Summer with a Star (Second Chances Book 1) (15 page)

Spence glanced from Yvonne to Tasha, then back again. “Couldn’t you have emailed the script to me?”

Yvonne shrugged. “I could have, but then I thought, why not take a few days to relax, soak up some sun, sit on a beach.”

“Then go to Barbados.”

Yvonne met his comment with a humorless laugh. “Too cliché. Besides, if what I’m seeing online is any indication, you need a little looking after.”

“I’m looking after him,” Tasha protested.

“Like I said,” Yvonne fixed her with a hard stare, “you need some looking after.”

Spence sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. “I didn’t ask you to come here.”

“I know you didn’t, sweetie.” Yvonne stepped across Tasha to him and patted his cheek. “I’m good at knowing when and where I’m needed.”

She couldn’t help it. Tasha snorted a laugh. The only sign that Yvonne noticed was a miniscule tightening of her lips.

“Oh good, the coffee’s ready,” Yvonne said, spinning back to the counter to pour herself a cup. “You young people go enjoy yourself. I’m just going to get myself settled. The pilot script is on the end table in the living room.”

With that, both Tasha and Spence were dismissed, even though Yvonne stood only five feet away from them. Spence treated it as though it were routine. He shook his head and leaned against the counter.

“Did you go for a run?” Tasha asked. If Yvonne was going to ignore her, she would ignore Yvonne just as fiercely. As far as she was concerned, the woman wasn’t even in the room. She wasn’t in the house. She wouldn’t ruin Tasha’s vacation any more than she already had.

“I did,” Spence answered. The forced casualness of his tone told Tasha he was playing the same game she was. “I needed to move, so I went down the south side of Beach Avenue. Far fewer people, although one car slowed down a little too much, like they noticed me.”

The scene at the beach came rushing back on Tasha. “Oh my gosh.” She snapped straight, grabbing one of his arms. “This guy down on the beach. I think he was paparazzi or something.”

“Really?” Spence frowned.

Yvonne shifted, one penciled eyebrow lifting as she put the cream back in the fridge.

“Yeah. It was kind of scary, actually,” Tasha went on. “He came right up to me when I was in the middle of reading and started asking me all these rude questions, about me and about you.”

“Shit.” Spence thumped the edge of the counter. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” she assured him. “I just kept telling him to go away. Fortunately, another guy on the beach, must have been a local, chased him off.”

“You still shouldn’t have to go through that,” Spence said.

No, she shouldn’t. But there was nothing she could do about it now. The whole thing didn’t exactly make her want to run down to the beach to throw a party, though.

“Well, he’s gone now. No harm done,” she said, not sure she believed it. She wasn’t about to let Yvonne see her sweat, though.

By the anxious look Spence was trying to rub off his face, he didn’t really believe it either. “Let me know if you see him or anyone else that looks like that type again,” he said. “I’m gonna go take a shower, then maybe we can work on that puzzle.”

He relaxed into a smile, stole a quick peek at Yvonne—who was ostensibly leafing through a magazine on the counter at the other end of the kitchen with one hand while holding her steaming coffee in the other—then kissed her lightly on the lips. That, at least, coaxed a smile from Tasha.

“Sounds like a plan,” she said.

With one last smile, he left the room. Tasha listened to his footsteps heading up the stairs. She breathed in the scent of coffee, toying with the idea of fixing herself a cup. Then again, if Yvonne had made it, it might be poisoned. She supposed the best she could do under the circumstances was to go find her book and read it on the porch until Spence came back down. She pushed away from the counter and headed to the hall.

“I can take care of that problem for you,” Yvonne stopped her before she reached the doorway.

“What problem?” Tasha asked, on the defensive.

“The paparazzi. I can take care of them for you.” She closed her magazine and tossed it aside.

“I’m sure you can,” Tasha said. She moved on, crossing through the hallway and into the living room where she’d left her tote. She fished through for her book, then continued out to the porch.

Yvonne followed her. “What a lovely view,” she said as Tasha flopped onto the wicker sofa facing the south beach. “No wonder you wanted to come her so badly.”

Tasha ignored her, yanking open her book and holding it up, although she was too annoyed to read. That and she should have brought sunglasses with her. The light was bright and cheery, and it made her squint.

“I’ll handle your paparazzi problems, honey,” Yvonne said as though Tasha had asked her to go ahead and rearrange the world. “They won’t bother you anymore. But remember, this is the way things are for celebrities. You might not like it. You might want to get out.”

Tasha’s frown deepened. She had half a mind to whip around and tell Yvonne exactly what she thought of that.

When nothing but silence followed, she did turn around. Yvonne had gone back inside. Tasha’s frown switched to worry. The woman had the force of a hurricane. There was no telling what she would do or whether Tasha’s vacation was about to be ruined for good.

Chapter Ten

Ever since he’d started working with her years ago, Yvonne had been like a proud mother hen with Spence. He’d always considered it a good thing, a personal touch in a world that was all business most of the time. But when that protectiveness turned into the feeling that he’d taken his mother along with him on what was turning out to be a romantic vacation, the touchy-feely had to stop.

“I need to get out of here,” he whispered to Tasha over their puzzle. Yvonne had been in the house for four days, hovering within hearing distance of him at all times. They’d spent the Fourth of July in close quarters, avoiding the rest of the world. It was annoying during the day, but downright offensive when Tasha refused to sleep with him at night, or any other time, as long as Yvonne and her ears were in the house.

“You’re leaving?” Tasha responded with panic-stricken shock. Her eyes grew huge and her face lost all color. So much so that it was like an arrow through his heart.

“No, no, I don’t mean that.” He shifted around the table to take her in his arms for a kiss designed to show her how not leaving he was.

Tasha was stiff and dripped with anxiety at first, but softened as his lips parted hers. It took more coaxing than he would have guessed, more nipping at her bottom lip and sliding his tongue against hers, than he wanted it to. One little suggestion should not have sent her into a tailspin, like leaving her was the obvious outcome. Maybe it was his fault. She had just gone through a bad break-up with a douche who had probably given her trust issues.

“I meant, let’s go for a walk, get some air.” He jerked his head to the living room where Yvonne was chatting quietly on the phone with another client.

Tasha relaxed and worked her way into a smile. It faded as soon as it was in place. “What about the paparazzi? Are you willing to risk it? That guy from last week might still be around, not to mention all the people who came for the Fourth.”

“Maybe,” Spence shrugged, “and then again, maybe not. It’s cloudy and windy out there, and last I checked there weren’t that many people on the beach.”

“All right. It’s you’re call,” Tasha said.

Relief swept through him. They tip-toed out of the dining room and gathered their phones and sunglasses from the kitchen and sitting room, but they’d have to walk past Yvonne to make it to the porch.

“Partying is one thing, Simon, but if I get even a whiff that you’ve trashed a hotel room, you and I will have a serious sit down,” Yvonne was in the middle of telling the person, presumably Simon, on the other end of her phone call. She caught Spence and Tasha sneaking out onto the porch and narrowed her eyes at Spence.

Spence met her stare with a nod, telling her everything would be all right.

“Yes, I know you
think
you want the bad boy image,” she went back to telling Simon, “but, sweetheart, it’s not enduring. And it’s not worth the headache of staging a comeback.”

“Who’s Simon?” Tasha asked when they were out the door and halfway down the stairs to the beach.

The wind was stronger than Spence would have liked, but it meant the beach was sparsely populated. A few people were flying kites.

“Simon Mercer,” he answered.

Tasha started, stepping so awkwardly onto the sand of the beach that he reached out to steady her.

“
The
Simon Mercer?” she asked.

Spence nodded.

“
The
Simon Mercer who was nominated for an Oscar
and
a Golden Globe this past year?”

“The one and only.” Spence smiled. “Although I say he got incredibly lucky with those nominations.”

“He was really good in
She Walks in Beauty
,” Tasha argued as they headed for the packed sand that the tide had left as it went out.

“He was,” Spence agreed, “but he’s made some other bad choices. Talent is one thing, but discernment is even more important in a business like this. That’s why I recommended he start working with Yvonne.”

Tasha paused, the waves sliding up the beach within a few feet of her flip-flops. “You’re friends with Simon Mercer?”

A guilty grin spread across his face. “I suppose it’s not a good idea for anyone to admit to being friends with Simon the way he’s been acting lately, but yeah, he’s kind of one of the closest friends I have.”

Tasha laughed, but there was something off about it. Her mouth hung open a moment longer than it should, and when she shut it, it stayed shut. She continued walking, crossing her arms to hug herself, staring down at the sand with a pinched expression he couldn’t read.

He didn’t like the tension that bristled off of her, but he didn’t want to pry too hard into what had caused it. As far as he could tell, he wasn’t going to like the answer one way or another. Either she was still upset about Yvonne’s intrusion or she was nervous about his other Hollywood connections. Or maybe she was still thinking about the douchey ex. Or it could even be the attention that he was, once again, drawing from people on the beach.

He smiled and waved at an older couple as they enjoyed a brisk walk on the beach in their preppy matching polos and sneakers. They were the sort he was happy to have acknowledge  him, polite and respectful. He would go out of his way to return that respect. In fact, it seemed like the beach was full of smiling vacationers, happy to be acknowledged but more than willing to keep their distance and give him and Tasha space. He wondered if there was a reason why, if word had gotten around that he was there to relax. Yvonne would know. Yvonne knew everything.

Which was the problem.

“Do you want me to ask Yvonne to go back to New York?” he broached the subject with Tasha. “I can tell her she’s overstayed her welcome if you want.”

Tasha made a face, almost like she wanted to say yes, then shook her head. “No. She’s the one who made all the arrangements for the house. She also arranged for me to have it all next summer.”

“Yeah, she told me.” He approved of that much, at least.

“I can’t argue with a woman who went through all that trouble for me,” Tasha went on. “Even if she does want to get rid of me.”

He opened his mouth to argue that she didn’t want to get rid of her, but knew it would be a lie. “I don’t want to get rid of you,” he said instead, then added with a playful shrug, “I miss the feel of you next to me in bed at night.”

To his surprise, Tasha laughed. “Spence, we only had a couple of nights together in the first place, and it’s only been a few nights back in our own rooms. It’s not like an entire relationship has been interrupted.”

Ouch. Why did that sting so much? Even her smile dropped as the words were spoken aloud.

Damage control was needed.

“What if it was an entire relationship?” he asked, in spite of the twist and pull of everything that any sort of commitment meant.

She stared at him as they walked. Stared with an expression of disbelief. “After two weeks?”

“Does it take more to know?” he argued. Yvonne would think he was nuts. He couldn’t decide on a direction for his career, for his entire life, and hadn’t been able to for months, but less than a week and he’d decided he wanted Tasha in his life.

Tasha was about to reply when her pocket buzzed. She looked a little too relieved to reach for her phone instead of facing down what he’d just said. Her face relaxed when she read the screen.

“It’s Jenny,” she said, typing a reply to her friend’s text. “She wants to know what I’m doing.”

“Tell her you’re walking on the beach with your boyfriend.”

She sent him a doubtful glance, pink flooding her cheeks. Spence cringed. Too soon. Too much.
Rein it back in, Spence
.

Shit. It didn’t help that his own inner scolding was in Yvonne’s voice.

Tasha continued to have a text conversation with Jenny as they strolled up the beach. He thrust his hands in his pockets. He may be crap at decisions and even crapper at knowing how and when to tell a woman he liked her, but at least he could decide to enjoy the day.

Ahead of them, a little girl—probably not much older than seven—was doing her best to fly a kite with some cartoon princess on it. In spite of the wind, she was having a hard time getting started. Her parents sat to the side in beach chairs, fully dressed, with hats and sunglasses, as though they wouldn’t let a little wind deter them from enjoying their vacation. Smart people.

“Do you want some help, honey?” the mother asked, peeking up from her book.

She reminded him of Tasha. Tasha in a few years, watching her daughter play on the beach she loved. The little girl reminded him of Tasha too.

“No,” she called back stubbornly to her mom. Independent and fiery.

As Spence and Tasha got closer—Tasha still engrossed in whatever Jenny was texting her—the tension drained from Spence’s muscles. He was already warm from his run. Children and beaches. Friends and lovers. He could get used to a life that was that simple.

“Miss Pike!” The little girl abandoned her kite, her whole face gone bright at the sight of Tasha. “Miss Pike! Miss Pike!”

Tasha glanced up from her phone in time to see the girl running at her. A split-second of confusion and emotion leftover from the conversation with Jenny made her frown, but the sight of the charging child banished that and filled her with a light that took Spence’s breath away.

“Heather?” Tasha managed to get out her name before the girl careened toward her throwing her arms around Tasha’s waist and squeezing her with a loud hum, as only a kid could do. “What are you doing here, sweetie?” Tasha asked, hugging the girl back.

Everything about the sight looked so right that Spence’s heart expanded in his chest. He took half a step back so he could watch.

“I’m flying a kite,” Heather answered in a rush. “Only I can’t get it started. Mom keeps wanting to do it her way, but I want to do it my way.”

Tasha laughed and hugged Heather tighter before letting her go. “No, I mean what are you doing in Summerbury?”

“Oh. I’m on vacation.”

Heather’s mom had gotten up from her chair and was walking fast across the sand toward them. Her husband was a couple of yards behind. They were young, probably thirties. The father had spotted him and had that curious look that Spence knew so well, but the mother smiled squarely at Tasha. For her, and definitely for Heather, Tasha was the celebrity.

“Miss Pike,” the mother said. “What a surprise to see you here. I didn’t know you vacationed in Summerbury.”

“Ever since I was a kid,” Tasha answered. She held out a hand for the mother with a smile that said she was in her element. “Hello, Brenda. Hi, Tom.” She waved to the father as he approached. “Are you guys having a good vacation?”

“We just got here yesterday,” Brenda explained. “The weather hasn’t been cooperating yet.”

“Did you see my princess kite?” Heather said. “I’m going to get it to work and everything.”

“She’s determined to do it on her own,” Brenda laughed. “You sure did bring her out of her shell last year, Miss Pike,” she added with a conspiratorial wink.

“Heather was a delight to teach. She really blossomed, but I don’t think I can take all the credit for that.”

“Sure you can. Heather had some anxiety issues when she entered second grade,” Brenda began to explain to Spence. As soon as she turned to him and registered who he was, she stopped. Her mouth stayed open, but no more words came out.

“Brenda, this is Spence,” Tasha introduced him, a shade of tension in her voice. “And this is Brenda and Tom. And, of course, Heather.” Her smile returned.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Spence shook Tom and Brenda’s hands. He could see the writing on the wall. Stunned silence and wide eyes. It was the last thing he wanted when Tasha was looking so comfortable and in charge. He squatted to Heather’s level. “Can I help you try to get your kite to work?”

Heather tilted her head and narrowed her eyes with a scrutiny that only a child could manage. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Her comment sent warmth down to his toes. For so many reasons. She’d clearly been raised well, and to her he was just a stranger.

“It’s okay, honey,” Brenda answered, a little breathlessly.

Heather glanced to her mom, then back at Spence. She burst into a smile that revealed a missing tooth. “Okay.”

“Thanks.” He rose, offering her his hand.

She took it without a second thought, leading him away from the other grownups and across the sand to where the princess kite lay abandoned and fluttering.

“You hold it and throw it in the air and I’ll hold the string,” Heather directed him.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, all smiles.

He could get used to this kind of activity, to innocence and purity. In fact, as he lifted the kite, shook off the sand, and launched it into the air once Heather had a firm hold on the roll of string, he had the deep-seated feeling that this sort of thing, children, family, summer vacations and kites, was exactly what was missing from his life.

“Where on earth did you meet Spencer Ellis?” Brenda asked, inching closer to Tasha and keeping her voice to an awed whisper.