My One and Only E-Book

Iris Morland

• Herausgeber: IRIS MORLAND
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Youngers
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 280

Beschreibung

Fake dating a hot baseball player—what could go wrong?
When aspiring actress Lucy Younger arrives on Hazel Island to film her first movie, she thinks she’s finally caught her big break. What could be better than spending her summer on a beautiful island while catching the attention of her mega-famous costar?
Enter Carter Roberts: baseball player, playboy, and the most obnoxious, arrogant, and sexy man Lucy has ever had the misfortune to meet.
Soon Carter offers her a role she can’t turn down: play his fake girlfriend and make her costar wild with jealousy.
Never one to turn down a dare, Lucy agrees. But when she starts to fall for Carter, suddenly what was just a game becomes all too real.
After a shoulder injury benches him for the season, star pitcher Carter Roberts is set adrift. When he travels to Hazel Island for work, he doesn’t expect to get anything out of it except an extended vacation.
Until he meets a pretty little spitfire who sets his blood aflame with every barb she throws at him. Lucy thinks she’ll be able to resist him after she agrees to their bargain, but Carter knows that when he kisses her, she’ll forget all about her costar.
Carter soon realizes he wants more than this made-up relationship. But unless he tears down the walls surrounding his heart, he’ll lose the only woman who’s ever mattered.

Leseprobe

My One and Only

The Youngers Book 4

Iris Morland

Blue Violet Press LLC

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Enjoy this exclusive excerpt

Also by Iris Morland

About the Author

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

My One and Only (The Youngers Book 4)

Published by Blue Violet Press LLC

Seattle, Washington

Copyright © 2019 by Iris Morland

Cover design by Resplendent Media

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Chapter One

After ten takes that lasted throughout the morning and into the afternoon, Lucy Younger heard her stomach growl so loudly that she was pretty sure anyone within a five-mile radius would’ve heard it, too.

“Cut!” yelled the director, Jim Stanton. Jim had a swath of silver hair that tended to expand outward as the day progressed. Lucy wondered if it was from the humidity, or if Jim’s hair expanded as he got more irritable with every take that he inevitably hated. It was rather like watching a cat fluff out its fur, arching and hissing at some threat.

“That’s a wrap for now,” said Jim. “Go get some lunch.” He shot Lucy a sardonic glance, and she had a feeling he’d heard her stomach growling. Well, if he let them have lunch breaks before three in the afternoon, she wouldn’t be so damn hungry!

Lucy had arrived on Hazel Island in the Puget Sound to film The Last Goodbye a week ago. It was her first movie, and although it was a smaller indie one, it was a huge opportunity for her. If she could stop doing small commercial bits or community theater… her heart did a little happy dance at the thought of becoming a bona fide movie star. Or at the very least, an indie darling.

Lucy grabbed a plate of food, the rest of the cast and crew milling nearby. They had filmed this scene outside, not far from the water, and Lucy inhaled the scent of salt and sand with satisfaction. Coupled with the clear blue summer sky and the warm day, it was impossible not to be happy. She couldn’t stop smiling.

“Lucy!” Erin White, Lucy’s castmate, grabbed Lucy by the elbow. “Did you hear that Hayden Masterson was cast?”

Lucy’s eyes widened. After the film’s original lead actor had dropped out suddenly, everyone had been on pins and needles, waiting to see who would be cast instead. Hayden Masterson was Hollywood’s biggest actor, and after an Oscar nomination this year for a widely acclaimed role, he was the talk of the town.

Lucy had gotten to meet Hayden in person a year ago at a cast party another actress had invited her to. Lucy had been tongue-tied and nervous, but Hayden had gone so far as to ask Lucy about her work and to buy her a drink. He’d been so handsome that Lucy had almost swooned at his feet. When their fingers had brushed after he’d handed her a drink, she’d fallen head over heels for him.

She’d been crushing on him ever since. She even had his photo as her phone’s background, and she might also have bought herself a signed photo from his website for her birthday.

“Are you serious?” said Lucy.

Erin nodded. “I just talked to the casting director. Hayden is going to play Malcolm. He’s coming up here in a few days to start filming!”

Lucy almost staggered, her heart pounding. She clutched at Erin’s arm like Erin was a lifesaver in the middle of the wide ocean. “Are you serious? Hayden Masterson? Are you sure it’s him?” she demanded.

“Yeah, I’m serious!” Erin grabbed Lucy by the shoulders. “Lucy Younger, you’re going to be playing opposite Hayden Masterson. You get to kiss him. This is really happening, girlfriend!”

Lucy’s piece of bread fell off her plate onto the ground, but she didn’t care.

She’d get to see Hayden again. She’d get to know him, to act right alongside him. He wouldn’t just be somebody she dreamed about every night. He wouldn’t just be a handsome man in a photograph, his scrawling signature in the corner of the black-and-white headshot. It’d really be him. She couldn’t believe it.

She didn’t know how the producers had managed to get him to agree to star in this little indie film. Maybe they’d sacrificed a virgin to get him to sign on. Maybe he was bored with the bigger Hollywood movies and wanted something different. Maybe it was because Mercury was in retrograde, and wasn’t that supposed to make things weird in the universe?

“What am I going to do?” Lucy shot Erin a terrified glance.

Erin laughed. “Don’t look at him like you’re going to puke, for one.”

“Am I dreaming? Pinch me. Throw a bucket of ice water on me.”

Erin pinched her so hard that Lucy yelped.

“Okay, okay, it’s real! No more pinching,” said Lucy.

Erin flashed her a grin. A pretty woman with auburn hair and an exuberant laugh, Erin had become Lucy’s friend after they’d had one ridiculous conversation about their favorite cat memes. Erin had a smaller part in the film than Lucy, who’d somehow managed to get the lead role despite not having any movie experience. Lucy’s resume, though, was as long as her arm, with parts in anything her agent could land her: commercials, plays, short indie flicks and everything in between.

Lucy had played everything from a woman dying of cancer to a crazy stalker ex-girlfriend to a dumb blond friend. If you printed out a list of stereotypical roles for women in Hollywood, Lucy had done them all. She’d recently done a commercial where she was a woman suffering from irritable bowel syndrome and had found the perfect medication to treat it. That had been both a highlight and a low point in Lucy’s not-so-illustrious career. It had taken her close to nine years—Lucy had just turned twenty-seven earlier in June—to snag a role like this.

“Ten more minutes and we’re going to start the next scene,” said Jim as he passed by Lucy. “Head over to wardrobe to get changed.”

Lucy wolfed down her food in record time. Checking the time, she realized that she had five minutes to change before Jim would yell at her for being late. She hurried to the costumes trailer without looking where she was going.

As she wrenched open the trailer door, she ran straight into a hard, muscular chest.

“Whoa there,” said a deep male voice, large hands steadying Lucy.

Lucy looked up—and up, and up—to see laughing blue eyes gazing down at her. Although the man wasn’t classically handsome, he was certainly striking with those eyes of his. With his dark hair and cleft chin, he could easily be featured in the pages of a magazine as a fashion model, lounging around in clothing that cost more than Lucy made in a year. Lucy had done a few modeling projects in between acting gigs, and this guy fit the profile exactly. He even smelled expensive.

“I’m used to women throwing themselves at me,” the man drawled, his voice like velvet against Lucy’s skin, “but this is a bit much.” His gaze traveled from her face to her chest before taking a leisurely survey of her entire body.

Lucy blushed, irritation flashing in her eyes. Of course she’d run into some schmuck when she was in a hurry. Hopping away from him, she replied crisply, “I need to get into the trailer.”

He clucked his tongue. “Not even one little sorry for practically running me over?”

Lucy rolled her eyes and tried to push past him. “I’m not a liar, so no, I’m not apologizing because I’m not sorry.”

The man leaned against the door frame, effectively blocking Lucy’s way. Considering he was over a head taller than Lucy’s five-foot-two-inch frame, there was no way she would get around him. She growled under her breath. Why did she always have to deal with the jackasses on set?

Lucy took in the man’s appearance, noting that he wore ripped-up jeans and an old t-shirt. Despite his looks, he wasn’t dressed like anyone important. He looked like he could be some guy who worked behind the scenes. Besides, if he were someone important, she would’ve met him already. Lucy had been introduced to the producers and director the first day she’d arrived on Hazel Island.

This strange man, whoever he was, kept smiling down at her. The smile was slow and heated, and something curled in Lucy’s belly. She ignored it. She didn’t have time for handsome assholes making her life difficult.

“You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you?” he said. “I like a woman with spirit.”

“Cool. I didn’t ask for your opinion. And you’re in my way, in case you didn’t hear me the first time.”

“So you’ve said.”

Lucy crossed her arms. “What’s your deal? Do you enjoy harassing random women?”

“Whoever said anything about harassing?” His smile widened, his teeth flashing.

“If this is how you pick up women, you’re terrible at it.”

“I caught your attention.”

Lucy growled under her breath, and the man laughed. Finally stepping aside, he raised his arm with a flourish. “After you, little spitfire.” Leaning down before she could pass by him, he whispered in her ear, “But when you see me again, try not to throw yourself at me. Men like some mystery.”

Lucy glared daggers at the man’s back as he laughed again and walked back onto set. But soon her costume change provided her with a much-needed distraction, the obnoxious stranger forgotten.

The afternoon’s filming began with a scene with Lucy and Erin on set. Lucy’s character, Miranda, was described as “an overworked career woman whose fiancé left her at the altar three months prior.” In this scene, Miranda told Erin’s character, Layla, how she’d run into her ex-fiancé at the local farmer’s market. It had not gone well.

“He looked good,” said Lucy/Miranda in a voice that became progressively higher-pitched. “Why did he look good? He should’ve gotten fat and sad. But he looked tan! Why is life so unfair?”

“Cut! Cut, cut, cut.” Jim rose from his chair. “You sound like you’re screeching,” he said to Lucy. “This scene should be emotional and funny, but not ridiculous. You’re playing Miranda like she’s a joke. Do you think she’s a joke?”

Lucy blinked. “No, of course not.”

“Then stop playing her like one.”

Out of the corner of Lucy’s eye, she saw someone approach the set. To her immense dismay, it was the obnoxious man from the trailer. Was he stalking her now?

“Are you listening to me?” Jim’s voice brought Lucy back to the present. “We don’t have time to do a million takes because you don’t feel like trying, Miss Younger.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” stammered Lucy. She could feel the obnoxious man’s gaze on her, and she blushed, knowing that he was seeing her get scolded like a five-year-old.

When Jim returned to his director’s chair, Erin whispered to Lucy, “You got this. Jim’s got a stick up his ass.”

As Lucy and Erin did three more takes, Lucy watched as the obnoxious man prowled the set. With his dark hair and rangy build, he reminded Lucy of some predator, like a panther stalking its prey.

She shivered at the thought that he might be stalking her. But why would he? He didn’t know her. He was just some guy who liked to mess around with people. She’d be better off ignoring him entirely.

After the second take, the obnoxious man brought one of the writers a cup of coffee. He must be her assistant. She had no idea why Pamela would have such an annoying assistant, or why he got to dress like a bum at work. Then again, maybe he was more useful as eye candy than actually assisting anyone.

“Do you know who that is?” said Lucy to Erin in between takes.

Erin glanced over at where Lucy had gestured. “Who? That guy?”

“Yeah. I ran into him earlier.”

Erin’s eyes widened, but right as she was about to speak, Jim barked, “We’re doing one last take before we end for the day. Places!”

Lucy almost forgot about the obnoxious man watching her as she worked. Every time she did a scene—no matter how many takes it took—she was reminded of why she’d wanted to be an actress in the first place. Throwing herself into a character, letting herself become someone else, was one of the headiest and most addictive experiences she’d ever known.

For a while, she was no longer Lucy Younger, a nobody actress with too many bills that she needed to pay. Instead, she got to be Miranda Leighton: career woman, CEO, and a woman on a mission to move on from an ex-fiancé who’d broken her heart.

After Lucy’s last line, Jim said, “That’s a wrap for today. Finally, you did a take that didn’t make me want to light myself on fire.”

Lucy barely stifled an incredulous laugh. “Um, thanks?”

But Jim had already turned to talk to someone else. Lucy was thankful to avoid both his backhanded compliments and his wrath.

“Great job on that last take,” said Pamela with a beaming smile. “That’s one of my favorite scenes. I had to fight the other writers to get it included, but I finally prevailed.”

Lucy smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t want Miranda to come off too desperate. I was afraid my performance might be stilted.”

“Not at all. You have a wonderful way of expressing yourself with just your face. I could tell exactly what you were thinking without you saying a word.”

“You are very expressive,” said a voice that made Lucy stiffen.

“Have you met Lucy already?” said Pamela to the obnoxious man.

He smiled that smile that made Lucy want to stomp on his foot. “Oh yes, we’ve met.”

The way he looked at her stoked her wrath. Was he making fun of her? Lucy had put up with too many smarmy actors who’d assumed she was nothing but an easy lay to put up with this guy, too. And he was Pamela’s assistant: he didn’t get to talk to the lead actress like this. She didn’t understand why Pamela wasn’t telling him to back off, but maybe they had some strange relationship. Maybe they were dating.

“We ran into each other,” said Lucy in a tight voice.

“Literally. Ms. Younger here practically threw herself at me.” He winked.

Pamela blinked in surprise, but she didn’t tell her assistant to back off. That made Lucy angrier.

“Is this how you talk to actors on set? Because if so, your approach needs some work,” Lucy shot back, no longer caring about being polite.

“Lucy—” whispered Erin behind her, but Lucy ignored her.

“Yet you seem to be the one whose feathers are all ruffled,” countered the obnoxious man.

Lucy curled her fingers into a fist, and she found great satisfaction in imagining punching the guy in the jaw.

“Why don’t you be useful and get me a cup of coffee? That is your job, isn’t it?” said Lucy scathingly, raising her voice so people could see that she was the one in control, not this asshole.

Pamela’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline; Erin made a choking sound. Lucy glared up at the obnoxious man, daring him to tell her no. Assistants should assist people, not antagonize them.

Lucy soon realized that everyone on set had stopped what they were doing. She could practically feel their collective gazes. A blush climbed up her throat.

“Do you want cream and sugar?” said the man, his voice sweet.

Lucy squared her shoulders. “Yes. Both.”

As the man went to get Lucy her coffee, Erin grabbed her arm and squeezed her so hard that Lucy gasped.

“What is it?” said Lucy.

Erin shook her. “Don’t you know who that is?”

“He’s Pamela’s asshole assistant. Can you believe he talked to me like that?”

“Assistant? Lucy!” Erin dug her fingers into Lucy’s arm so hard that Lucy yelped.

“Ow, you’re hurting me—”

“You idiot! He’s that huge baseball player! Didn’t you recognize him? He plays for the Seattle Orcas.”

Something niggled in the back of Lucy’s mind. Her throat closed as dread filled her, and her palms became cold with sweat.

“Then why—?” whispered Lucy.

Right then, the obnoxious man returned and handed Lucy her cup of coffee with a sardonic bow.

“Lucy, have you met Mr. Roberts?” said Pamela in a strained voice.

Carter put out his hand, but Lucy was too frozen to shake it.

“Carter Roberts,” he said in that annoying drawl, his eyes sparkling with what looked like triumph. “Baseball player turned executive producer, at your service.”

Chapter Two

When Carter’s best friend, Anthony Bertram, had suggested that he work on a movie of all things, Carter had thought he was insane.

“I’m a baseball player,” he’d said. “The last thing I wrote was probably some essay in the fifth grade. Also about baseball.”

Anthony had waved his hand dismissively. “You won’t have to write a damn thing. You’ll be playing supervisor, making sure things stay on schedule and on budget. Best of all, it’ll give you something to do now that you’re benched for the season. I was going to do it, but I’m too busy here in Seattle with Thea and the business.”

Carter had told Anthony to go find someone actually qualified. But Anthony had somehow gotten it into his brain that Carter should do the job, and when he’d told Carter he needed someone he could trust at the helm, Carter had given in. Even though Carter’s interest in the movie business was about as high as his interest in the mating habits of sea anemones.

When he’d arrived on Hazel Island yesterday morning to begin the job, he’d expected to be bored out of his mind and wishing to get back to playing ball within a week.

But now, Carter was having too much fun pissing off this gorgeous little blond spitfire. Seeing her sputter in shock after she’d found out his identity was the most hilarious thing he’d experienced in a long time.

Lucy—that was her name. It fit her, Carter thought. With her pointy chin and blazing green eyes, she looked like some elfin creature he’d find deep in the woods. At the moment, her color was high, and she seemed close to punching somebody. That only made Carter smile wider.

“Are you—no, are you sure?” stammered Lucy as she shot a glance at Pamela. “Is this a joke?”

“He’s the executive producer,” hissed Pamela before she said to Carter, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Roberts. Lucy has had a long day. I’m sure she’s horribly sorry for how rude she’s been.”

Lucy didn’t look the least bit sorry this time, either, and Carter had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He wasn’t normally the type of guy to needle a pretty girl like this, but something about the way she’d put her hands on her hips and told him to eat shit earlier had intrigued him.

Lucy visibly swallowed as she kept looking from Pamela to Carter. “I’m so sorry,” she croaked. “I didn’t realize.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem. I’m sure you can make it up to me somehow.”

She squared her shoulders, muttered an apology, and promptly stalked off.

Carter wasn’t mad that she was walking away: it gave him a great view of her ass, nice and round in her tight jeans.

“Mr. Roberts, I’m so sorry,” said Pamela. Her hands fluttered in front of her like wild birds. “I’ll talk to Lucy. I don’t know how she didn’t recognize you, but she would never have talked to you like that otherwise. But that’s no excuse. I’m so sorry—”

Carter held up a hand. “It’s fine. Like you said, she didn’t recognize me.”

Before Pamela could launch into another apologetic speech, Carter left to follow Lucy. He didn’t know why he felt the need to continue to needle her.

Maybe because he’d been bored ever since he’d gotten benched after his shoulder injury. Without baseball, Carter had been set adrift, his life coming to a standstill. Not even women, parties, booze, or money could take the place of baseball in his life, no matter how much he’d partaken of all of those things.

When his good friend Anthony Bertram had asked Carter to be an executive producer for a movie he was funding, Carter had thought Anthony was losing his mind. Anthony had once been the billionaire CEO of Bertram, Sons and Co. and was now the millionaire founder of Goldfinch Press with his girlfriend Thea, so he knew a thing or two about running business ventures. That fact had only confused Carter further—why him?

What did Carter know about movies besides the fact that he liked watching them, preferably the ones that were rated R for “scenes of a sexual nature”? Nothing. He knew nothing. Anthony, though, had persuaded him to come to tiny Hazel Island for the summer to, in his words, “get off his ass and do something useful.”

Carter still didn’t know why he’d agreed to do the stupid thing. Maybe because Anthony had kept looking at him with pity in his eyes. I know you’re unhappy about getting benched, his oldest friend had said, but that doesn’t mean you can sit around moping forever.

Carter had responded that he hadn’t been moping. He’d simply been at a loss how to proceed. Carter had been playing ball since he was a child, and now, at the age of twenty-nine, the thought of not playing was simply unthinkable.

It didn’t take long for Carter to catch up with Lucy. She stopped in front of the steps to her trailer and turned. “Why are you following me?” she demanded. She was still flushed, her feathers still very ruffled. Carter wanted to ruffle those feathers with his own hands.

“I’m not sure your apology was sincere,” he said. At her look of dismay, he barely suppressed a laugh. “I’m not the one who mouthed off at an executive producer, you know.”

Lucy swallowed. “Please accept my apology, Mr. Roberts,” she said meekly. She wrung her hands in distress.

Oh, she was good. A consummate little actress, this spitfire girl. She knew her stuff.

“You’re good, you know. I’ve dated plenty of actresses, but you’re one of the best I’ve seen give an apology.”

Lucy’s meek expression turned to anger in half a second, effectively proving Carter’s theory correct. He grinned.

“You know, I’ve never been on a movie set,” said Carter, “but from what I understand, it’s not usually the executive producers who get coffee for the actors. Unless you’re some big Oscar winner. Are you an Oscar winner, Ms. Younger?”

Lucy whirled on him. “In case you were wondering, I’m not sorry for what I did. You’re the most pompous, arrogant—”

“That’s redundant.”

“—irritating jackass I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and despite what you say, I’m not afraid of you.”

That made Carter raise an eyebrow. “Why should you be afraid of me?”

“Men like you are all the same. You think women exist for your own amusement.”

“You don’t know anything about me, little spitfire.”

She bristled at the nickname. “I don’t have time for this.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Lucy raised her pointed chin, her lip quivering slightly. Carter suddenly wondered what that mouth would feel like against his own.

“Are you going to fire me?” she asked.

“However tempting that would be,” drawled Carter, “I’m too lazy to go find a new actress and make Jim reshoot everything we’ve already done.”

“You’re a baseball player. What are you even doing here?”

Carter didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to tell Lucy that.

I’m bored. I’m lost. I’m nobody without baseball.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to tell her any of those things.

He shrugged. “Call it expanding my repertoire.”

Her green eyes narrowed as she looked at him, and Carter barely restrained himself from squirming underneath that assessing gaze. It was shrewd, distrustful, yet underneath it lurked curiosity.

Lucy’s eyes widened with realization. “You’re that baseball player.”

“So you have heard of me.” Triumph filled him.

He should’ve expected her claws, considering how he’d been playing with her. He should have, but when her claws sank below the surface, it still hurt.

“Last I heard, you were benched. So, is producing movies what all washed-up baseball players do in their spare time?”

Carter knew he deserved that. He knew, and yet he found himself smarting from the hurt anyway.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

Lucy sniffed. “You’re right—I don’t. And I have no intention of finding out anything else about you.” She peered more closely at him. “What’s your game? You don’t even know me. I don’t know you. Don’t you have fancy executive producer things to do?”

He shrugged. “Not at the moment. I was going to head back to the bed-and-breakfast, maybe go for a run. This is more entertaining.”

“I’m not here to entertain you.”

“But here you are, entertaining me.”

Lucy lifted her chin. “I don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing. I have things to do. Lines to learn. You know, what I was hired to do.”

Carter didn’t know why he didn’t let her flounce away in a huff. Was it boredom, or something else? Attraction, boredom—a distraction. Not thinking about how his career was still up in the air, and if his orthopedic surgeon didn’t clear him to play, he’d have to give up professional baseball for good.

“I’m not playing anything,” said Carter innocently. “You’re the one getting defensive over a simple conversation.”

He could practically see the steam coming from her ears. “Who in the world hired you?” she said.

“Anthony Bertram.” At Lucy’s widening eyes, he added, “You know the name?”

“I mean, of course I do. He’s funding this project.”

Lucy wouldn’t look him in the eye as she said that, which made Carter suspicious. Not that Anthony would ever cheat on Thea: Carter had seen the two lovebirds together, and they were nauseatingly happy. But he couldn’t help but wonder why Lucy seemed cagey suddenly.

“Cat got your tongue now?” said Carter.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to go work. You know, that thing people do to earn money?”

“Never heard of such a thing,” he drawled.

Lucy’s blond ponytail bounced as she walked away from him into her trailer, shutting the door with a slam that made Carter grin, despite wanting to yank on that ponytail a moment prior.

He didn’t know how this woman managed to bring out the elementary school boy inside him. He wanted to pull on her hair and make her run after him, screaming that she’d get her revenge.

What Carter had once thought would be a boring waste of summer was suddenly becoming more interesting by the minute.

“Carter!” said Jim as Carter was about to enter his own trailer. “I want to talk to you.”

Carter couldn’t stand Jim Stanton, and he knew that feeling was entirely mutual. Jim had a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas that Carter had gotten this job solely through nepotism, something that Jim had told Carter point-blank during their second conversation.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you since yesterday. We finally cast our lead actor,” said Jim, his beady eyes glowing under his glasses.

Carter waited for Jim’s point with impatience.

“We managed to get Hayden Masterson.” Normally recalcitrant and irritable, Jim looked like he wanted to burst into song right then. “I can’t believe it either. It took a lot of finagling, but he’s going to be here within the next week.”

“That’s great,” said Carter with little enthusiasm. “Congrats.”

“I want you to be the one to welcome him.” Jim said the words like he wished he could take them back. “Since you’re both Hollywood people, you know.”

“I’m a ballplayer, not an actor.”

“You’re both famous. Same difference. Hayden needs to feel like this is a real movie set, not some indie bullshit. You got me?”

Carter didn’t, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Smiling grimly, he replied, “You got it, Jimbo.”

Hayden Masterson—of course it would be him. Carter didn’t know the actor well, but a few years back, Hayden had gotten to know Carter’s girlfriend at the time very well. Carter had been dating Rosie for three months—practically a decade for Carter—before she’d run off with Hayden, texting Carter with a brief sorry but not sorry message that had included three sad emojis to add insult to injury.

Carter hadn’t been in love with Rosie. Considering it had been three years ago, he hardly remembered what she’d looked like. But it was the principle of the thing: having something that was yours stolen out from under your nose was unsupportable. To make things worse, the tabloids had caught onto the scandal, and it had exploded across social media. It was only when some other famous actress had gotten caught doing heroin that the public had finally looked away from Carter’s humiliation and Rosie’s perfidy.

Carter gritted his teeth. Oh, he’d show Hayden Masterson a great time. And knowing Jim, he knew about his and Hayden’s history and had asked him to be Hayden’s tour guide just to be petty.

Carter wasn’t new to people trying to tear him down or watch him sweat. He’d been drafted into the major leagues at the age of twenty-one and had held his own. He’d had to deal with jealous fellow players who’d wanted a kid like him to fail.

Hayden was merely a bug Carter would squash—and he’d enjoy doing it, too.

Chapter Three

Lucy inhaled the scent of cinnamon rolls and coffee as she came downstairs at the local bed-and-breakfast. Most of the cast had been provided rooms here, and although it was hardly fancy, it was nice and homey and had helped Lucy relax after her stressful day yesterday.

She couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment—and anger—as she thought of Carter Roberts. His stupid, grinning, handsome face, and how he seemed to love needling her as much as humanly possible. She had no idea what his deal was, and she was determined to avoid him as much as she could.

“Good morning,” said Gwendolyn Parker, the owner of the Hazel Island Bed and Breakfast. Tall and curvaceous, with curly red hair, Gwen was as sweet as apple pie and probably the nicest person Lucy had ever met. It probably helped that she got to live on this beautiful island and not deal with men like Carter Roberts.

“Good morning. Those smell amazing,” said Lucy. The first floor of the bed-and-breakfast consisted of the dining room, where they provided a complimentary breakfast that included local pastries made fresh every morning, and another room used for small meetings and get-togethers. The walls were a pale peach with hand-painted leaves edging the ceiling. Local artwork hung on the walls, depicting scenes of Hazel Island and more avant-garde paintings filled with slashes of color that seemed to depict nothing and everything all at once.

A few of the cast and crew were already downstairs eating along with some locals Lucy didn’t recognize. Erin wasn’t there yet; most likely she was still asleep, and since it was their day off, she probably wouldn’t leave her room for a few more hours.

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t see Carter. She didn’t know if he was staying here, anyway. A fancy baseball player like him probably had his own place somewhere on the island.

She also couldn’t believe Carter was Anthony Bertram’s best friend. Anthony, who also happened to be Lucy’s sister Thea’s boyfriend. It explained why Carter had gotten this gig in the first place, but Lucy also knew that if she didn’t watch herself, word would get to Thea. And then Thea would be up in Lucy’s business asking all kinds of questions like the nosy older sister she was.

“Did you sleep well?” said Gwen with a bright smile. “I hope your room wasn’t too cold. The windows in your room are old and tend to be drafty.”

“No, it was perfect. Although I have to admit, I’d forgotten how cold the nights get here. I was spoiled in LA. Anything below sixty degrees was practically a national emergency down there.”

Gwen laughed. “One of my good friends from college moved down there, and anytime she comes up here, she wears so many layers you’d think she was in Siberia.”