Page 2 of Yours, Always
“Not much. She’s guarded about her personal life. Nice enough from the talk around town, but she’s never lived in the real world. Silver spoon and all that.”
“Guarded about her personal life? Isn’t she in the gossip rags almost daily?”
“That’s not her personal life, that’s hershow-bizlife. What she thinks people want to see of her, to keep them interested. Her dad bought her way into the ‘it-girl’ title, and she’s trying to hold on to it. People are eating it up, though, and her box-office records prove it.”
Greyson was silent for a moment. He’d only worked with Bradford for a year, but he trusted his opinion, maybe even more than Nadia’s. “Do you think it’s a smart idea to work with her?”
Bradford answered without hesitating. “Yes. It’s good press.” He echoed Nadia’s words from earlier in the day. “The more people you can reach, like Samantha’s demographic, the more people will want to see whatever project you’re attached to.”
“Nadia wants me to take her to the Verity Awards ceremony on Sunday.”
“She’s her agent too, you know. Nadia’s quite the tactician, always three steps ahead.”
Greyson rolled his eyes upwards. Nadia’s insistence on taking Samantha to the awards show and reading her script suddenly made sense, although he couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just tell him she was agent to both of them. “That clever girl. It’s double bucks for Nadia if it goes through, she’s going for the hard sell.”
Bradford shrugged his shoulder. “If you have the opportunity to double your payday, you always take it.”
Greyson nodded. “Those are true words, Bradford. Why don’t you reach out to Samantha’s people and set up a lunch date before the awards on Sunday? Nothing too flashy—try to keep the press away.”
“That’s a good idea, Mr. Atwood, although I can’t guarantee anything about the press once the lunch is set up. I’ll reiterate to her people the importance of having this lunch privately, but it’ll be out of my hands after she knows.”
“Thanks, Bradford. Now, it sounds like I have a script to read”—he pushed away his salad—“and some clothes to try on.”
Chapter Two
Prudence was late. It wasn’t a habit—having clients with tight deadlines had pretty much cured her of any tardy tendencies—but when it did happen it was usually in the most spectacular way, today being no different. She left her townhouse early enough to run a few errands before she was supposed to meet her best friend and journalist Annabelle Winters at Books and Beans, their favorite downtown coffee place, run by their friend Devlin Watkins.
Of all the days to get sidetracked by being a Good Samaritan, this was one of the worst, knowing that Annabelle was a day away from publishing the next bi-weekly issue of the Amber Falls Bee print edition, and she wouldn’t have long to stay and visit. She could feel the perspiration starting to bead at her hairline as she sprinted the last few yards to the coffee shop, stopping to take a few calming breaths before pulling open the door.
“You won’t believe it!” Prudence exclaimed, after spotting Annabelle at a table in the back, dodging other patrons and waving to Devlin, who was behind the counter, on her way there. She stopped at the table—one of the beads of sweat had started to trickle over her face. She grabbed a napkin that had come with Annabelle’s already eaten muffin, and wiped her forehead. “Mrs. Crenshaw got stuck in a tree!”
Annabelle blew out a breath as she glanced up wide-eyed, “You mean her cat, Billy Bones, got stuck in the tree?”
“Nope, Mrs. Crenshaw. She went up to retrieve said cat and couldn’t get back down,” Prudence explained.
“Don’t tell me she talked you into going up to get her,” Annabelle stated as she stood to clear half of the table that was currently strewn with her laptop, notepads and other various journalistic items she had with her at all times when she was up against a deadline. Her sleek auburn hair was pulled up into a classic bun, and her slim frame was clad in a herringbone blazer and trousers. Four-inch booted heels almost brought her to Prudence’s height.
“It wasn’t that high up.” Prudence set her bag and a large leather briefcase on the floor as she shrugged and sat.
“You did not!”
“I wish I was that nimble. I called the Fire Department, but I couldn’t just leave her. What if she fell?”
Annabelle cocked her head. “I’d stick around to see the firemen in action, too.”
“Besides.” Prudence lowered her voice and surreptitiously looked around before she said in a whisper, “I think she would have put a curse on me if I’d left her by herself.”
Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Enough with this. She doesn’t know it was you that broke her window in the fifth grade. Just because she has a black cat and always carries her broom doesn’t make her a witch.”
Prudence raised her eyebrows and pointed a finger at Annabelle. “You’ll take that back when I tell her it wasyouwho broke the window and you start to grow warts!”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Annabelle sat back in her chair, grabbing the saltshaker and tossing some over her left shoulder.
“See, you think it’s true, too.” Prudence caught sight of Devlin out of the corner of her eye, the proprietress gathering an empty mug from a nearby table.
“Devlin!” Prudence called, waving her over. “What do you think of Mrs. Crenshaw—a little witchy, right?”
Devlin wound her way over to them. She hadn’t been in Amber Falls for long—a Boston transplant who’d chosen Amber Falls to open her business—citing a revitalized downtown and its quaint, small-town atmosphere. Her vintage style and short, brunette pixie cut made her fit in perfectly. The three ladies had become fast friends, partially because of Prudence and Annabelle’s coffee habit, but mostly to Devlin’s inherent warm nature. She could make any customer feel like a friend, and the three of them were lucky they’d developed a true friendship.