Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Chloe

“Hey, Vanessa,” I say when I answer the phone. I close the sliding glass door behind me and am surrounded by the sounds of the night. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry to bother you on a Sunday night,” she starts. “I got a quick question for you before I pursue this any deeper.”

“Pursue what?” I walk along the patio, looking past the white picket fence at the barn. The lights are on, and I can hear voices coming from inside. I know Mrs. Harris still has chickens, but I’m not sure what other farm animals they have now that the kids are grown.

“I went out to dinner tonight and just happened to strike up a conversation with a producer. Of course you came up, and to make a long story short, they’re interested in getting you involved in an upcoming show. They’re putting a twist on medieval legends, based on a book written thirty years ago that ended on a huge cliffhanger. The author died before he got to finish it. Basically, they want to say the writer of the Shadowfall series is continuing the plot, as well as tweaking the original to be up to today’s standards of equal representation.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yep,” she laughs. “It’s nothing formal at this point, but before I go forward at all, I wanted to see if it’s something you’d be interested in. It would require you to meet in person, probably weekly if not more often. I know that takes time away from your novels. And if this does go through, they want to start in January.”

“Wow. That would be an incredible opportunity.” I look out at the woods behind the barn. It would tie me to LA, and I was just thinking about actually coming back home.

For good.

“Okay, I’m kind of interested to see the formal offer or contract or whatever, but not sold on saying I’m actually interested. Sorry for the non-answer.”

“Don’t be. It was a lot to dump on you, and trust me, it was not what I was expecting to take away from dinner tonight. I’ll get back to the network and we’ll go from there. How’s your write-cation going?”

I unlatch the gate and step into the dewy grass. “Good. It’s been nice to get away, and I have the entire day by myself to write tomorrow. I’m feeling very inspired too.”

“Great. Enjoy your night and give me a day or so to get something more concrete to go over with you. Take care.”

“You too.” I end the call and am about to turn back inside when the barn doors open. I wave, not wanting to freak out Mrs. Harris or anything, and end up walking back inside with them. I wipe my feet on the mat outside the garage door and follow behind Jacob. I’m going slow as I open up Vanessa’s email.

“Boys!” Mrs. Harris exclaims, and I jerk my head up to see Sam and Mason on the ground in what I can only describe as a cat-fight. “What the hell is going on?”

Mason has one arm locked around Sam’s legs, and Sam is holding Mason’s shoe. It drops from his hand and they both scramble up.

“He started it,” they say at the same time, pointing to each other. I cock an eyebrow, looking from Sam to Mason.

“I don’t care who started it,” Mrs. Harris goes on. “Just stop it.”

“You know I would have whooped your ass if I wanted to,” Mason quips, and Sam narrows his eyes.

“You never could before.”

Mason swats Sam on the back of the head.

“I have horse tranquilizers in my truck,” Jacob says.

“Maybe you should get them,” I whisper.

Mr. Harris sighs and walks into the kitchen, going to the sink to wash his hands. “I thought you two grew out of this.”

“Mom did say she wanted things to be just like they were when we all lived here,” Mason grumbles and goes back to the counter, getting another piece of pie.

“Did your agent have good news?” Sam runs his hand through his hair.

“Yeah.” I go back to where I was sitting before, next to Sam. “A producer at a popular streaming service wants me to help them write a show. I don’t know any more details other than that.”

“Ohh, how exciting!” Mrs. Harris coos.

“Maybe?” I shrug. The more I think about it, the less I want to do it. I like writing novels where I can work from my house and control everything in my book. I don’t have to get a room full of others to agree with me, though having a team to help me write would be nice when I get stuck on something. But having to go into an office…that’s not really my thing.

“I’m going to head out,” Jacob says. “It was really good to see you again, Chloe.”

“It was good to see you too.” He hugs me goodbye and then goes out the door.

“Are you ready to go home?” Sam asks me, and my heart flutters, remembering his offer to drink wine by the lake in the moonlight.

“Yeah,” I say, talking with my heart and not my head. “Do you think Rory will be down soon?” I fiddle with my hair, wrapping a curl around my finger. “I want to say bye before I leave.”

“She should be,” Mrs. Harris says.

“How long is she staying in town?” I ask.

“She’s leaving Wednesday evening. You’re not sure when you’re leaving yet?”

I shake my head. “I can stay here for as long as I want, really, though I do miss my horse. He’s getting loved on by the little girls at the barn, so he’s more than fine.”

“It must be nice to work anywhere you want,” Mrs. Harris says.

“It is. I definitely don’t take it for granted.”

The stairs creak and Rory and Dean come down. “Success!” Rory cheers quietly. “He hardly fussed at—” She’s interrupted by the baby crying. “Son of a bitch.”

“He’s your son,” Mason starts. “So does that make you the bitch?”

“Hilarious,” Rory replies dryly. “I’ll get him.”

“We’re gonna head out,” Sam says quickly before his sister goes back upstairs. I get up from my chair so I can give Rory a hug goodbye.

“It was so good to see you again,” I tell her. “We should get lunch before you leave.”

“I brought my dice sets,” she tells me, pulling me in for a tight hug. “We could play D&D over lunch.”

“Yes, please!” I step back and look at Dean. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“Oh, Sam, before you leave, let me show you what Archer and I got for our league this year,” Dean says.

I assume they’re talking about some sort of fantasy sports league, but whatever it is, Sam gets excited and goes into the living room with Dean. Mrs. Harris gives Rory all of a minute before going up to “help” with her grandson, and Mr. Harris huffs about her being overbearing and goes into the living room as well, leaving me alone with Mason, who’s on this third piece of pie already.

“What were you and Sam fighting about?” I ask, debating if I should get more pie too. I never had the second piece like I wanted.

“Nothing,” he says and shoves a forkful of pie into his mouth. “Just horsing around like we used to.”

I nod and look at my phone, reading the email from Vanessa over again.

“Can I ask you something?” Mason puts his fork down on his now-empty plate.

“Sure.”

“You and Charles…it was never serious, was it?”

“What makes you say that?” My heart skips a beat and I instantly panic, thinking back to everything I said during dinner. I didn’t say anything that gave it away, did I?

“It’s my job to analyze people, and I’m good at it.”

“So you analyzed my relationship with Charles?”

“Not on purpose,” Mason says. “It’s kind of a habit now. And from what I saw, you two were never really in love.”

I look at Mason, feeling entirely too exposed. “What gave it away?” I ask quietly.

“It’s the way you look at him, or rather the way you don’t look at him.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I rush out, heart skipping a beat. I can’t fool Mason. Hell, I can’t even fool myself.

“It does,” Mason goes on slowly. “Because I’ve seen the way you look at someone when you are in love with them.”

My throat tightens. “Yeah, and who would that be?” I finally spit out.

Mason tips his head toward me and gently nudges me with his elbow. “We both know the answer to that.”

Right on cue, Sam comes back into the kitchen. Our eyes meet and butterflies take flight. Mason is right, and now one more person knows the truth.

I’m in love with Sam. If only he could love me back the same way.