But what did she know? Her instincts about people had tanked in recent months. And judging a man’s character after two meetings was foolish—as was letting thoughts of him creep into her consciousness.
She sniffed and dabbed the tissue at her damp lashes.
Besides, he was history. After rebuffing his overtures of friendship twice, it was doubtful he’d seek her out again. Why would he set himself up for a third rejection? Unless he had an ironclad ego, he’d keep his distance in the future.
And that was fine by her. She couldn’t handle any more complications.
Yet if that was true, why did the possibility that she’d never see him again add another dark layer to the shroud of dejection cloaking her life?
“Katherine?”
At Simon’s prod, she refocused on his question. “No. I don’t need anything else. Just send the script and buy me as much time as you can.”
“I’ll take care of both today. Have you been following the rags?”
Her stomach tightened. “No.”
“They’re on your side.”
Like that mattered, when someone was dead.
“I don’t really care.”
“You will down the road.”
Only if she went back to her old life.
But what other life did she have? If she didn’t go back, what would she do?
Another question that continued to torment her.
“Anything else?” She wadded up the tissue.
“No—but stay in touch.”
“I’ll call or text if I have anything to say.”
A tapping noise came over the line.
He was drumming his pen on his desk, a definite sign he was miffed.
“You know, Katherine”—a chill wafted across the miles—“we’ve come a long way together. There are responsibilities on both sides.”
Classic Simon. The one who knew how to play guilt to his advantage. Who never failed to remind her she owed him.
But that debt had been paid long ago.
“I realize that. I also realize you’ve profited significantly from our partnership.”
“As have you—thanks to my negotiating skills.”
No acknowledgment that her acting ability had also contributed to their success.
She let the omission pass.
“We both have much to be grateful for.”
“Agreed—and together, we can take your success to a new level. Add millions of admirers to your fan base.”
“And millions of dollars to our bank accounts.”
“That isn’t a sin.” The tempo of the tapping quickened.
“It also shouldn’t be the main goal in life.”
“That’s not how you felt five years ago when you signed with me.”
“People learn. Grow. Change. And money wasn’t my only motive for wanting to succeed.”
After a moment, the drumming ceased. “Why don’t we table this discussion for today? You’ve earned a vacation. Walk on the beach. Eat fattening food. Take scenic drives. Sleep late. In between all that, read the script.” His chair squeaked, as if he’d leaned forward. “I’ve got another call coming in. I’ll text you after I talk to the studio.”
The line went dead, and Katherine set the phone on the side table. Wandered out to the deck and dropped onto a chaise lounge, letting the sun’s warming rays percolate through her pores.
So many questions—so few answers.
Too bad she didn’t have someone to talk to about her predicament. Someone like Charley, who’d once listened to her dreams of fame and riches over tacos on a bench by the wharf.
All at once, a bit of wisdom he’d offered that day surfaced from the recesses of her mind.
“I expect most dreams are reachable, if a person’s willing to pay the price. The question is whether the goal is worth the cost—and whether the return on investment is positive or negative.”
In those days, she’d assumed he’d meant price in terms of hard work and sacrifices—and that had been a no-brainer. You didn’t get anywhere in any field without those.
Yet only now was she beginning to understand the return on investment part of his comment.
Because the negatives were starting to outweigh the positives.
But after all the sweat and sacrifice she’d put into achieving her dream, how could she walk away—even if parts of it had become a nightmare?
Was his neighbor asleep?
A generous dish of blackberry cobbler in one hand and a pint of French vanilla ice cream in the other, Zach halted a few yards from the deck of the Clark cottage and assessed Kat, who was stretched out on a chaise lounge.
Eyes closed. Respiration steady. Posture limp.
No question about it. She was sound asleep.
Bummer.
He was going to have to work on his timing if he ever wanted to connect with her again.
Consigning today’s attempt to the bust category, he swung around and set off for home.
And then the heavens smiled on him.
A drop of water plopped against his cheek, released by the dark gray clouds that had scuttled over the sun in the past ten minutes, blotting out much of the blue sky. It didn’t appear they were in for more than a brief burst of rain—but it ought to be sufficient to rouse his neighbor.
Or give him an excuse to interrupt her slumber and save her from an unscheduled shower.
As he pivoted back, she sat up and swung her legs to the deck.
The instant she spotted him, she jumped to her feet and edged toward the sliding door.
No smile.
No hello.
No encouragement to linger.
Not the warmest welcome he’d ever received.
Nevertheless, he hiked up the corners of his mouth, strolled closer, and lifted his offerings. “I come bearing gifts. Fresh blackberry cobbler and ice cream. I thought you might enjoy sampling my culinary efforts.”
She stopped at the door. Caught her lower lip between her teeth.
While he waited for her verdict, he tried not to stare at the vivid blue eyes on full display today. Fringed by lush lashes shades lighter than her dark hair, they were a striking sapphire hue. And the addition of model-like high cheekbones vaulted her into the classic-beauty category.
Why did she hide such a stunning face behind dark shades?
“I don’t often indulge in desserts, but I appreciate the offer.”
She was turning him down . . . yet behind her refusal, was there a hint of yearning? As if she was tempted to accept but wasn’t certain she should?
Could he exploit that ambiguity?
“Not even on a special occasion?”
Her brow puckered. “What’s the occasion?”
“When’s the last time you had blackberry cobbler filled with fresh Oregon berries and made by a suave, sophisticated—dare I add decent-looking—guy?” Perhaps humor was the key to knocking a few chinks in her armor. Nothing else was working.
The subtle twitch of her mouth suggested his tactic had been spot-on.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had that pleasure.”
“Voilà—special occasion.”
Her lips bloomed into a full-fledged smile.
Whoa.
She was gorgeous with a poker face, but that smile transformed her into a breath-stealing stunner.
He reined in the sudden surge in his pulse and ignored the jolt of testosterone that rocketed through him.