“You’re turning down the role?” his mom asked coolly.
“Mom, if he wanted to act, he’d go act.” Poppy folded the napkin in her lap. “It’s not like you don’t pressure him every single Sunday to read a new script you’ve got. Can’t you see that Dash is trying to find himself?”
“Well,” Dash started to say, then stopped. He wasn’t trying to find himself, really. He was trying to keep from falling off the edge of a very dangerous cliff. Less than half of alcoholics in recovery stayed sober, and Dash planned to be one of them. But he was grateful that Poppy had at least tried to come to his defense, even if she hadn’t been completely accurate in her assessment.
“William…” His mom’s voice pleaded, but his father just kept looking back at him, the concern still there. Or was it judgment?
“Kitty, if he turned it down, I’m sure there’s a good reason,” his dad finally said.
His mom sat back in her chair. It was moments like these, where her gaze turned hawkish and her angular frame became domineering, that he understood why she’d been one of the top agents in Hollywood for nearly three decades and, at one New Year’s Eve party, sent Julia Roberts home in tears.
“Okay, then, what’s the reason?” she asked.
Dash knew he should say something. Now was the perfect opportunity to bring up his sobriety. He could easily tell them the truth and get the whole awful secret out there. But he kept quiet.
“You have plenty of time to write that speech for your father’s award, is what you’re saying?” she finally asked. “Dash, I’d like to see a draft by the end of the month.”
Dash stiffened at the demand. The thing about writing a speech for his dad was…what would he say? His father’s career had soared while Dash was growing up. He’d almost never seen him, save for holidays. It was only now, as his father’s career had slowed, that they all sat down for a weekly meal. And even with those few hours, it’s not like he and his dad were close or had heart-to-hearts. His father was of a generation of men who didn’t share their feelings. And because he’d never been able to open up to his children, he was more of an uncle, or an acquaintance, than someone they knew.
His sister gave his hand a little squeeze under the table, and he squeezed back. The only sound Dash heard was the scrape of his father’s knife against the dinner plate. Dash hesitated in responding but eventually said, “Okay.”
He just hoped that Sophie was the talented writer he needed to pull the whole charade off.
The next day, he texted Sophie to meet him, and she’d agreed. If he was going to have a speech ready for his mom in a few weeks, they needed to start working on it together as soon as possible.
It was early morning—well, ten was early for Dash—and he inspected the avocado tree while he waited. The tree was completely bare, thanks to the squirrel who terrorized his garden.
The squeak of her front door opening interrupted his thoughts, and Dash turned to see Sophie come out in a visible sports bra and spandex dress which clung to her body as she walked across the lawn. He shouldn’t stare—he really shouldn’t—but how was he supposed to ignore her generous thighs or the ample cleavage that wasn’t covered by the dress? She moved like a cat, each leg slinking in front of the other as she walked.
He tried to remember that this was Sophie, Poppy’s best friend and a person who, just a few days ago, had barfed all over him. But even knowing those things didn’t stop him from taking a step toward her. And was it possible he could see the thick outline of her lashes, even from so far away? Damn.
She gave him a wave. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not really. Just seeing how my avocados are doing.” And trying very hard not to stare at you.
“Richard loves those.”
Dash eyed her. “Who?”
“Our squirrel.”
“Our squirrel? Do you mean the terror who eats all of my fruit?”
“Richard is, like, the size of your foot. Get a grip, Dash.”
The back of Dash’s neck turned hot, and he rubbed a palm across it. “Are you telling me you not only named the squirrel, but you chose Richard as its name?”
“My mom used to love watching Richard Gere movies, and they both have kind eyes.” She nudged a fallen avocado leaf with her sandal.
“We’ll I’m going to call him Dick for short, because he absolutely is one.” Dash crossed his arms, hoping the little dig got under her skin a bit.
Sophie’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he was pleased by her reaction. “Dash Montrose, you will do no such thing!”
“You clearly don’t know me all that well, Soph.” He liked the feel of her shortened name in his mouth, like they’d known each other long enough for him to use it. “I’m not afraid to call squirrels out for the dicks they are.”
She let out a laugh but rolled her eyes. Maybe she was liking their unexpected exchange just as much as he was.
“Getting some yoga in?” Of course he’d watched her video from the day before and knew how the meeting with her yogi ex had gone, but he didn’t want her to know that.
“I used to do yoga a lot and haven’t done it in a while. I’m just trying to remember if I actually liked it or just did it because my ex did.” A slight breeze lifted the hem of her dress just enough for Dash to see a further smattering of charming little freckles. “They say you can’t change without making changes, right?”
So she’d read his comment on TikTok, and it had meant something to her. That was…interesting. “They do say that.” Dash kept a knowing smirk from crossing his lips. “My mom wants a draft of the speech in, like, two weeks. Do you think that’s doable?” He could bring their conversation back to business, and that way he wouldn’t think about tracing lines across her shoulders with his teeth.
Sophie gnawed on her lip. “I can make that work. I just kind of need to go back to Ojai this weekend to see another one of my exes. But I can outline the speech on the bus ride up, if that’s okay?”
Sophie didn’t have a car, one of the appeals of having her as a tenant, seeing as he only had space for his in their driveway. But Dash did have a car, and there was an incredible crafting community in the downtown Ojai area he’d really like to visit. He could imagine making a video there would be a nice change on the channel and a value incentive to his followers. Not that Sophie would need to know that, but he could drive her there, go to the shops while she made her connection, and then drive them home.
“Would you prefer a ride? We could talk about my dad and the speech on the way? I need to take my girl for a drive anyway.” He realized how that might sound and pointed to his car. “My car, I mean.”
“It’s kinda far.” She crossed her arms and studied him. He worked hard to keep his gaze above her neck.
“Hour and a half, tops.” Dash didn’t know why he was pushing this so much. He hated asking for her help, and really, he could call her and have this conversation on her bus ride to Ojai. But something about being near her made him want more time.
He was just lonely. After all, even Chris had called him out for being antisocial. So maybe Sophie scratched some deep itch he had to be around another person or something. He wasn’t totally sure, but he kept going. “If you want to work on this with me, we have to do it quickly. A drive is the perfect way for me to tell you about my dad, and then you can help translate that onto the page.”