The Girl from Summer Hill (3 page)

“Hi,” Jack said from outside Casey's door.

She was putting food into boxes and coolers as she prepared to take it to the old warehouse where the stage was being built. Unfortunately, she was using so much force that she almost broke a Pyrex dish.

“Hello,” Jack said louder as he knocked on the doorframe.

Casey jumped. “Sorry, I— Oh. You.” Her eyes were wide.

“May I come in?”

“Of course, but it's a mess in here.”

“When a place smells as good as this one does, it's beautiful to me.”

“I have to—” she began, but stopped. Jack Worth, her absolute favorite movie star, was standing in
her
kitchen. Her first thought was how odd it was to see this man life-size. He looked good, but he also looked human, normal. And right now she recognized what she was so good at dealing with: a hungry person. “Would you like something to eat?”

“Please,” he said.

Minutes later, Jack was seated on the far side of the island and before him was a feast. Casey had opened every container and dished out some of each to him. She warmed up the sweet-potato hash and fried fresh eggs to put on top.

“This is great.” He was eating a maple-walnut muffin and looking around the kitchen at the rows of jars of home-canned jams, their tops covered with red-and-white gingham. On a side wall hung skillets from four inches wide to one that could feed a crowd. Three tall, narrow bookcases were between the big doors to the outside and they were packed with cookbooks, binders, and card boxes. By the big stainless-steel stove were shelves packed with bottles of oil of different colors, most of them with herbs and peppers inside. “I mean it, every inch of this place is great.”

Casey smiled, pleased by his compliment. If she'd been told she was going to meet Jack Worth, she would have said she'd instantly turn into a fangirl. But as she watched him eat, she realized she felt the same way she did with her brother. “Excuse me, but I need to pack things.”

“Go ahead,” Jack said. “How are you transporting all of this?”

“I have to call my brother to come with his truck.”

“Tate has a big pickup in his garage. I can get it and give you a ride.”

She blinked at him. To ride with Jack Worth? All his stunts with cars flying through the air seemed to run through her mind.

“I promise I'll keep all four wheels on the ground.”

“Then I'd rather go with someone else,” she said solemnly.

Jack laughed. “Okay, next time I'll take the Jeep and we'll find some rough roads.”

“You're on.” She put a squash casserole into the cooler. “But you'd better not tell…him, the owner, who's in the truck or he might not let you use it.”

“Bad first meeting, huh?” Jack bit into an apple muffin that had a salted-caramel top.

“Depends on if you like raging fury.”

He held up the muffin. “This is…mmmm! Anyway, that sounds out of character for Tate. He's not like his screen image of the angry, brooding man. All I have to do is drive fast and a girl is happy. But what's Tate to do to impress her? Smolder?”

“What does that mean?” Casey asked. “Wait. Don't tell me. My friend used to say that Tate Landers only had to look at a woman and she'd start removing her clothes. I didn't feel that. He looked at me like I was something he found on the bottom of his shoe.”

“That really doesn't sound like Tate.”

Casey waved her hand. “Why are we talking about
him
? I loved that scene in your last movie where you grabbed the girl off the skimobile. I kept replaying it on DVD. What are you going to do next?”

“In September I start a movie about a spoiled, rich teenage boy who's been kidnapped. I save him and along the way I make a man of him. So what part are you trying out for in the play?”

“None. I'm not an actress. I just cook.”

“This breakfast isn't ‘just' anything. Listen, with your talents, I could get you a job in L.A. at—”

“Thanks, but no. Not yet.” She was planning to say nothing more, but she couldn't help a bit of a brag. “Ever hear of Christie's in D.C.?” She knew he had, as she'd been told he'd visited, but she'd been too busy cooking to look.

“Yeah, of course. I've eaten there. That place was once great but it got to be a mess. You have anything to do with bringing it back to life?”

She didn't reply, just gave a modest shrug. Her boss had hired her straight out of school and had dumped the whole job of restoring the big old once-great restaurant onto her young shoulders. “You can do it. I have faith in you” had been his answer for every catastrophic problem. And he always said it as he was running out the door.

“I am impressed.” Jack smiled the way he did at girls when the camera was on him.

Casey smiled back but thought that it wasn't the same as seeing him on a big screen. He just seemed like a hungry man, handsome but not overly so. Maybe real life took away some of the magic of a celebrity.

Bending, she put utensils into a box. “Right now I want some time off. I need to think about where I'm going and what I want to do. That's enough about me. Try these.” She handed him what looked like doughnut holes but were actually Italian bombolini. Inside was a pastry cream with a touch of orange liqueur.

“Heaven,” Jack said. “On second thought, forget the restaurant job. Move in with me and feed me every day.”

“Now,
that's
a tempting offer,” Casey said. “Do I get sex with that?”

“Honey, feed me like this and you can have any body part of mine you want.”

They looked at each other and laughed because they knew in that age-old way that there would never be anything like that between them. He'd used his best smile on her and she'd felt nothing. As had he. They were destined to be friends and nothing more.

As Jack drove through the pretty little town of Summer Hill, he never took his eyes off the road and he obeyed all traffic signs. Casey didn't know if she was glad or disappointed.

At the first stop sign, Jack said, “I played Bingley in high school. It's what got me started in acting.”

He'd been sitting in a way that seemed to take over the driver's seat, a kind of lazy, confident position she'd seen onscreen. But abruptly, he changed. He sat up straight, arms and legs close together, and quoted Mr. Bingley. “ ‘When I am in the country, I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.' ”

“That's really good,” Casey said in awe. “I've never been able to understand how actors can be someone else. What happens if you have to do a love scene with someone you detest?”

“Did you see
Runaway 3
?”

“Sure. Your girlfriend was trapped on a mountain and you parachuted in and let your plane crash. When that federal agent found you two in the cabin, the look you gave him was priceless. I was sure you were going to shoot him.”

“I hated that woman. She complained endlessly.”

“But you looked like you adored each other.”

“That's why they call it acting. The nicest thing she said to me was that I drove recklessly just to mess up her hair.”

“But driving like a madman is what you do.”

“See? If you worked for me, you could have told her that and protected me.”

“If I heard her being nasty, I would have put sweetened yogurt into her breakfast smoothie. The extra calories would get her back.”

Laughing, Jack pulled into a big parking lot. Before them was a huge old two-story brick warehouse with about a hundred windows. There were a dozen vans outside, all of them with company names painted on the side: electrical, carpentry, heating/AC, plumbing, tile, and glass. It was early, but there was the sound of hammers and saws and men yelling orders.

Casey got out and went to the back of the truck to start unloading. “Hey, Josh!” she yelled.

A handsome young man in jeans and a T-shirt came over and kissed her cheek. He was tall, over six feet, and his shirt showed his muscular chest.

“Could you give me a hand here?” Casey asked.

“Nope,” Josh said. “Not unless I get the bribe you promised me.”

Smiling, Casey opened the container of bombolini and held it out to him.

As he took a couple, he glanced at Jack, who was standing to one side of the truck. “You look like that guy who—”

“He
is
that guy,” Casey said. “Josh, meet Jack Worth, and Jack, this is Josh, my brother.”

As the two men shook hands, Josh said, “I'm not really her brother. She's a half sister of my sister—who is also my half sister.” He picked up a heavy cooler from the truck bed.

“Interesting relationship.” Jack put a box on top of another cooler and picked them both up.

Josh put down the cooler he was carrying, set a big casserole dish on top of it, and picked it up.

Jack started to put his cooler down but Casey stepped between them. “Go, both of you. You can arm-wrestle later.”

The two men started walking side by side toward the warehouse, but then Josh stepped forward and Jack went after him. By the time they got to the doorway they were nearly running.

“Now
there's
a bromance,” Casey muttered.

“Do you need some help?”

She turned to see an older woman, quite pretty, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was slim and looked fit.

“I'd love some help, but I believe in men making themselves useful.” She turned to the vans, which were all open to reveal the tools and supplies inside; a few men were nearby. “I have food,” Casey said loudly, “and as soon as I can get it set up inside, the sooner you guys can eat it.”

Within seconds, half a dozen men were at the truck, picking up containers and carrying them inside.

The woman laughed. “I'm Olivia, and maybe I can help you set up.”

“I'm Casey, and that would be great.” They started walking toward the open doors of the warehouse. “Did you drive in for the auditions?”

“Oh, no,” Olivia said. “I was born and bred in Summer Hill. I came with my daughter-in-law, Hildy. She's trying out for the part of Jane Bennet.”

“That's good,” Casey said. “I figured every female here would want to be Elizabeth.”

“Hildy feels that her physical attributes predispose her to be Jane.”

“What?” Casey asked, not understanding. “Oh, right, I see. Jane is very pretty. That's nice for your daughter-in-law.” She glanced up at the warehouse. “I haven't been here since Kit bought this place. Half the windows were broken and the inside was full of trash. Looks like it's been cleaned up since then.”

“Wait until you see the inside.”

They went through a wide doorway toward all the noise of men and tools—and Casey gasped. The warehouse was in the final stages of renovation. It was a long, high-ceilinged space. A big stage was at one end, seats on raised tiers in the middle, and a closed-off area was for ticketing. What was especially startling was that a lot of one wall had been torn out and glass doors put in. Casey knew that when Kit bought it, the yard had been full of derelict pieces of machinery and some rather impressive weeds. That was all gone and in its place was a garden. As she watched, a crane lowered a twenty-foot-tall birch tree to two men who were guiding it into a big hole.

“Wow” was all Casey could say.

“Thank you,” came a deep voice that she knew well. “I take it you approve.”

She held her cheek up to Kit's kiss. He was tall and elegant, his thick gray hair like a lion's mane. “It's beautiful.”

“I hear you had a bit of an adventure this morning,” he said. “It seems that the question is whether you saw or didn't see.” His eyes weren't on Casey.

“Do you know Olivia?” she asked. “And I'm not telling what I saw, but just so you know, fairy godmothers
do
grant wishes.”

Kit laughed, a rich, pleasant sound.

But for all that he was laughing at Casey's joke, he hadn't taken his eyes off Olivia—who was studiously watching the men in the garden. Casey looked from one to the other. “Olivia is going to help me serve, and her daughter-in-law is here to audition for the role of Jane.”

Kit dragged his eyes away from Olivia and consulted the clipboard he was holding. “And you are auditioning for what part?”

“None of them,” Olivia said firmly. “I'm just here to help my daughter-in-law if she needs me.”

The tables had been set up near the big glass doors, the boxes and coolers beside them. Three men were standing nearby, waiting for food.

“I better get busy.” Casey went to the tables, Olivia behind her.

The two women worked well together, each seeming to know what the other wanted before it was done. Within minutes the big tables were covered with white paper, and breakfast items were set out. Kit had ordered dozens of pastries from the local bakery, so most of the food Casey had prepared could be saved for lunch.

As they worked, the big warehouse began to fill up with people, all of them carrying copies of the script that Kit had written during the winter with the help of Casey and her half sister Stacy. He had complained about the difficulty of translating
Pride and Prejudice
into a script. “She left out important dialogue and now I have to make it up.” Since he was referring to the very perfect Jane Austen, Casey had groaned.

“Look at this,” he said. “The pivotal scene of the book is paraphrased. She doesn't tell what Darcy said when he proposed, just that he insulted Elizabeth. How? What
exactly
did he say? Didn't this woman have an editor?”

They had laughed over Kit's complaints, but he got them back by making them read the lines aloud every time he rewrote them. They got to the point where they had memorized everyone's lines.

Smiling at the memory, Casey began filling mugs from the big urn, while Olivia opened more boxes of doughnuts. The tables were soon surrounded by workmen getting coffee and pastries—and they didn't seem to want to leave. “At this rate someone will have to make another run to the bakery,” Casey said. “I think I'm jealous. What did they put into these that makes them so popular?”

“It's not the doughnuts, it's the Lydias. And the girls are here for Wickham,” Olivia said. “Look.”

A table had been set up by the exterior door, and names were being taken and badges handed out. All the
Pride and Prejudice
characters were represented, but Lydia was four to one. Many women had a badge saying
L
YDIA
clipped to their shirts.

“What in the world is going on? I thought there'd be a lot of competition for the lead roles.”

Olivia nodded toward the stage. There in the center, talking to Kit, was a very handsome man. Dark-brown hair, broad shoulders, all of it encased in the red uniform worn by the officers in Meryton.

“Another one!” Casey said under her breath.

“Another one what?” Olivia asked.

“Beautiful man. It's my day for them. I'm beginning to feel like a magnet attracting bits of very pretty steel.”

“Hey, Casey!” Josh called from atop some scaffolding. “You gonna try out for Lydia?”

“No, but I think
you
should try out to be Wickham.”

There was a collective gasp from half a dozen young women who gazed up at him with smiles and fluttering eyelashes.

“I'll get you for that.” Grinning, Josh returned to plastering the wall, his back to the girls.

Eight of the Lydias hurried to Casey.

“Do you think Josh will play—”

“Will he audition with—”

“Can he wear a uniform?”

“Have no idea. Doubt it. Absolutely not,” Casey said. “Who wants an eight-hundred-calorie pastry?”

All the girls backed away except for one. She too had
L
YDIA
pinned to her top, but she didn't look like the other girls, all of whom had on enough makeup to start a business. This girl was pretty and blonde, tall and thin, and she kept her head down as though she was too shy to meet Casey's eyes. She took her doughnut and a mug of orange juice and went to the side of the room to sit down and read her copy of
Pride and Prejudice
.

“What an extraordinarily pretty young woman,” Olivia said in such a way that Casey glanced at her. She was about to ask a question that might get Olivia to reveal something about herself, but Jack came to the table.

“Where have you been?” Casey asked. “Hiding from the autograph seekers?”

“Are you kidding?” he said. “All the prettiest girls are chasing the uniform.” He looked toward the stage, where the man in red was contemplating the girls sitting in the front row. It was a whole line of Lydias.

“You poor guy,” Casey said, “but I'll tell you a secret.” She leaned toward him. “I just saw Reverend Nolan's van pull up.”

“What does that mean?”

She stepped behind him, put her hands on his shoulders, and turned him to face the exterior door. “Keep your eyes on that doorway and you'll see what I mean.” She went back to the other side of the table.

“I take it this means Gizzy Nolan is going to audition,” Olivia said. “Elizabeth or Jane?”

“Sorry,” Casey said. “She's going for Jane.”

“Poor Hildy,” Olivia said.

Jack was watching the doorway but nothing was happening. He was about to turn away when an incredibly pretty girl walked in. She paused a few steps in and looked around. The bright outdoor light was behind her and a breeze moved her long, thick hair. The shape of her was extraordinary, tall and slim but with a magnificent bosom. Small waist, curvy hips, and long, long legs. But her body was nothing compared to her beautiful face. She was like the princesses described in fairy tales: blonde hair, eyes like sapphires, full pink lips.