Ashley wondered how hard it would be to get a different Realtor.

Chapter 14

The beach house had a crazy layout with an awkward view. No balcony, no porch, and the guest room had the nice view overlooking the water instead of the master. Inside, they could smell the ocean better than they could see it.

When he stood outside looking at the water, Caz’s eyes brightened. “I’d like a holiday by the water.”

Diane jumped all over the gleam. “There are lots of interested parties for this house. You’ll have to act fast with a strong bid to win this one. We can put down earnest money right away and close by early next month.”

“He’s only begun to look.” Ashley shook her head. She wasn’t sure what earnest money was, but she was sure Caz wasn’t ready for this decision.

“This isn’t it,” Caz said.

“Now, don’t be too hasty. You need to think about what you want, not what your girlfriend wants.”

“It isn’t what I want,” Ashley said. “The layout of this house is ridiculous.”

“It has character and charm.”

Ashley bit out firmly, “He doesn’t want it.”

Caz shot her a sideways look and quirked up a corner of his mouth. He was the first to turn back to the car, his arm slung over her shoulders. Traveling north on 110, Ashley sketched highlights of what she’d seen in her notebook while Caz and Diane argued.

“I’ll know it when I see it,” Caz said.

“That’s not tremendously helpful.”

“It is to me,” Caz said. “Isn’t it, Ashley?”

“Yes. Don’t rush the decision.” Caz was spending a fortune by anyone’s standards. Diane pushing him wasn’t helping.

“Fine,” Diane said. “Call me when you at least pick an area of town and I’ll find out what’s available there. You can’t sit on things out here. The California market is not like the market in England.” They’d met Diane on set earlier that morning. It was now four o’clock. Skipping lunch had fueled everyone’s annoyance.

“Want to eat dinner at my place?” Ashley poked Caz in the arm. “We can go over the photos on my laptop. I have some design books here. You can flip through and see which styles you like.”

He nodded. “I could rent, and you could draw blueprints for me.”

Ashley smiled. “I couldn’t draft you a tent. It’ll be like seven years before I could design something for you.”

“There is no advantage to building new,” Diane said stiffly.

“Would you mind dropping us off in Fairville?” Ashley asked Diane.

“Sure.” Diane looked somewhat pleased—probably because her dad’s house was fifteen minutes closer to their current location compared to the studio, meaning she could dump them out that much quicker.

The car braked in front of Dad’s mansion and Diane put the car in park, her gaze assessing the property while she pressured Caz. “I know all about your parents from the news. So this is definitely the time for you to buy your own place. Give them freedom with their shifting life plans.”

Without responding, Caz shoved the door with one hand. He left the door open behind him and walked over to the pedestrian gate.

Diane glanced from Dad’s house to Ashley and back. She spoke with her head tilted and her gaze glued to the mansion. “Anytime you want to go out again, let me know. Caz has my cell, and you both can reach me twenty-four, seven.”

“Thanks.”

“So nice to meet you, dear, I know you were a great help to Caspian today.”

***

“Nice place.” Caz followed her in and across the marble toward the kitchen.

“Thanks, it’s my dad’s.” Ashley tossed her bag on the granite counter, breathing in the smell of Dad’s kitchen—lemon cleaner and disuse. It smelled nothing like Mom’s. “Mom and I live on a much more normal, suburban scale in north Houston.”

His mouth twisted and something hard entered his eyes. “Do your parents still see each other, or no because your mum’s in Texas?”

“Mom usually spends summers with me. She’s a teacher, so she has the time off.”

“She always stays here? With you and your dad?”

“Yeah, they’re friends.”

Caz snorted, disbelief written over his face as if she’d said a politician had been faithful.

“No, really, they get along great. She’s visiting only occasionally this summer because of my job, but she used to stay most of the summer. What? Your parents don’t get along?”

“Dad comes around between girlfriends. He can’t be alone and Mum takes him back every time, no matter what he’s done.” His voice sounded blasé, but his fists clenched for a moment and frustrated rage flickered through his eyes.

Ashley made a sympathetic humming noise, but didn’t comment.

Caz looked around again, his shoulders relaxing. “Why are you working as an assistant if you live here? It can’t pay that much.”

“I’m an unpaid intern.”

His eyebrows rose high on his forehead, meeting the edge of his lighter blond bangs, and he said, “You take a lot of crap for a volunteer.”

“Don’t I know it.” Ashley opened the fridge and removed a covered dish holding two steaks marinating in one of Marissa’s recipes. The steaks would’ve been grilled last night, but Dad hadn’t been able to make dinner again, so Caz was in luck. She also scooped out the bowl of salad she’d put together: spinach, apples, cranberries, and bleu cheese crumbles. She carried the dishes through the French doors to the tiled patio. “Do you want a new house, historic, or somewhere in between?”

“I don’t know.” He used the handle to raise the lid on the grill.

“Okay, let’s go at this from a different direction. Dracula or werewolf?”

“What does—”

“Just answer.”

“Dracula, but—”

“That means gothic over woodsy nature.” Ashley fiddled with the knobs to get the grill to the perfect temperature, speared the steaks, and tossed them on. Marinade dripped; the fire hissed and emitted a smoky, citrus aroma. After handing Caz the barbeque fork, she said, “Turn them when they brown. Burn mine.”

He nodded and held onto the fork when his phone beeped. He lifted the phone in his left hand so he could read the screen. He frowned and his fingers tightened.

“What? We’re needed on set?”

“No, Mum’s texting me about her argument with Dad—again.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’m so glad my parents get along; that must be really hard.” She winced in sympathy, but left him alone. Inside the kitchen, she gathered a couple of cans of soda, iced tea, and water, not knowing what he’d like, and having a Southern need to comfort with food. She put the tray on the table under the umbrella and held up a glass of iced tea, waited for his shudder of rejection before taking a sip of the cold, sweet drink. “It’s fun to eat outside. We don’t get to in Houston, not with our heat.”

“We have the rain, but the temperature’s mild.”

“Cotton candy or apple tart?”

“Candy.”

“What don’t you like about the trailer?”

“Noisy, too small, and too many visitors with keys. No privacy.”

“Are you firing that Realtor?”

“Absolutely.”

***

A lean crew was headed up to Mt. Whitney for a location shoot. They’d be gone about three days, and the remaining crew, Ashley included, would hang back and work in the warehouse. Ashley didn’t mind, though. She hoped to spend some time with Dad this weekend, and she needed a break from Caz to get her head back on straight. Caz couldn’t be as appealing as she was starting to think.

On the mountain, three bad guys were going to hold Caz’s character hostage. After escaping, Caz’s character would hike the trail and spend a cold miserable night by the lake. In reality, the cast and crew would stay in climate-controlled cabins so the trip wouldn’t be as rough as it sounded, but Ashley shuddered for them. The air thinned in the mountains and the temperature dropped—not pleasant. When she was a kid, Dad had driven her to some of the scenic parks and she’d gotten nosebleeds and dizzy from the altitude. She was better off in LA, which, like Houston, lay much closer to sea level.