“Why couldn't my sister have played around? It would be great if a DNA test would show that Emmie's real father was some nice accountant. Or a clown who did children's birthday parties. Or—”

“She didn't, so stop fantasizing. He's probably in the guesthouse with Casey right now, telling her what an egomaniac you are. And I know you mentioned it, but what exactly were you doing in her bedroom?”

Tate gave a little snort of laughter. “This morning the caretaker released a peacock and his ladies on the property, and the big guy tore through her screen door and went upstairs. It turned her bedroom upside down. I had to throw my shirt over the beast to get it out the window, and even then it nearly bit me in the face. I'm looking forward to a peacock barbecue.”

“When I was just there, there was no hole in the screen door. Maybe the caretaker fixed it. You should tell Casey that story.”

“Before or after I give her a list of the women I've slept with? It's something she asked me for while we were onstage. In front of everybody.”

“I am definitely sorry that I missed this afternoon's performance. What was your reply?”

“I, uh…I gave her my best look of…of, you know, and she said no.”

“What does that mean?” Jack asked, then his eyes widened. “You—the great romance hero—came on to her and she turned you down?”

Tate sighed. “Yeah, that's just what happened. I used the full-blown, come-to-me look of the hero. The one I get paid so much to do. But she curled her very pretty upper lip at me and told me to drop dead. More or less.” He paused. “You know, the irony of all this is that when I walked out onto that stage I was really glad to see her. At least she was familiar-looking.” He sat down on the couch so hard, Jack's coffee sloshed.

“Okay, so you've made a fool of yourself from the moment you met her and she's slapped you down at every step. But you still like her. A
lot
.”

“That's ridiculous!” Tate snapped, and got back up.

“Is it? She laughs at the same things you do. She gives it back to you when you take potshots at her. Didn't you drop your last terrifically beautiful girlfriend because she had…let me see if I remember exactly what you said…‘the IQ of a doorknob'? Is that right? And your complaint about the one before her was that she adored you.”

“Yeah, well, she kept saying how fabulous it was to be Tate Landers's girlfriend. I told her
I
was Tate Landers, but she had no idea what I meant.”

“So now you're mad because Casey is smart and she sure as hell doesn't ‘adore' you. Sounds perfect to me. The question is, What are you going to do about your ex-brother-in-law?”

“Nothing. What can I do? She hates me so much she wouldn't believe anything I said.”

“So you're going to fly back to L.A. tomorrow and leave Casey to date Haines? How long will it take her to find out what he's really like? Before she's crying as hard as you told me Nina was? Think Casey will be put under a doctor's care as Nina was? Given little blue pills? Or were they green?”

“Both!” Tate said loudly. “Okay, I get it. You don't have to—”

“And then there's Emmie. If Haines is in the play, that means he plans to be here all summer. You told me how much Nina and Emmie love it here. I know! You could buy your niece a pony. But you'll have to do it from L.A., because that's where you'll be. Maybe her daddy can teach her to ride since he'll be here with Casey day after day. That's his MO, isn't it? Court them, make them fall for him, then dump them? After he cleans out their bank accounts, that is. But don't you worry about anything. When Haines leaves and Casey is crying her heart out, I'll be here for her. Hey! Maybe while you're in L.A. you could send me some—”

“Shut up!” Tate said. “Just damned well shut your mouth.” He took his phone off a side table and began punching buttons.

“Calling anyone I know?”

“Texting my assistant to cancel my flight tomorrow. I'm staying here and I'm going to play Darcy in a two-bit small-town play. Damn! The things I do for my family!”

Jack couldn't hide his smile. He hadn't looked forward to living alone in the huge old house for an entire summer. But now things were looking up. Tate, Nina, Emmie, and his new friends Gizzy and Casey would be here. Life was looking good!

He watched Tate scowling at the empty fireplace. Jack hadn't said so, but he had a suspicion that if Tate had been watching Casey, Haines had seen it. Jack meant no offense to pretty Casey, but if that man was going after her, it was probably to get back at Tate.

As Jack sipped his coffee, he thought that Tate sure had canceled his flight quickly. And that was good, because if anyone was going to persuade Casey that Tate was a good guy, it had to be Tate himself. Jack had an idea that that's exactly what his friend was going to try to do.

Jack put his empty cup down on the coffee table and stood up. “This has been a long day and I'm meeting Gizzy for breakfast tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Long day—that's it!” Tate said. “If there's one thing Haines can't resist, it's anything he thinks is luxurious—paid for by someone else, of course. Didn't I see some bottles of wine somewhere?”

“Yeah. In the pantry off the kitchen.”

“Great!” Tate said. “Before you go to bed, could you do me a favor and take two bottles over to the guesthouse? I'll stick a card on one saying ‘Congratulations.' ”

“You're sending Haines wine?”

Tate gave a slow smile. “Casey has been on her feet since before daylight. Let's see how much she can drink and stay awake.”

Jack laughed. “It's a gamble, but let's hope it works. You write a card and I'll get the booze.”