“I’m sorry. We need someone more…viral.” The casting director’s voice boomed through the cramped audition space. “Next!”
Mandy Reynolds mumbled her thanks to the panel and yanked the glitter-encrusted antennae off her head, along with several long strands of blond hair. Her first real audition back in her hometown and she couldn’t book a stupid hand sanitizer commercial—even dressed as a jumbo-size germ. She’d worn the costume, thinking it might help make her more memorable to the directors, in a good way. Guess she’d been wrong.
Disappointment burned alongside the grief in her chest as she made her way toward the exit, but she did her best to stay positive. She came by her optimism naturally, courtesy of her mother.
Think positive. Better things are just around the corner.
Today, though, the words brought a fresh sting of tears to Mandy’s eyes instead of hope to her heart. Her mom had passed a month prior, after a vicious battle with cancer, and things were still getting settled with the estate. That was the whole reason she was back in Heavenly Falls, to make sure her mother’s final wishes were carried out. After her mom’s valiant fight against a deadly disease, the least Mandy could do was keep her chin up after messing up an audition. If she didn’t get this job it was because it wasn’t meant for her. Yes, she needed the money, but there would be another way.
Please let there be another way.
Problem was, she’d been staying with her half sister, Gina, for the past four weeks and worried about wearing out her welcome. Gina hadn’t said anything, but Mandy didn’t like to stay in one place too long. Too confining. Too risky.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her duffel bag, and she pulled it out to find a reminder of her next appointment—a tour of the house on the rental property she’d inherited from her mother. Well, half of it, anyway. The other half her mom had bequeathed to a man Mandy hadn’t seen in thirteen years. A guy who’d once made her quake with lust in her Chuck Taylors. A real-life Prince Charming who’d whisk her away to happily ever after.
She’d been wrong about that, too.
Fingers trembling, she clicked off the phone. Was this the break she needed? Mom must’ve intended for her to sell it for the cash, right? That’s the only thing she could figure, since Mandy’s gypsy lifestyle wasn’t exactly conducive to home ownership. The thing she couldn’t understand, though, was why her mother had gotten Alex involved. As far as Mandy knew, her mom hadn’t had any contact with him since divorcing his father over a decade prior. It made no sense, but then neither did her mother’s serial marriages. Each man had seemed like a good fit for her mother and been kind and generous, but it had never been enough, apparently.
The irony wasn’t lost on Mandy. She loved her mom and missed her terribly, but she wasn’t like her. Not that way, at least. She moved around because of her work. She didn’t like to get involved too deeply with anyone, because long-distance relationships were difficult. It had nothing to do with her nomadic childhood.
Dull numbness spread outward from her core as she ran outside into the gray autumn rain and made a beeline for an Uber idling near the curb. Clambering into the back seat, her bulky costume made the fit precarious. “Eight-two-five West Concord Lane, please.”
Minutes later, Mandy climbed out onto the rain-slicked pavement on the outskirts of town. Mr. Pickett, her mother’s attorney, stood there sharing an umbrella with a taller man.
Alex. Still gorgeous as ever, darn him.
Mandy forced her attention to the Victorian-style house behind them. Not a total disaster, but not exactly Architectural Digest material, either. The exterior paint on the gingerbread trim was peeling, and the wraparound porch sagged in one corner. Overall, in need of TLC, but habitable.
“Nice outfit,” Alex said, looking her up and down like she was an alien from Planet Nimrod. “What are you? A mutant ninja cockroach?”
“I had an audition and didn’t have time to change before coming here.” She looked down at her homemade costume then back up at the two men, battling her urge to scurry away like a crab avoiding the stewpot. She ignored Alex and held out her hand to Mr. Pickett. “Thanks for showing us around today.”
“My pleasure.” The attorney shook her hand while Alex turned away, dismissing her the same way he had all those years ago. She’d spent the year their parents had been married thinking the sun rose and fell because of him, and he’d seen her as nothing more than a nuisance. At least that’s how it had felt back then. Now, she was a grown woman and refused to let him shove her aside. Too much depended on her being able to get her mother’s affairs in order, and fast—her future, her career, her need to put this place behind her and move on.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?” Mr. Pickett led them to the porch.
Alex followed first and Mandy trailed behind them, studying her ex-stepbrother more closely. He was still quarterback handsome, with his dark hair and chiseled features, his dark blue T-shirt and faded jeans clinging to his muscled bod. As they moved toward the house, though, she noticed a limp.
Huh. That was new.