The Girl From Summer Hill

  Tate looked behind Casey, and suddenly his face changed to horror.

  Her whole body seemed to drain of blood. Obviously, Kit was behind her and he’d heard. But when she turned around, it was Olivia and she was suppressing a giggle.

  Casey whipped back to glare at Tate, but he’d disappeared down the path and she could hear his laughter. “I’ll get you for that,” she called after him.

  “I look forward to it,” he yelled back.

  Casey and Olivia had spent a lot of time together, but whenever Casey tried to find out what was between her and Kit, Olivia had politely but firmly changed the subject.

  The day after the estate sale, while Olivia helped her bake pies, Casey had told her about rescuing the little boy.

  “You weren’t worried that Tate would drop you?”

  “I don’t think it crossed my mind. He is rather muscular, you know.”

  “A veritable Colossus of Rhodes. How about if we go over your lines for tomorrow? Let’s see if we can prevent Mr. Montgomery from complaining so much.”

  “Do you know what’s wrong with Kit? I spent a lot of time with him this winter and he was one of the calmest people I’ve ever been around. Stacy and I said that he was like those men on the Titanic who gave their seats away to women and children.”

  Olivia was looking at her script. “How about if we go over the scene where Wickham says that Darcy is a man without honor? I think you might have trouble there.”

  Casey was blinking at Olivia. She had completely ignored the question.

  “I’ll be Wickham. Will that be too difficult to imagine? Should I paint on a chocolate mustache?”

  Olivia was smiling, and Casey had wanted to ask her questions, but she didn’t. “Sure, let’s work on that.”

  Now that everyone was settling into a routine, Kit’s bad temper did seem to be calming down. Casey was getting better at pretending Lizzy didn’t know what Darcy was doing behind her back, but tomorrow they were going to start on the scene where Darcy asks Lizzy to marry him. She was to tell him what he could do with his proposal. Casey had played the scene in the audition, but then she’d been in a very different mood.

  “Hello.”

  She turned to see Devlin Haines standing outside her screen door. She hadn’t spoken to him—or, for that matter, thought of him—in days. “Hi. Would you like some pie and coffee?”

  “Love it.”

  He came in and when Casey motioned to a stool, he sat down.

  “How about raspberry cobbler?” She took a plate off the shelf.

  “Exactly what I wanted. Would you mind if I had a glass of milk instead of coffee? I know it’s childish, but I’m missing my daughter so much that I need it.”

  “You must be excited about seeing her.”

  “Will she be here soon?” His eyes were eager, but when he saw Casey’s startled expression, he looked shy. “Sorry. That’s something I should know, but to get to my daughter I have to go through my ex-wife. The only word I ever hear from her is ‘no.’ ” He gave a little shrug. “Yet again I’m dumping my problems onto you. How have you been?”

  “Great,” Casey said. “I’ve been learning that acting is really difficult. Here, have some almonds. I bought them to use in a pie crust, but Olivia told me she’s allergic. How have you been?”

  He took a bite of cobbler. “This is delicious! Actually, I may have a job. At least, I’ve got a chance to try out for a new cop show that will be on FX. I won’t be the lead, but I could be the lead actor’s best friend. If I get it, that is.”

  “Congratulations! Or do I say ‘break a leg’?”

  “I’ll take either one.” He looked down at the pie, then up again. “Town gossip is that you and my ex-brother-in-law have become a pair.”

  “Hardly that!” Casey didn’t meet his eyes. “I do cook for him and Jack, so of course…” She trailed off.

  “Do you know anything about boats?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Only that they shouldn’t have holes in the bottom.”

  “That’s the extent of my knowledge too.” He was smiling.

  Casey thought what a good-looking man he was. And simple. He seemed to be open and cheerful, as though he’d smile no matter what happened in life. She could imagine him laughing while his daughter rode a pony.

  Since Devlin and Tate were so closely connected, Casey couldn’t help comparing them. Devlin didn’t seem to have Tate’s way of going from darkly glowering to smiles within seconds.

  He began to tell her an amusing story about the house he’d rented on the lake. There was a small wooden boat stored in the garage, and he’d taken it out to make space for his car. But he’d found that the boat was such an annoyance to mow around that he slipped it into the water.

  He made Casey laugh when he said he didn’t know what was wrong with him—maybe it was the romance of a boat on the crystal-clear lake—but he’d stepped into it. That he hadn’t tied it to the shore didn’t enter his mind.

  Devlin was a good storyteller, and he acted out his arm-twirling attempts to get back to land using a single oar. The other oar was lying on the lawn, and he told how he’d watched the neighbor’s dog carry it away. “All while I was standing up and cursing at it,” he said.

  “You stood up in a rowboat?” Casey asked, her eyes laughing.

  Devlin shook his head at his stupidity. That’s what he’d done—and that’s when he’d fallen in and found out he was in only four feet of water. He’d slogged back to the shore, pulling the rowboat behind him.

  As he finished his story, Casey took the last of the pies out of the oven. Devlin said the boat was now back in the garage and his car was sitting in the driveway.

  “I should be going,” he said as he stood up. “Maybe you could visit me. Come out to the lake one evening. I make a mean frittata, and I’m good at opening bottles of wine.”

  Casey hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I understand. You’ve met Tate.”

  He sounded as though she’d dropped him at the mere sight of another, more handsome man. “That’s not how things are. I—”

  “Sorry again,” Devlin said. “Tate Landers is a great guy. Has he told you how he came into acting? About his mother’s asthma attack?”

  “He did, actually.”

  “Mmmm,” Devlin said as he went to the door. “The talk shows love that story, and it’s a good one. I guess Letty and Ace will be next. My silly little boat story can’t compete with Tate’s tales of childhood bliss.”

  Casey was frowning, but she wasn’t sure why. Because she’d thought Tate had never told his story to anyone else? That he saw her as someone special?

  Devlin had his hand on the door. “Casey, I’d never dare tell you what to think about anyone, but please, I beg of you, don’t tell Tate about my coming audition. He’s a big-deal movie star, while I’m a jobless TV actor. All he’d have to do is make one call and…” Devlin took a breath. “Not that he would, but anyway, would you please not mention my audition to him? In fact, maybe it would be better if you don’t tell him that you’ve seen me.” He stood there looking at her, his face sincere.

  “I won’t,” Casey said.

  Devlin smiled in relief. “Thank you for the pie, for laughing at my story, and especially for your friendship in spite of what you’ve been told about me.”

  “I’ve heard no gossip about you from any source.”

  Devlin’s face brightened. “Yeah? That’s great. Maybe things are changing. I better go. Thank you, and I’ll see you at rehearsals.” He gave a little grimace. “One thing I hate about playing Wickham is that I got stuck romancing a kid. How old is that girl playing Lydia?”

  “She wrote on her application that she’s eighteen. I thought she was great in the audition.”

  “If you like a kid playing a seductress, yeah, she was excellent. I tend to like grown-up women.” He gave Casey a look so hot that the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “If you ever get any time of
f, I’m at the end of Barton Road. Thanks again for the pie.”

  With that, he closed the door behind him.

  As Devlin left Casey’s house, he was smiling. He’d found out what he needed to know and he’d planted seeds of doubt in her pretty head.

  Security, with Landers’s blessing, had decreed that people not rehearsing that day couldn’t hang around, but Devlin liked to know what was going on. As always, it was because of Landers that Devlin had been forced to hide. He found places in the bushes near the stage where he could watch without being seen. One of the things he wanted to know was if his big-shot ex-brother-in-law would show his disdain for small-town theatrics. Would he take direction from some guy who didn’t know a script from the instructions for a can opener?

  Devlin’s hopes were dashed when Landers acted as though he were performing in an Oscar contender. Why? he wondered. But then he saw the looks Landers was giving Casey.

  At the auditions, he’d seen Landers watching her, but now the looks were deeper. Much more serious.

  Why did the best of everything happen to Landers? Devlin wondered. Whatever he did was touched with good fortune. It was as if some great cosmic force had decreed that each family was to be given a pot of luck, and in their case all of it had gone to Landers.

  But maybe today Devlin had been able to take away a little bit of that golden touch. He knew that Landers had told only his sister that story about his first audition, but when he and Nina were married, Devlin had worked to get information out of her. He liked to know secrets about his enemies. And right now the work had been worth it, just to see the look on Casey’s face. His insinuations had made her trust of Landers go down a few notches.

  When his phone buzzed, Devlin frowned at the ID. It was the private eye he’d hired. “It’s about time! What happened?”

  The man’s voice was gravelly from years of cigarettes and whiskey. “Keep your pants on. I told you I’d get them and I did. But they’re going to cost you twenty thou.”

  “What?” Devlin yelled, then lowered his voice. “You paid twenty grand for those photos? From some tourist with a long lens?”

  “Don’t blame me. It’s the Internet. The guy knew pictures of Tate Landers and Jack Worth saving some kid’s life were worth a bundle. I talked him down from fifty, but then, you can’t really tell for sure who the men are. They’re back inside the house in deep shade.”

  “Can you see the girls?”

  “Oh, yeah. That blonde is loved by the camera! But I like the other one better. She’s got meat on her in all the right places. If you’re planning to use these photos to blackmail Landers, you’re going to have a hard time proving it’s him.”

  Devlin gritted his teeth. “It’s none of your business why I want them. Just send them to me.” As he clicked off, he could hear weights clanging together, and he stepped off the path to the Big House’s garage, into some tall bushes. In the weeks that he’d been in the nowhere town of Summer Hill, he’d become quite familiar with Tattwell. After all, the place should have been his. With Landers always in L.A., what did he need with a house in Virginia? And all Nina had to do was ask for something and her brother gave it to her.

  As he peered through some branches, he saw Landers and Worth with the ugly trainer and the girl playing Jane. They were a cozy little group, looking like they’d known one another for years.

  That Devlin had been thrown out of the rich, easy life of Tate Landers renewed his rage. He had worked hard to be part of it. In fact, he was the one who’d foreseen what Landers was going to become. Didn’t that count for everything?

  Years ago, right after he’d first arrived in L.A., he was young and hungry and living with six guys in a one-bedroom apartment, all of them going from one audition to another.

  One night when they were out for midnight pizza, their good looks attracting a lot of attention, Devlin noticed an “older” woman, late thirties maybe, watching them with interest. The other guys ignored her as she sat there in her plain little car and put away a large pizza all by herself. But Devlin was sure he’d seen her before, so he smiled at her—and ended up going home with her.

  He’d been right that he’d seen her before. She was a top executive at a major movie studio and had a mansion up in the hills. The cheap car was only used when she didn’t want to be recognized.

  When Devlin moved in with her, he knew it was temporary. And she told him that if he tried to use her name to get an acting job, she’d throw him out. She said, “You’re here for sex and that’s all. And when I get bored with you, you’re out. Got it?”

  He did get it, so he kept his ears and eyes open for anything he could use to make a future for himself. One night he heard her on the phone talking about who they were going to get to play the lead in some big-budget romance movie. She said she favored a grown-up kid actor named Tate Landers.

  Devlin didn’t have anything to do while she was at work, so he watched every show Landers had ever been in. Devlin had to admit the kid was good, and when he reached his teen years he’d developed an angry air that the camera seemed to magnify.

  As Devlin watched the shows, he began to think of the advantages of being the best friend of a superstar. He just needed to establish the friendship while Landers was still unknown. Later, there would be big houses, trips together, opening nights. “Did you meet my best friend, Devlin?” he imagined Landers saying. “He taught me everything I know. I owe it all to him.”

  He sought the guy out. Like Devlin, Landers was living with roommates in a small apartment and going to umpteen auditions. He had no idea he was being considered for a major motion picture.

  Devlin did his best to befriend Landers, but it didn’t work. Since he was a few years older, he tried to set himself up as a mentor, but Landers didn’t go for it. They were cordial, but they never got past the superficial.

  It was only by accident that Devlin met Landers’s weak spot: his younger sister, Nina. She was quiet, shy with strangers, and looked to her big brother for everything. In an instant, Devlin changed his plans. If he couldn’t crack the brother, he’d go after the sister. But his intuition told him that Landers wouldn’t like him dating his precious sister.

  It had taken a lot of talking and many lies—both of which Devlin was good at—to get Nina to agree to see him in secret, but he managed it. He conducted a courtship that should have been put in the history books. Flowers, chocolates, laughter, stuffed animals—and sex. Lots of great sex. Nothing kinky. No tying her to the bed, as the woman he lived with liked, but still good. Devlin was kind and considerate, respectful and affectionate. So what if he punched a few holes in the condoms? It was all for a good cause.

  But still…something was wrong, and she began to talk of breaking up. When Nina told him she was pregnant, Devlin was apologetic, said he couldn’t understand how it had happened. He’d been so careful. With big, slow tears, he offered to do whatever she wanted. He loved her and wanted to marry her, but if she didn’t want him, he’d get out of her life. It was her choice. He just begged to please, please be allowed to see his child now and then. In the end, Nina couldn’t stand up to his tears and she accepted his proposal.

  After the wedding, things went well for a while. Landers got his movie role and used some of the money he received to buy his pregnant sister a modest house in an L.A. suburb. Most of the time, Landers was away on movies, Nina was a wife who didn’t ask too many questions, and the kid was quiet.

  It was all great—until Landers began to interfere. Why couldn’t he have left things alone? It was true that he paid for things, but he could afford it. Devlin wasn’t greedy. He didn’t demand a mansion in a gated community, as the sister of Tate Landers deserved. And Devlin did go to auditions. Maybe not as many as he said he did, but enough to say he was trying to get a job.

  It all started collapsing after some blabbermouth told Landers that Devlin hadn’t even tried out for a part that he’d said he was sure he was going to get. There’d been loud arguments and
threats from Landers, who afterward used his connections to get Devlin a serious audition. It was because of Landers that Devlin got the lead role in a new cop series on a cable network.

  The work was grueling! Twelve-hour days. Devlin was in every scene, so they demanded that he stay in shape. If he wasn’t in front of the camera, he was in a gym being yelled at by some thick-necked jock to lift more and more weight. And if the work wasn’t bad enough, Nina and the kid spent the money as fast as he made it.

  Devlin put up with it for one whole season, all while imagining his coming multiple-month vacation. But he had only two weeks off—most of which he spent in bed with one of the extras—then they wanted him to start all over again.

  It took a while, but he got out of it. A few tantrums, a few fights, too much booze, and they threatened to kill his character off. As Devlin knew he would, Landers paid to keep it out of the media, and in apology Landers starred in two episodes. But the series still flopped.

  Afterward, Devlin put on his best act of contrition. He cried to everyone and even spent six weeks in rehab. But it wasn’t enough for Landers. He said he’d be damned if Devlin was going to go back to sitting on his ass and doing nothing while Tate supported him. In private, he yelled about the women. Devlin defended himself by saying that Nina cared more for the baby than she did for him. Landers said, “Damned right she does! Emmie’s the only good thing you’ve ever accomplished in your entire freeloading life.”

  The divorce had been bad, and Devlin had a difficult time getting awarded any money. He’d had to cry to the judge that it wasn’t right that he was being separated from his beloved daughter and that he deserved compensation.

  The L.A. judge mumbled, “I hate actors,” then he’d looked at Tate—who by that time was a major star—and said that sometimes justice and pride had to be put aside for the good of others. “Please don’t drag that little girl through this filth.”

  In the end, Landers had selfishly and begrudgingly agreed to support Devlin for a few more years—until he could “get on his feet again.”