And He Cooks Too (31 page)

Their visitor rose to shake Seth’s hand. “Jasper Walters. I did double-duty as your sister’s director and supervising producer.”

“Are you here to talk her into coming back?” Charley asked from another door.

Coming to her feet as well, Reese scolded, “Charley! That’s impertinent.”

“It’s my business if you’re going to leave us and go back to them,” he defended.

Turning to her middle brother, Jasper said, “Let me set your mind at ease, young man. I’m no longer on the show either.” He briefly went over what he’d told Reese and his purpose for visiting, concluding with, “So you’re all putting together a new show for Reese? That’s…amazing.”

“You think we’re crazy?” Charley challenged.

Jasper sat again, indicating the rest should join him. “I think what you’re doing is exhilarating. Sounds like fun, even to an old guy like me.”

Without thinking it through, Reese blurted out, “You should join us. Especially if you don’t have anything else lined up yet.” After the words were out, it struck her how this might be a way to transition her production from her family to a professional crew.

“Me?”

Both Seth and Charley gave her strange looks. “Great idea, Sis, but remember how slim our resources are.”

“In other words, we can’t pay you,” Charley clarified with his typical candor.

Jasper looked from Reese to each of her two brothers, his expression morphing from one of surprise to interest to excitement. “Remuneration is the last thing on my mind. But I’d like to contribute my services in some way.” He actually sounded hopeful.

“I can’t believe those friends of mine,” Reese’s mother announced, dashing into the room, initially unaware of either Jasper’s presence or the discussion she’d walked in on. “Oh, hello, am I interrupting something?”

Reese introduced her mother to Jasper and brought her up to speed.

“I don’t want to encroach on a family project,” he demurred, “but if there’s something I can help out with?”

Her mother’s eyes went wide. “Do you know how to pitch a demo? Or who to pitch to?”

Jasper sat back. “I suppose so, although I haven’t done it for awhile.”

Not waiting for the rest of them to confer, Reese’s mother said, “You’re hired! Can we start now? I’ve exhausted all the leads I could think of in my social network.”

“Now? Uh, sure,” Jasper replied, looking to Reese for confirmation.

Reese, in turn, checked her brothers. “How’s the demo coming?”

Seth was the first to reply. “Done. Get your laptop. We emailed it to you already.”

“Why don’t you review that while I pick Jasper’s brain.” Her mother didn’t wait for a reply but instead escorted him out of the room, explaining as she went, “I’ve relocated my office to the kitchen while Reese has been staying in her old room, but I’ve got all sorts of goodies out there, if you’re hungry?”

“Hey, I thought those rolls were for us,” Seth protested.

“Find me someone to pitch the demo to, and you can have some too,” his mother bargained.

“Then we’re going to the coffee shop downtown,” Charley announced.

Reese waited for the little entourage to clear out, made herself comfortable on the sofa in the living room and turned on her computer. She rubbed her hands together, savoring the moment. Here was the start of a whole new life. Anticipation jumpstarted her heart.

Within a few minutes, a sour taste invaded her throat. She sat there transfixed, watching what she deemed a ridiculous performance. To be fair, the garage set didn’t look too bad. And the high caliber of the camerawork and editing surprised her. But her own camera presence was a huge disappointment. She came across as a know-it-all bore, her body movements stiff and her commentary pretentious.

Just like that, her exciting new career deflated like a fallen soufflé.

What happened? Though they’d hit a few rough spots while taping, once she caught her stride, it had seemed to come together.

She watched a second time. Maybe she’d expected too much the first time through, but on second review it wouldn’t look so bad. But all that effort accomplished was to point out even more areas that needed work.

What was she going to do? Everyone in the family was so psyched about this project. Had her brothers known how bad it was? Maybe that’s why they’d left her alone to view the demo and hadn’t balked at the idea of Jasper joining the team.

Reese bent her head, massaged her temples. She had to keep her cool. This might be a setback, but they could fix it. Especially now that Jasper had been added to the team. She really didn’t want him to see this, but being a firm believer in ripping off the bandage in one fell swoop, she’d best get it over with.

“Why the grim face?” her mother asked as she brought her computer into the kitchen.

“The demo not what you’d hoped for?” Jasper asked.

Reese bit a lip. “I may have been expecting too much.” She pulled a chair up next to Jasper.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” he asked cautiously.

She turned the laptop toward him. “Here, we can view it together.” She’d let him see for himself and not influence his opinion.

When the video finished, they both sat back, thinking. Reese angled her head Jasper’s direction. “Well?”

“Well, uh, you have to remember that you weren’t using top-of-the-line equipment, or a studio set, and you’re still feeling your way through the concept you want to get across.”

“Cut the soft soap, Jasper. What do you really think?”

He swiped at his jaw. In a quiet, deliberate way, he said, “You still have work to do.”

“I got that already,” she returned. “But how am I going to fix it?”

“It’s the directing, isn’t it?” Evan flopped down in a chair across from Reese and Jasper, an expression on his face that telegraphed defeat.

Sighing, Reese said, “No, Evan, it’s not that entirely. It’s me too. I look and act like cardboard.”

Evan shot a quizzical glance at Jasper. Reese went through the same introduction as she had with her other two brothers. “Evan wrote the script for the demo and served as my director,” she felt compelled to add before Jasper unwittingly criticized those parts.

“Ah,” Jasper said, expressing understanding. “Pretty important jobs for one so young.”

She flinched. Jasper was only trying to find something positive to say, but she knew what was coming.

“I’m sixteen,” Evan replied defensively. “Seventeen in three months.”

The older man shot her a panicked look, as if beseeching her to smooth over his faux pas. Before she could salvage things, though, Evan took the lead. “So you were Reese’s director.”

Appearing relieved to be on more solid ground, Jasper said, “Yes, that’s right. But I’m not with the show anymore either.”

Evan’s eyes widened. “No?”

Their new consultant told Evan about his own recent departure from the show.

“Jasper has agreed to help us while he decides what he’s going to do next,” Reese explained, wanting to get that piece of information on the table even though she knew it might upset her brother.

Evan sat back, his eyes narrowing. “You’re going to take over as director?” His voice cracked in the middle of the question.

Jasper stirred in his seat. “No, no. At least we haven’t discussed that yet. With my contacts in the business, your mother asked me to help her pitch the demo.”

“Oh,” Evan said, the hint of a smile returning. “Well, then, would you consider it?”

Reese’s eyes shot up. “You don’t want to direct anymore, Evan? That frown you saw on my face when you came in wasn’t about you or your work. You believe that, don’t you?”

Evan grimaced. “Yeah, I guess so. I knew when we were taping that something was wrong. You weren’t yourself. But I didn’t know how to help you.” He shifted his gaze to Jasper. “You’ve been doing that kind of thing for years. So don’t worry about stepping on my toes.”

“Tell you what,” Jasper offered. “If Reese agrees, why don’t you email me a copy of the video. I’ll review it from home and be back tomorrow with my thoughts. Once I’ve taken a closer look at what you’ve got, I’ll decide whether I want to direct. But if I do,” he looked at Evan, “I’m going to need an associate.”

Evan blinked. Reese set down her coffee mug. “Associate?” Evan asked. “What does that mean?”

Jasper cocked his head. “Well,” he drawled, “whenever I need a translation of family-speak, I’ll turn to you. Whenever I need a second opinion, you’re my man. And whenever you get a brainstorm, you tell me about it. How’s that?”

Evan sat up straighter. “Uh, yeah. Sounds goods,” he beamed.

Shortly afterward, as Reese led Jasper to the front door, she couldn’t thank him enough for his visit and for helping her fledgling production company. “You are a Godsend, Jasper. I hope you know that. Leonie’s loss is my gain.”

He bowed his head, suddenly shy. “Other way around. This project is a Godsend for me. I started second guessing my decision to leave.” He faced her. “You’ve made it possible for me to get past that.”

He hugged her awkwardly. “Don’t worry about the demo. I’m pretty sure it can be fixed. And I kind of like the idea of playing mentor.”

“For me or for Evan?” she teased.

He started. “What?”

“That you were here to mentor me? Maybe not, but that’s how it’s worked out, hasn’t it?” As he walked down the front sidewalk, she called out, “Better put out a shingle, Jasper. It should say, ‘Godsend and mentor.’”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“That was fast,” James observed when Nick climbed back in the car less than ten minutes after heading up to Reese’s door.

“Long enough,” Nick growled. “Let’s go.”

His driver took one look at his passenger through the rearview mirror and immediately turned the car around, no more questions.

“Got any scotch in here?” Nick asked as he rooted through the vehicle’s small storage cabinets. He needed a drink to clear his head. Too many conflicting thoughts swarmed around in there. Reese left the show because of him, not because of Leonie or because of that obnoxious article. She left because he’d lied to her. The one thing she couldn’t tolerate.

The realization staggered him.

Over his shoulder, James said, “Try the left door.”

Success! Almost a full bottle. He fished around to find a glass and, once he found it, sloshed a jigger’s worth of the good stuff into it. Downed a long gulp, coughed. He closed his eyes, waited for the liquid warmth to make its way down his insides and erase the last several minutes of his life. Hell, the last several weeks, since his path had crossed Reese Dunbar’s.

By the time he opened his eyes again, that first, mood-changing sip was fast at work numbing his senses. He stared out the window, as tidy suburban streets, then more scruffy industrial areas rolled by. He didn’t see them. Instead, he focused on the contents of his glass, jiggling the liquid to see how fast he could swish it without spilling any.

She’d asked him why the charade. Then dismissed his explanation. Had she never gone out on a limb for someone? Couldn’t she understand how sometimes the right thing to do might not be the wisest?

He didn’t need her judging him. Second-guessing his ethics. So fine, if she wanted to call it quits with him as well as the show, let her. He wasn’t going to let her slice and dice his heart as efficiently as she chopped vegetables. He didn’t need her. Why should he expect her to be different than every other woman that had crossed his path?

He’d expected too much. Hoped for something that just wasn’t going to happen. Damn her! His drink nearly went flying as he slammed it down on the small tray in front of him, but miraculously, just in time, he thought to steady the glass. The scotch-produced heat burned his stomach. So he and Leonie had misrepresented his cooking credentials. Who were they hurting? Certainly not Reese. The show had put her career back on track. Who was she to question his actions?

The car accelerated as it left the urban setting and headed into the Connecticut countryside. His thoughts picked up speed too, jumping ahead to life without Reese. It wasn’t like they’d been together all that long. He could get over her. Move on. Of course, he could.

Hell, who was he kidding? With her self-confident expertise, the woman had walked into his life and burrowed under his skin, just like she’d snuggle into his arms after their lovemaking. Surely she wouldn’t just walk away.

Maybe, after a few days, she might reconsider. Realize she’d been too tough on him. They’d been on the way to something special. More than an affair. More like…

Geez, how had he been about to end that thought? Love? Nah, that was taking it a little too far. He wasn’t in love with her.

He no more than considered that thought than he remembered that final look she gave him. Pity. He was sure of that. Maybe a little disgust mixed in. A few days weren’t going to change that look. Deep down inside, an increasingly more painful ache ripped through him. There was no going back. It was over. Over before he realized how much she meant to him.

He settled back into the seat, unable to pull himself out of the cloud of defeat surrounding him. The panorama whizzed by outside the window, making him dizzy. For several minutes, he simply sat there, attempting to clear his head and absorb it all. Usually, when something really got to him, he could make light of it with a few clever words. He’d gotten pretty good at that tactic. It had helped him through years of loneliness, being the outsider. Even Leonie’s never-ending self-involvement.

But now? Could he do it again? Shake off this overwhelming feeling of defeat and move on. What choice did he have? He didn’t need Reese. He didn’t need any woman. Not even Leonie.

Not. Even. Leonie. Thanks to her, he’d lost his chance at having something very special with Reese. He closed his eyes, attempted to channel the alcoholic courage coursing through his veins. For the moment, that was all he had to rely on.

Then light dawned. He had himself. And his own free will. He could move on. There was nothing left to lose.

He envisioned a new future. One where, though alone, he was free to pick and choose his roles. Hell, pick and choose whatever he wanted to do. Maybe even move back to the West Coast.