Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Why not?”
“We weren’t close. We didn’t talk every day or even every week. We weren’t that kind of friends. I would have never shared a confidence with him I didn’t want everyone to know. We were more like really good acquaintances. Does that make sense?”
“Of course.”
“I mean, when I knew I would see him, I always looked forward to it, you know? We got along so well, and being an actor himself, he understood that desire to have people love you and love your work and want them to ignore you in public at the same time.”
“When you were together, you clicked and it was easy.”
“Yeah. That’s it. That’s it exactly.”
“I think some of what you’re feeling at the moment is guilt, don’t you think?”
“Guilt?”
“You didn’t want to make the movie about Voss unless he changed it, and knowing what you know now, that you might never see him again, you feel bad that you didn’t give him a blanket yes.”
He nodded.
“I didn’t know him, but was he the kind of guy to let that stop him?”
“No. Kit was probably making calls as soon as he got in his car.”
“Well, then let that go too.”
Deep breath in and then a long exhale from him.
“And you are allowed to grieve, Ash. You’ll miss him, and that’s enough.”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad you had him in your life.”
He turned into me then, arm over my shoulder, hugging me tight. “He had a good heart.”
I hugged him back, giving what comfort I could in the face of loss. “If Voss did this, he won’t get away with it. My boss would never let that happen.”
After a moment, he whispered, “Good.”
EIGHT
Ihad Ash take a shower while I called down to housekeeping and had new bed linens sent up again. Second time in less than twenty-four hours. I’m sure they were wondering what we were doing that the sheets needed to be changed so often. If they only knew that the first time, I was worried about us getting cooties from the guy Damien sent up to our room. Not that it could happen again. I had Owen mess with our keycards and reprogram the keypad on the door so ours would work and no others’. Even a card from the maid, or an override, or the manager’s passkey would no longer open our door. I was taking no chances with Ash’s safety. Of course, when we left, they would need to reprogram the card reader on the door, but Owen assured me it would be a bit of a nuisance and nothing more.
“You know if it’s easy for him, it’s gonna be hell for them,” Nash told me. “Maybe leave them a note that if they can’t figure it out, to give Owen a call.”
It was the polite thing to do.
I was going to order room service, but Ash wanted to get out. Even though it was dark and dreary outside, walking around downtown, historic Castine sounded like fun to him. He was a fan of ghost stories, believed in the occult, and hoped to find some antiques to ship to his mother, who, as a high school English teacher, was always wanting to take things into her class to give her students something new to look at and think about.
I was waiting on him, and when he came out into the living room where I was flipping channels, I gave him my best wolf whistle.
“Are you serious?” He chuckled.
“Let’s see the ass, because the package looks good.”
He rolled his eyes but made the turn for me anyway, and yes, his ass looked amazing in his tight tan jeans hugging his powerful thighs and long legs. His white dress shirt under a gray button-up sweater vest, and over that, a heavy wool chocolate-brown peacoat really made him look like he was about to model that outfit on a runway. The distressed leather brogue boots were a nice touch, and his sunglasses were ridiculously sexy.
“Aw, man, I’ve got it bad,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Never mind,” I grumbled, getting up. “Come on. I’m gonna pass out soon if I don’t get something to eat.”
“I don’t get to look at you first?”
“What?”
He walked over to me and gestured for me to turn around.
“No, sir, only one of us is a lusted-after movie star,” I said, heading for the door.
He ran to catch up with me and darted in front, barring my way, grinning wickedly.
“Can we go?”
“I like these jeans on you,” he apprised me, circling, “and I might want to borrow these work boots of yours. Very chic yet rugged.”
I stared at him.
“What? They are. And your T-shirt under this heavy shawl-collar cardigan…I love this sweater. I might accidentally put that in my bag.”
“You don’t want it. It’s really old. It’s heavy, and yeah, it’s warm, but also ancient. Plus, c’mere.” He stepped in close, and I held up the collar so he could see the small hole. “I tried smoking clove cigarettes in college and ruined it forever.”