Page 61

OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFETIME

Tessa: Howdy, farmer Wilde.

Chris: Somebody’s jealous.

Tessa: I’m at that cute coffee shop in Chelsea you love. Who’s jealous now?

Chris: I’m at a coffee shop next to a bakery across the street from a bistro.

Chris: Who’s jealous now?

Tessa: How? Isn’t there like six people in town?

Tessa: Gotta go. Call in a bit.

I glanced up from my phone to see a dozen retirees playing checkers while they talked over coffee.

At this point, I would have thought I’d recognize someone in the crowd.

At some point, I’d have to look up the actual population of Firefly.

Tessa might joke, but I had questions about this small town’s commerce.

Staring into my coffee, I swore I could still smell the smoke from the campfire.

As soon as I thought about the steaks, my mind turned to Bobby and our escapades in the tent.

I’d claim it was a romantic getaway, but I couldn’t help but snort at the hilarity of our sex lives.

How I didn’t get hurled off the air mattress defied physics.

Though, next time he spent the night, I’d be ready.

Mental note: pick up condoms at the pharmacy.

I stared at the clipboard. At the top, I had scribbled, “Heaven Help Us.” After a week of rehearsals, we had reduced it from a dozen to a couple of pages.

The kids had memorized their lines… mostly.

They remembered their cues… mostly. It had gone from a madhouse to an adorably cute production of a timeless classic.

How did I know we were heading in the right direction?

Laurel no longer twirled her hair like a fiend.

It wasn’t long before my phone vibrated. I responded without checking the screen. “Chris speaking.”

“I’ve got news.”

“Why hello, Tessa. My day is going great. Thanks for asking.”

“Hush. I don’t care how your day is going.” In all our years together, she had been direct but never rude. Something had gotten her worked up. “Cause what I’m about to say is going to make it a thousand times better.”

I leaned back in my chair, taking a sip of my coffee. I wanted her to percolate while I dragged out the suspense. Meanwhile, one of the ladies playing checkers cheered for her victory.

“You’re just going to leave me hanging, aren’t you?”

Yup! “I have to make sure you earn??—”

“Centurions 2 has been green-lit.”

I bolted upright, my coffee spilling over the lip of the cup. I hissed as it seeped into my jeans. The entire room turned in my direction, and I gave an awkward smile and wave. Yup, they all thought I was a weirdo.

“I know, right?”

I grabbed napkins from the dispenser on the table, patting my lap dry.

“That’s amazing.” Financially, this role could mean I’d never work another day in my life.

I couldn’t deny returning as Valiant would be the opportunity of a lifetime.

I'd be on the front page of every newspaper and magazine.

It'd be... the same thing all over again.

It was another role that'd be forgotten in a year.

After the last month, I realized I wanted something more.

“I don’t want to give you numbers until the ink dries, but we could be looking at triple.”

“Triple?” I lived a privileged life. There was no denying it. I tried to keep myself grounded, but if they were offering triple, we had entered eccentric yacht money.

“Who’s the best?” She loved a good rhetorical question. “I am. I know. You’ll need to head back to the city and pack up. The sooner you get here, the sooner??—”

I spoke before thinking. “I can’t.”

The line went quiet for a moment. I’m sure Tessa gave me the finger or had to pick her jaw up off the ground. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“The play. We’re two weeks from opening night.”

“You’re staying for a play? A middle school play?”

Tessa had always been a loyal friend. She’d go to hell and back for me, and more than once, she had. I found it ironic that the same devotion made her blind to my commitment to these kids. There was no way I’d go back on my promise, not even for triple.

“I want to be clear.” She cleared her throat. “You want me to tell the studio that you’re currently engaged in a project and need time?”

“I have the best agent in the business. You can send me the forms. I can look them over. I don’t need to be there just so they can have a photo op at the signing. If they want me enough to pay triple, then they’ll have to deal.”

“Wilde.” We had moved to last names. That was worse than full names. “If you’re not coming here, I will drag my ass to the middle of nowhere, Maine, and drag you out kicking and screaming.”

“Ker Sha Ker, I’m losing my signal.”

“Wilde.”

“Reception in the barn is bad. Oh, look, a horse is having a baby.”

“I hate you right now.” She hung up.

Did I just jeopardize a multi-million-dollar contract to put on a middle school production of Peter Pan?

Did I put my future on the line because I barely had time to think about life with Bobby?

Questions about my future surfaced the longer I spent here.

Did I want to squeeze into another suit and cape?

It’d be easy to fall into the role, but was it what I wanted?

“And here I thought you might be one of those Hollywood douchebags.”

I glanced up to see a young woman holding a small plate.

Apron. Coffee stains. Exhausted. This had to be Rita, the proprietor of Wired.

She didn’t ask for permission as she pulled out a chair and sat down.

At this stage, I didn’t expect her to. If I were out in public, I might as well have a neon sign saying, “Join me.”

“Thanks?”

“Ignore me. I eavesdrop on everybody.” I appreciated the honesty. “You’re staying for the play?”

I nodded. I had made a promise to Laurel and, more importantly, the kids. They needed to say their lines, or at least try. Heck, even Tinker Bell had stopped gnawing on her cast mates. I’d disappoint myself if I called it quits now.

“I need to see this through.”

“See.” She gestured at me. “Not a douchebag. Glad to see I’m wrong for once. How are the munchkins doing?”

“The play is coming together,” I said. “Mostly.”

“I remember middle school. It was the first after-school activity I did when my family moved here.”

I raised an eyebrow. Someone in the community who couldn’t trace their lineage to the founder? It made sense, but I thought Simon might be the only outsider to penetrate their secret society.

“You’re not a local?”

When Rita shrugged, a strand of hair fell from her messy bun, covering her face.

She gave it a quick blow, pushing it aside.

Since our date at the cabin, I wanted to talk to Simon and ask about his transition from the city to a small town.

But like Edward said, the town somehow had a way of providing trail magic.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Mr. Wilde, I’m a married woman.” She batted her eyelashes, flashing a grin. I had a feeling that Rita would eat me alive. “Oh, you’re not asking to whisk me and three kids off to a life of luxury?”

“What would Mr. Rita say?”

She chuckled. “He’d be thankful for the first full night of sleep in eight years.”

Rita tore off a piece of a cinnamon bun before pushing the plate in my direction. After sampling the whoopie pies, I wouldn’t turn down any baked goods in Firefly. I picked it up, eyeing the white sugary goodness.

“The play is going great. The kids are doing… they’re doing better. But I still have to worry about selling tickets. I haven’t even??—”

Rita laughed. “Tickets. That’s the biggest scam in the town.”

“Does nobody buy them?”

Rita spun in her seat, turning to the checker players. “Have any of you bought tickets for Peter Pan?” They all grumbled. “Show of hands. How many of you are going?” My jaw tightened, and I tensed at the question. When every hand shot up, I let out a long sigh.

Rita returned to the table, resting on her elbows. “Every year, they panic they won’t sell out. Then there’s standing room, and people get there early for good seats. You were at the spaghetti dinner—we turn out, and we turn up for our own.”

Our own.

Tessa would send a dozen text messages before the end of the day, each one nudging me to come home.

It might be important to the studio that I sign the contract immediately.

In our meeting, I’d be shocked if they gave their names.

Here, I had a list of people depending on me.

Somewhere in my gut, I knew I had made the right decision.

“Thanks, Rita.”

Her head tilted to the side with an eyebrow pushed far up her forehead. “I have no idea what I did, but you’re welcome.”

Firefly had bought me a few days to figure out the rest of my life. I had the chance of a lifetime on the table, and while I should be elated, I had an uneasy feeling. It was time to get serious and figure out what I wanted.

Rose insisted I had to get a bottle of wine.

She and Edward had been nothing short of amazing hosts.

I had been hesitant at first, not having shared a place since I left my parents' house.

But as I listened to the gentle banter between the two of them, I imagined if, in decades, this could be me and Bobby.

When I pulled up to the house, I spotted Bobby’s truck. Did Rose have him fixing the burner on her stove that never lit? Or maybe she needed the door hung on the barn. None of the work she requested had been necessary, but I think they liked having him around. Almost as much as I did.

I got out of the car, inspecting the bottle of wine.

Firefly had a thousand hidden treasures, but its wine selection was not one of them.

If I didn’t want to drink from a box, I had three choices.

I wouldn’t be surprised if someone in town made their own wine and sold it.

I’d have to inquire about “the good stuff” at the next Farmers' Market.