Summer with a Star (Second Chances Book 1)

by Farmer, Merry

  “I guess so.” Spence smiled, slipping his arm around Tasha’s shoulders and pulling her closer.

  To the side, Jenny laughed out loud as Simon led her and the crowd down to the beach where the movie was about to start. Their security escort for the evening, Duke, nodded to Spence as if he should follow the crowd.

  “Looks like we’d better go.” Spence excused them from the Furrys.

  They waved goodbye, and Spence nudged Tasha to head down to the energetic crowd on the beach. Simon and Jenny were standing in front of the tall, whitewashed building at the edge of the pier, bathed in light as the projection started.

  “Hold your sweetie close,” Simon told the crowd. “And if there are any scary parts, guys, you know what to do.” He gave the crowd a saucy wink that sparked a round of cat-calls and laughter.

  Spence directed Tasha to the back of the audience, taking her hand as they sat down. “I’m not sure if I should thank Simon or wring his neck,” he said.

  “I know which I vote for,” Tasha said. She squirmed to find a comfortable way to sit in the sand, but she was fairly certain it wasn’t the accommodations that were causing the itch down her back.

  “I dunno,” Spence reasoned. “With him and Jenny soaking up all the attention, no one is paying any to us back here.”

  “Good point,” she said.

  He leaned closer. “Which means we could make out in the back row if we wanted to.”

  Tasha laughed. Even that didn’t draw much attention as Jenny circled around the side of the audience, handing out business cards and telling people she was the Closer of the Kennebunks. She fit the role to a tee.

  Tasha didn’t know where she fit.

  As the movie played—a classic action flick from the 80s that she had loved as a child and still loved now—Spence held her against his side. She could almost cuddle with him. It almost felt right. But almost wasn’t enough. All she could think as the action on the screen played out was that in another twenty years, it would be Spence who everyone watched with avid nostalgia. His face would be the one that reminded them of hot summer nights and dates to the movies. Did she really want to share her man with the entire world? Jenny was strong enough to tackle something like that without blinking, but she was not Jenny.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Spence said as they headed back to the house after the movie was over.

  Simon and Jenny had stayed behind. Few places stayed open late on the pier, but Simon had convinced the ice cream stand to open up again, and he promised to buy out the entire stock and pay double so that all of the movie-watchers, his new best friends, could have free ice cream. Before Spence and Tasha got halfway down the beach, music was turned on over a loudspeaker, and people started dancing.

  “I don’t really feel the need to make more noise than we already have,” Tasha said. If she never found herself in the thick of a crowd again, it would be too soon.

  Spence caught her hand in the dark and squeezed it. He didn’t let it go as they continued walking. “Simon likes attention.”

  “Tell me something I haven’t figured out already,” she answered.

  “All right,” he said. “How about what that nice couple said back there? Bob and Lois?”

  She scrambled to recall the conversation, but nothing stood out.

  “What they said about filming on the east coast giving me the chance to be nearer to you.”

  Tasha went hot and cold at once. She drew in a slow breath. Dear God, but the temptation was strong. How awesome would it be to have a movie star boyfriend on call?

  And how big of a fool would it make him to have a short, boring teacher for a girlfriend.

  “It would be nice,” she said. The second the words were out of her mouth, she cringed. What a cop-out. She should just admit the truth to him—that it would never work, that Jenny was the sort who belonged with a movie star, not her, that Spence would get bored—and move on.

  Except that she didn’t want that to be the truth. She might not be the most exciting girl on the beach, but she damn sure wasn’t going to be the woman who let a man’s opinion of her define who she was. Brad had taught her that much, if nothing else.

  “You’re still quiet,” Spence said.

  “I’m incredibly tired,” she answered, working to sound casual.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, Simon will do that to you.”

  “Jenny too.”

  A thought struck her, and she stared up at Spence in the moonlight. “He’s not going to jerk her around and break her heart, is he?”

  Spence didn’t answer right away. It was a bad sign. “I can never tell with Simon.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” she ribbed him.

  “No, I mean it,” he went on. “Simon is a profoundly decent guy under it all, but he’s a ham. He wants everyone to love him. Probably because of something in his childhood.”

  “Did you know him when he was a kid?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “We met while filming years ago and hit it off. He’s always been a wild one, but I’ve never known him to willingly hurt a girl.” He paused, then said, “I think he’ll be fine.”

  “It’s Jenny I’m concerned about,” Tasha said.

  Spence smiled at her. In the moonlight, with the soft sound of waves slipping across the sand all around them, that smile wrapped itself around her heart like it would never let go. She wasn’t sure she wanted it to. Just like she wasn’t sure she could handle it if he became a part of her.

  “Jenny will be fine too,” he said.

  “She’d better.”

  But it wasn’t concern for her friend that sent tremors through her gut. Jenny would land on her feet. Tasha wasn’t so sure she would.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The more everything came right in Spence’s mind, the more something else seemed wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it. The movie had been surprisingly enjoyable the night before. Tasha had cuddled with him, even resting her head on his shoulder a few times. Few people had bothered them with Simon there to draw focus. So why did he feel like he was losing?

  He woke up early after having trouble sleeping, and went for a run on the beach to try to figure things out. Nothing. Nothing but warm muscles and the salt breeze in his lungs. That in itself wasn’t half bad, all things considered.

  When he got back to the house, Simon was in the kitchen, fixing coffee.

  “You’re up early.” Spence spoke softly as he entered the room.

  “Jesus!” Simon gasped and flinched.

  It didn’t bode well. Spence gave him a quick look-over. Fully dressed, clean shaven, shoes instead of flip-flops. He checked the hallway, and sure enough, Simon’s bag rested by the door.

  “You’re leaving,” Spence said, more angry than he thought he’d be at the prospect.

  Simon blew out a breath, ran a hand through his hair, and gave Spence a guilty look. Rather than answering, he shifted to pull two mugs from the cupboard.

  “You want some coffee, mate?” he asked.

  Spence crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the counter. “Yeah. Right after you tell me why you’re sneaking out first thing in the morning.”

  Simon busied himself setting out two mugs and measuring sugar into each one. “I can’t do it,” he said at length.

  “Do what?” There was enough frustration in his friend’s expression that Spence wanted to help, but not so much that he wouldn’t punch him if he didn’t like the answer.

  Simon shrugged. “I thought you were mental when you told me you were spending the entire summer on the coast of Maine. Right when things were going so well for you.”

  Spence narrowed his eyes, trying to see Simon’s point. “I like it here. A lot.”

  “I know,” Simon said. “That’s why Yvonne sent me here to stir you up. She thinks you’re getting too comfortable.”

  Spence huffed a laugh. “Leave it to Yvonne to not want me to be comfortable.”

  “It’s not that,” Simon defende
d her. He paused to pour coffee as it finished brewing. “She sees what I saw.”

  “Which is?”

  “That fame is a tough business. That you’ve got to keep the public interested or they’ll stop buying tickets. And once the public loses interest, producers lose interest.”

  “One summer is hardly going to plunge me into obscurity,” Spence argued and took a steaming mug from Simon when it was offered. “And even if it did, I’m beginning to think that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

  Simon pointed at him with the spoon he had used to stir his coffee. “And that’s the heart of the problem.” He set his spoon aside. “Yvonne wants me to push you to sign on for Second Chances. It’s a good part with lots of potential, and it will take you out of L.A. while still keeping you in the business.”

  “Is that Yvonne’s argument or yours?” He sipped his coffee. It was as bitter as his feelings toward Yvonne at that moment.

  “That is her argument. This is mine.” Simon turned to face him squarely, looking him in the eyes. “You sign on for Second Chances and I’ll sign too.”

  Spence’s brow rose. “What, are we in middle school or something? You take soccer after school and I’ll sign up too?”

  “I’m serious, mate,” Simon went on. “I like the idea of the show, and I like the idea of doing something different.”

  “Like what? Splashing your name across the east coast now that the west coast is getting tired of your antics?”

  He meant for his jab to be a joke. Simon’s face hardened. He sipped his coffee, sullen and silent.

  Spence narrowed his eyes. “What’s up? Really.”

  Simon shook his head, taking another swallow from his mug. “I thought you were a fool to come out here, but the last few days have been fantastic.” He broke into a smile, one of those rare gems that was truly Simon and not some character he put on.

  “You’re certainly having a good time,” Spence prompted him to go on.

  Simon swirled his coffee around in his mug. “They shouldn’t call this house Sand Dollar Point, they should call it Identity Crisis Point.” He met Spence’s eyes. “I thought I’d come up here and check to see if you were done having your little identity crisis and if you were ready to come back to the real world, but now….”

  “Now you got a glimpse of what the real world actually is,” Spence finished.

  Simon smiled and shook his head. “I really like your girl, Tasha. She suits you.”

  Spence couldn’t help but smile. “I like her. I love her.”

  “Yeah, I know. Anyone can see it. It looks good on you.” Simon rubbed his forehead. “Yvonne likes her too, but she wanted me to try to convince you to get rid of her.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m not gonna do it.”

  “Good. That way you get to keep your head on your shoulders and your pretty face intact.”

  Simon sent him a wary laugh. “Hold on to her, Spence,” he said, rare seriousness behind his words. “She’s the kind of girl you keep. So’s Jenny.”

  Spence arched an eyebrow. Somehow he thought they’d reached the crux of the matter. “You two sure seemed to get along well yesterday. Or should I say last night?”

  The sheepish grin that filled Simon’s face was all the proof Spence needed of what had happened after he and Tasha had gone to bed. There had been some noises in the night—all night.

  “She’s brilliant,” Simon said, though he didn’t seem happy about it. “Perfect in every way. Funny, clever, gorgeous face, killer body. She’s flexible, mate, very flexible.” The knowing glint in Simon’s eyes banished whatever doubt Spence would have had about the two of them spending the night together. “But it was afterwards,” Simon went on. “When she fell asleep and everything was quiet. She felt so good in my arms, smelled so sweet. The waves outside were peaceful, and for a second I thought to myself, all is right with the world. I could seriously get used to this.”

  “I know that feeling well.” Spence smiled, glance flickering up as if he could see through the ceiling to where Tasha was curled up, asleep in his bed.

  “That’s why I have to leave.” Simon brought him crashing back down to earth.

  “So you’re just going to run out on her? Ditch her? She’s just some one night stand for you?” He shouldn’t be so angry about what they both knew happened every day, but Jenny was Tasha’s best friend. Tasha would be hurt by this too.

  “She’s not just some groupie fling,” Simon argued. “I swear, she’s not. That’s the problem.”

  Spence played through the last few days in his mind, searching for clues as to whether his friend was lying. He wasn’t. Spence had never seen Simon give so much attention to one girl and smile so genuinely at everything she did. He had to take Simon at face value when he said Jenny was different.

  “All right.” He nodded. “So stay and tell her that. Stay and see where things go. If you’re really going to take the Second Chances gig if I do, then you’ll be on the same coast with her. You’ll have a chance to see if things can work out.”

  Simon shook his head. “That works for you, mate. You’re a decent guy with a good head on your shoulders.”

  “And you are?” He braced for what Simon might say.

  “An utter fuck-up, mate, and we both know it.” Simon drained the last of his coffee and set the mug in the sink.

  “Being a fuck-up is nothing you can’t change,” Spence told him.

  Simon shook his head. “Maybe for you, but it wouldn’t work for me.”

  “Simon, you could—”

  “Do you know what I was doing when Yvonne found me in New York last week?”

  Spence arched an eyebrow, dread crawling down his back.

  “I’d just rented a penthouse and had half a dozen professional girls and some very expensive blow delivered. The lines were drawn, literally and figuratively, when she stormed in and broke the whole thing up, sent the girls packing and flushed the coke.”

  Spence’s chest seized up, caught between fury and fear. “I see,” was the only thing he could squeeze out.

  “And the kicker is, I was so grateful to see her that I broke down and cried. I fucking cried, mate, right there in Yvonne’s arms.”

  “She cares about you,” Spence said, rubbing the hitch in his chest at the implications of everything his friend was telling him. “I care about you.”

  “God knows why,” he said and pushed away from the counter. “I can’t risk someone as perfect as Jenny caring about me too. So I’m going.”

  Spence put his mug down and followed Simon out to the hall where his luggage waited. “Where are you gonna go?” he asked, keeping his voice down.

  Simon shook his head. “Not here. Not L.A. either. And definitely not New York. I need to get my head screwed on straight.”

  Spence huffed an ironic laugh. “That’s exactly why I told myself I was coming out here for the summer, to get my head screwed on straight.”

  Simon smiled. It was a good sign. “If it worked for you—and it has, mate, it really has—then maybe it will work for me. All I know is that I’ve got to go.”

  Someone stirred upstairs. A door opened, and seconds later, the bathroom door shut. Panic filled Simon’s face, enough that it made Spence want to punch someone on his friend’s behalf. The only person he could punch, though, would be Simon himself.

  “Gotta go,” Simon whispered, fleeing for the front door.

  Spence followed him out to the porch, not surprised to see a car waiting. Mitch was already up and in uniform, looking as rock-solid and forbidding as ever.

  “Tell Jenny I said goodbye,” Simon turned to say when he reached the bottom of the porch stairs. “Try to explain how much better off she is without me.”

  “Okay,” Spence sighed. “But you’re a fool and a coward.”

  Simon grinned. “Love you too, mate.”

  The thing is, Spence was pretty sure he meant it. He knew that he did too.

  Simon disappeared into the
car, which rolled around the roses and headed away. Spence nodded to Mitch, then headed back into the house. Walked right in like he owned it, like he was the grounded one, with roots under him and a future to look forward to. And he liked it, he wanted it. Simon was a whirlwind on so many levels, but he’d brought one point home hard—not everyone in their line of work wanted the same things.

  He was doubly certain of that when Tasha came wandering down the stairs, hair morning-tousled, rubbing sleep and confusion off of her beautiful face.

  “Was that Simon?” she asked when she reached the hall.

  “Yeah, it was. Want some coffee?” He started into the kitchen.

  Tasha stopped dead at the end of the stairs, staring at the door. A jumble of rage and devastation pinched her face. Spence paused.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Did he leave?”

  “Yes.”

  All that emotion turned on him.

  “You let him leave?” she asked.

  Uh oh.

  “He needed to go. It’s a long story,” Spence said, suspecting it wouldn’t fly.

  He was right. Tasha’s emotions coalesced into towering fury as she crossed her arms and glared at him.

  “After the way he and Jenny were carrying on last night, you let him skip out on her?”

  “I couldn’t exactly make him stay. Come into the kitchen and have some coffee.” Maybe coffee would help her see the reason of the situation.

  She followed him into the kitchen, but reason? Not so much.

  “How could you, Spence? How could you just let him screw her and run?” Tasha scolded him in a tight whisper.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he defended himself.

  “You know they slept together last night.” Her whisper lowered as if there were children present.

  “Yes, and they had every right to, last time I checked.”

  Tasha hissed and shook her head. “Is that your celebrity entitlement speaking or just your dick?”

  He had to grip the edge of the counter to keep his sudden rush of anger in check. Coffee. Focus on making coffee. He reached for a clean mug for her and started pouring.