Chase sat in the quiet coolness of the fading afternoon, mulling over what was to come, and at the heart of every journey her mind took toward her possible future was the question, Is this really what you want, Chase?

Spencer’s truck rolled up and shut off. Her favorite superhero climbed out, hair still damp from the dunking booth. He looked subdued. “Hey, where’s your lumberjack? I expected him to be here warming you up.”

He slammed the door and strolled her way.

“Zeke’s not my lumberjack,” she said.

“You okay?” he asked, climbing the porch steps and kicking at the glider of one of the rocking chairs. It creaked as it rocked.

When she didn’t answer, he shrugged and sat down in the rocking chair. “You’re sure sour for a gal who had Conrad Santos hand-deliver her a script. I’d be jacked to have a shot at one of his films.”

Why didn’t Chase feel that way? Instead she felt obligated. “He’s paying for all this, you know.”

“Conrad Santos? He’s paying for your therapy? That’s pretty generous.” Spencer’s pretty eyes widened.

“So generous. He wanted me for the junkie part in his next feature but needed me cleaned up enough to get insured. That’s what I’m good for—playing the junkie.”

“Come on, Ladybug, you know that’s not true. You’re a hell of an actress. Only one with a Golden Globe on this porch.” Spencer had lost the surfer boy shtick and replaced it with the insightful, intelligent person she knew lurked beneath the charming, give-no-shits veneer he donned.

“Big deal. That was fourteen years ago when I was a kid. What have you done for me lately? is the Hollywood mantra. I think my answer to that question is a rap sheet and multiple rehab stints. Not too many directors looking for someone like me.”

“Conrad Santos is.”

Chase shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe. He hooked me up with Olivia because they’re friends from back in the day, but he may have had other motives and used me to get close to her.”

“You think he’s into her?” Spencer’s brows drew together, and he looked . . . upset. Hmm. She’d known Spence for a long time, and she’d never seen him serious over a woman. Then again, she hadn’t been around him much. Still, she noted his irritation, that slight worry. Maybe Spencer needed a little competition. Wouldn’t be bad for the guy who always got the girl.

“Maybe. He looks at her kinda weird, but they go way back. Olivia’s sister died from an overdose, and Neve said Conrad dated her sister or something. Anyway, maybe that’s why they both feel obligated to help lost actresses get their shit together. That role Conrad promised me now requires I read for it.”