The Girl from Summer Hill (12 page)

“What are you doing here?” Casey asked as soon as she entered the kitchen and saw Tate sitting on a stool at her island—the stool she'd already come to think of as belonging to Jack.

“Olivia let me in, fed me, and now I'm trying to think what I can say to get you to cook for me this summer. Any suggestions?”

Casey went to the dishwasher to unload it, but it was empty. “Did Olivia clean up the kitchen?”

“I guess so.” He was watching her, waiting for her to make a decision. “It wasn't me, but I would have done it. Although if Olivia hadn't been here I would have been too terrified to enter your house. She grabbed me by the shirt collar and pulled me inside. She is extraordinarily strong.”

Casey didn't smile at his joke. Turning, she glared at him. “So it's true that you're spending the summer here?”

“Looks like I am. Jack's director is sending a trainer for him so he'll be in top shape for his next movie. I thought I'd use him too. The garage is being converted to a gym. If you want to join in, you're welcome.”

“No thanks.” She took a breath. “Has Kit found someone to play Elizabeth?”

“I think he means for you to do it.”

“No!” Casey said. “Absolutely
not
.” She started for the door. “I will tell him that I'm not going to be in his play.”

“Please?” Tate asked loudly.

Casey hesitated, her back to him.

“I know you don't like me and I'm sorry for that, but I promised Kit I'd help out. You were the only one in those auditions with me who had any talent. If one of those girls who think I'm some fairy-tale hero from my movies takes the role, the play will be a flop. Critics will come and butcher it all. Sales will fall off and it will be the charities that suffer. Maybe they're impersonal, faceless organizations, but they still—”

“No, they're not.” She looked at him. “The charities aren't impersonal or faceless to me. A third of those proceeds will go to my mother's clinic.”

“I hadn't heard that. What kind of clinic is it?”

“Medical. In Appalachia.”

“That's great,” Tate said. “The more tickets we sell, the more money your mother gets, right?”

Casey tightened her lips.

“Does your mom know how good an actor you are?”

Casey stepped away from the door. “I'm not good. It was an angry scene and I was furious. At
you
.”

“I know,” he said, “and I'd be sorry for that if it hadn't been some of the most powerful acting I've ever seen.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you piling praise on me?”

Tate started to give a little smile and lower his lashes at her. It was a trick he'd been using since he reached his full height and women began really looking at him. But then he thought of Olivia's words and stopped. His head came up. “Because I want a good summer. I haven't had even two weeks off in years. My sister and her daughter are coming here and I want to spend time with them. I had no plans to be in some local play, but Kit…” Tate threw up his hands. “I honestly don't know how I got rooked into doing this and I already regret it, but on the other hand, if I don't
do
something while I'm here I'll go nuts with boredom. So what about it?”

“What part?” Casey asked.

“Cook for Jack and me and when Nina and Emmie get here, add them to the list. And play Elizabeth. But only if you swear that you won't look at me like I'm some chocolate statue you want to devour.”

At that, Casey had to turn away to cover the tiny smile that came to her. “You want me to play Elizabeth because I don't like you?”

“Pretty much,” he said. “But then, in my last three movies the lead actresses couldn't stand me.”

“Understandable,” Casey muttered.

“Ouch! Can I give Kit your answer?”

“I will,” Casey said. “Next time I see him—”

“He's here. Everyone is here.”

“Who is everyone and where is here?”

“At Tattwell. The whole cast is here, and the property is being fenced in. Guards have been hired to patrol the place. That guy Josh has half a dozen workmen putting the old gazebo back together. He and Jack have developed some kind of rivalry. Do you know what that's about?”

Casey was scrubbing the sink. “I have no idea.”

“I was afraid it had something to do with the girl playing Jane. What's her name? Glenda?”

“Gisele, but we all call her Gizzy.”

“Jack's really taken with her.”

“It won't last,” Casey said as she folded her cloth. “I have to ask Kit how he's planning to feed the cast and whether he needs me for cooking.” She went to the door, but Tate stayed where he was. She could see that he was waiting for her to answer his questions. “All right, I'll cook for you. I'll deliver three meals a day.”

Tate didn't move.

“And I'll talk to Kit about being in the play.”

Tate smiled but he still didn't get off the stool.

“What else?”

“It's my niece, Emmie. My sister doesn't cook. Never has. The last time she tried to scramble some eggs, she set the skillet on fire. Emmie thinks a Pop-Tart is a good breakfast.”

For the first time since seeing Tate Landers in her kitchen, Casey's eyes came alive. “Pop-Tart? You start a child's day with processed flour and pure sugar?”

“Not me. My sister. Emmie is a very picky eater. Think you could get her to eat something that didn't come out of a delivery box?”

“Yes,” Casey said as she opened the screen door. “I'd like to go now and see what's being done. But I guess you don't have to leave since you own this house.”

Tate got off the stool and went to stand near her. “How about if I swear that I'll never again enter this house unless
you
invite me in? No one else, just you.”

“You mean like a vampire?”

Tate gave a laugh that was part groan. “If they remake
Dracula,
think I should try out for the part? I'd bite beautiful necks right there.” Reaching out, he lightly touched the side of her neck with his fingertip—and an electrical current shot up his arm and ran through his chest.

Casey jumped away from him. “What the hell was
that
?”

“Static electricity, I guess. You okay?”

“Fine. But from now on, keep your hands to yourself.”

“Sure,” he said, then held the door open for her. “No touching, no trespassing, no anything. I got it.” He followed her through the gardens toward the big gazebo—and he was smiling. Static electricity, like hell! That was pure sexual desire in its most basic form.

Casey had put her phone in her pocket before she left the house, and she could feel it buzzing. She stepped back to let the movie star pass, then answered it. “Stacy!” she said in happiness at hearing her half sister's voice. “When will you get here? Want me to meet you at the airport?”

“No. I'm, uh, Casey, please don't be mad at me, but I'm not coming back. Not for a while, anyway.”

“But you're supposed to dress the sets and take care of the costumes. The play can't be put on without you.”

“I know you think that, but it can. I called Mom, and her book club is going to give up dissecting the latest prizewinner that they all hate and get their sewing machines out of storage. They're going to make all the clothes for the women. And Dad is going to get the clothes for the men from some place in L.A. My drawings for sets and costumes are fairly complete, so they can be used. And I got an upholstery shop to do the curtains and slipcovers at a really good price.”

“It sounds great,” Casey said, “but I will miss
you
.”

“Sure about that? From what I heard, you and Tate Landers are the talk of the town. Did you really bawl him out onstage in front of everyone?”

“Sort of.” Casey didn't want to talk about that. “Why are you staying in D.C.?”

“Because I'm falling in love with a man.”

“What?! Who? Where? When? How?”

Stacy laughed. “Remember I told you that I was going out to dinner with Kit's son Rowan? He picked me up, but he brought his cousin Nate Taggert with him. And well, Rowan was a bit too serious for my taste. But Nate was funny and charming and very interesting.”

“I take it he's the one?”

“Yes! It's only been a week, but we've hardly been out of each other's sight for the whole time. He's wonderful! He got me a job decorating an apartment here for another of his relatives. I'm sorry, but I can't leave now. Please tell me you understand.”

“Of course I do—and I envy you.”

“You're living a few feet from Tate Landers and you envy
me
?”

“He's a jerk.”

“Oh, no. Tell me that isn't true. His movies are so great. He makes the whole theater sizzle. What dreadful thing has he done? Has he come on to you?”

“No. I mean, he nearly electrocuted me, but it's more what he's done to someone else. His brother-in-law is here and—”

“What do you mean, he electrocuted you? With what? A Taser gun? Casey, this sounds serious.”

“It wasn't like that. I sort of called him a vampire and he put his hand on my neck and it hurt, that's all.”

“Choking? I'm calling the sheriff. You need protection.”

“No!” Casey said. “It was just his fingertip. That's all he used.”

“Oh,” Stacy said. “Tate Landers touched you with his fingertip and you tingled so badly you were in pain?”

“That isn't the way it was. Not exactly, anyway. It was—” Casey laughed. “I do miss you! Bring your boyfriend here. You can redecorate your mom's sunroom. It's looking a little shabby.”

It was a town joke that when Stacy was studying interior design she'd practiced by redoing every room in her parents' house—repeatedly. “All of you will do fine without me. And Casey…” She paused. “I know you can handle the props.”

“Oh, no! I can't cook and play Elizabeth
and
deal with the props.”

“Did you just say what I thought you did?
You
are playing Elizabeth?”

“I think so. Tate asked me to and I—”

“Tate as in Landers?
That
Tate? He personally asked you to play Elizabeth to his Darcy?”

“Yes, but it wasn't like what you're thinking. Yesterday he broke into my house and ate an entire
pie
! The whole thing. Plus, he was upstairs in my bedroom.”

Stacy was silent.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes. I think you have just lived my every fantasy. Casey, I can see that this guy has impressed you in the wrong way, but when it comes to your cooking, you should have some mercy on us mortals. Remember those little hazelnut orange cakes you made and they disappeared? We said Josh must have taken them. But it was me. I ate every one of them and I lied about it. So cut this guy some slack, will you? I have to go. Nate will be here in minutes and I need to get ready.”

“Wait! What did Kit say when you told him about all this?”

“Kit? Oh…I…You're such a diplomat that I think you should— Uh-oh. I think I hear Nate. Gotta go. I love you bunches and heaps and I'm really, really glad you're my sister. Call me later. Bye.” She clicked off.

“She didn't tell Kit.” Casey's teeth were clenched. “Crap. Double
merde
. I'm going to kill her!”

“Anything I can help with?” Tate asked. He had returned to check on her, it seemed.

“No. It's none of your— Oh, just go away.”

But Tate didn't move. “Did you get bad news?”

Casey was pacing.

He held out his hands as though he meant to put them on her shoulders, but then he dropped them. “Tell me what happened.”

Casey stopped walking. “My sister isn't going to help with the play.”

“You mean Jack's girl?”

“That's Gizzy, and she doesn't belong to Jack or to any other man. It's Stacy.”

“Blonde, very pretty? Interior designer?”

“When did you meet her?”

“I didn't. My sister knows her and has spent the last several months trying to fix me up with her.” There was a wooden bench nearby and Tate motioned to it. “Sit down and tell me what's going on.”

Casey sat. “You're too late. Stace is falling in love with some guy in D.C. and she's staying there. She's turned over the costumes to her mother and she wants
me
to look after the props. And absolutely worse, I don't think she's told Kit about any of this.”

“You're afraid of him?” Tate sat down at the far end of the bench.

“Not like you mean. He's a great guy, but this is too much—for him and me. Cooking, acting, props. I didn't even get breakfast this morning.”

Tate reached into his pocket and withdrew a fat bar in a wrapper that proclaimed it was all protein and gave a person limitless energy.

Casey took it, tore off the paper, and bit into it. “I hope you know that these things are mainly sugar and very bad for you. They're downright lethal.”

“Sounds like what my publicist says about me.”

Casey couldn't help a laugh, and that made her relax a bit. “Kit is going to be one unhappy director because he really likes Stacy. They worked together in D.C. and here in the Big House. He even introduced her to his son in D.C.”

“That she's staying to be with Kit's son should make him happy.”

Casey looked at Tate. “He showed up at dinner with his cousin and she liked the cousin better.”

“Ah,” Tate said. “The plot thickens. Maybe I can—”

He was cut off by the squeals of four girls who sprang out of the bushes. “You
are
here,” one said. “My mom auditioned to be Elizabeth.”

“And my sister did,” another said. “Is it true that you went to her dressing room and tried to French-kiss her but she told you no?”

“My cousin said you pushed her down on a sofa and tried to put your hand down her dress.”

Two men wearing tan uniforms came rushing forward. “Sorry, sir. They got past us. The fence will be up by tomorrow.”

The men took the arms of the girls and began to pull them away.

“Wait!” Tate got up and walked to them. “In the house, I have a whole box of DVDs of my last movie. Any of you want a copy?”

The girls started squealing and talking at the same time.

Tate looked over their heads, gave an apologetic shrug to Casey, then led the group toward the house.

Casey stood up, tried to gather her courage, and went down the path to the gazebo.