Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
He wipes his brow, and a plume of dust spreads in the room. “Assumed you enjoyed being in the public eye as a starving artist and all.”
“I enjoy acting, just not all the bullshit that comes with the industry.”
“Must be why some celebrities fade into obscurity.” He eyes me thoughtfully. “And the service industry?”
“Working at the restaurant brings a steady paycheck, one that affords me the opportunity to go on auditions.”
“Ah. Gotta make a living while you chase success.”
My stomach tilts. There’s that word again. Success.
“It would be nice to finally make a living doing something I love.” I laugh humorlessly. “But we can’t have everything.”
“You’ll get there,” Aaron says. “We both will.”
I’d say Aaron is already there, but that’s not for me to define.
I motion toward the stairs. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
“I’ve never fished before. What do you like about it?”
Damn, this guy asks lots of questions.
“It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Suppose it brings me a certain kind of peace. Just me and my pole, out in the elements.” I think about this morning and how bright and colorful the sun looked lifting over the horizon. “Of course, snagging a fish every now and again sweetens the experience.”
He grins. “Do you keep them or throw them back?”
“Depends if it’s supper or not. My grandfather and I ate lots of fish from his daily catches.”
“Bet that was great.”
I hum earnestly. “It was.”
We’d come home smelling like fish, but he loved grilling out back or frying the filets in butter, and I’d make a side of rice or salad before we hungrily gobbled it all down.
“Anyhow,” Aaron says, “after I’ve patched up the holes and sanded most everything down, I’m gonna paint the walls. Is there a certain color you were going for?”
I glance around the space, considering it. “What would help it sell faster?”
“Neutrals are always a good bet.”
“Then go with that.”
He nods thoughtfully. “I can’t believe you don’t want to hold on to this place. I looked up the town’s history, and this house dates back a hundred years. I’ve been admiring some of the original fixtures.” He points out the built-in bookshelves in the dining area and the bronze sconces flanking them.
“Not sure what I’d do with it.”
“Rent it out, or…I don’t know. At least register it with the historical society. That might bring in some interest. Does Aqua Vista have one?”
“Hell if I know.” I smirk, imagining men with pipes and cardigans sitting behind ornate wooden desks, poring over historical documents. “God, Grandpa would hate that—pretentious types snooping around his property.”
Aaron snickers. “I would’ve enjoyed meeting him.”
I don’t tell Aaron that Grandpa would’ve found him too fussy, though it’s likely Aaron would’ve won him over in the end.
“Believe it or not, my great-grandmother was part of a hippie commune around here.” Free love and all that. “Beth’s grandmother too.”
“Jack mentioned that as well as the history of the gold rush in this town.”
“Yep. It’s actually why my family settled in these parts at the turn of the twentieth century.” At least I know some of our history from Grandpa’s stories, considering my father never shared much of anything.
“God, I nerd out on this stuff. I keep meaning to ask Beth more.”
“You should. Anyway, gotta clean up,” I say, feeling a bit too nostalgic. That history is why this house meant so much to my grandfather. And here I am, selling it.
Aaron nods. “I’ll bring some paint swatches from the hardware store. Not sure how much of a selection they’ll have, but we’ll find something decent.”
I wave that away. “Anything you think looks good is fine by me.”
“That’s pretty trusting of you.” When he grins toothily, I can see his appeal. He’s a good-looking guy with a sweet personality.
As I’m finishing my shower, my cell rings with a call from my agent, Ken.
“How’s it going, Micah?”
I put him on speaker as I slip into a pair of sweats. “Okay. And you?”
“Fine, especially since I’ve got some news.” I hold my breath as he blurts, “You scored an audition for Cold Blade.” It’s a crime drama series that’s been around for more than a decade.
“Are you serious?” My head spins as I pace my room. “The timing couldn’t be worse.”
“You’ve got a couple of weeks to figure it out. If I were you, I’d get my ass back to LA for the audition.”
“Can you email me the script?” I’m already calculating the driving distance against my schedule for the boat and ashes, but it should all work out.
“Will do. And, Micah? I think this might be your big break.”
My stomach bottoms out. Not only because I feel so far away, but because I’m not sure what that means anymore. Hollywood doesn’t feel as shiny or promising, not like it did when I first arrived, but maybe this is everything I’ve been working toward. A steadier paycheck and a higher profile that could lead to other opportunities.