“It’s okay. You know, you’re right. We can do it at my place. But dinner might be a little later, sis.”
Sis. Libby called her sis, and Goldie nearly cried. Right there, out of the blue. Where had that come from? She swallowed the shock of emotion. She turned to face the lake just behind the hotel. She didn’t want Libby to see her.
She was raw right now. Raw got you hurt.
“That’s great, perfect.” She was an actress, and by golly, she would act like she was okay.
She knew these women had no idea the kind of scrutiny or the lightning-fast way word traveled when a movie star showed up some place unexpected. Daniel Radcliffe ate breakfast at a Bob Evans in Flint, and it made national news. Keanu Reeves had dinner in Flat Rock, and Twitter broke.
“Okay, let me show you around. In recent history, the previous owners couldn’t make a go of it and were about to put it up for sale. Irish Hills has been falling into decline since we all ran the place. Anyway, the owners were ready to retire and were ripe for Stirling Stone to snap it up.”
In their travels yesterday, Libby had described her recent victories over the billionaire, Stirling Stone. She’d stopped eminent domain votes or delayed them, at least. Her aunt had blocked Stone’s attempts to buy everything in sight.
Libby described how Hope’s restaurant was a key in helping turn the downtown area around. And just two weeks ago, they were awarded grant money to finish their renovations. Part of Goldie felt bad. She knew things were bad when she left, but it was hard to hear the details. Memories of her old stomping grounds were all good, all bathed in summer glow.
But Libby was on the case. Whatever cause she set her sights on was going to succeed. That was how she was as a kid; now, her old friend was in her full power. Too bad for Stirling Stone.
“Along with the guest rooms, four on three floors, there is a really nice space, off the main lobby sitting room. I think that’s where we put you, come on.”
Goldie looked around as she followed. There was carpet covering the floors. Who does that? She suspected there were wood floors underneath. The baseboards and molding were gigantic, another sign of an old home. No one built places like this anymore. The views of two lakes would be worth millions if this place was anywhere but Irish Hills.
But it needed work. That was clear. A lot of work.
“It’s a fixer-upper, I am fully aware. We’re slowlyworking on that. Whether I convince you that this is perfect for your investment or not, we’re shoring it up. My aunt had plenty of plans, but the details of managing these properties, I guess that’s why she needed me.”
“I think your aunt is brilliant. I’d hire you to slay my dragons if I could.”
“Don’t tempt me. I’m so furious at your driver, at that director. But I know you’ll be safe here, no one will know you’re here, and the fanboys can stalk your place in Beverly Hills all they want.”
“I appreciate it. Looks like the perfect place to set up my career strategizing command center.”
Libby helped her unload her stuff in the manager’s suite. Goldie was used to luxury, with every speck of dirt wiped away before she saw it. Unless she was on set; on set was a different scenario. She decided this was like the set ofSomewhere in Time, with Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeve. Maybe he’d pop out of an old pocket watch if she was lucky.
“Look, I know you must plan your attack on the patriarchy. And I’m actually worried for the patriarchy. That said, there’s a boat out there, a chair or two to lounge on, and other than the sound of outboard motors, it’s pretty quiet here. Maybe consider giving yourself an actual rest. Just be careful by the water. The beach is overgrown.”
“Thank you. This is a perfect hiding spot. People will expect me to be in Ibiza or the Amalfi Coast or The Hamptons.”
“Yeah, true, but take this from someone who is just now learning how to relax. You look like you could use a bit of downtime wherever it is.”
“I’d say we go over to the In and Out for live bait, find a ten-speed, bike around, and then, oh, what else, oh yeah, swim over to your raft?”
“YES! That’s the summer right there!”
“I’m good here, thank you. I think more than anything else, I’llnap. And maybe put on some of the weight I took off to play in that superhero movie.”
“I promise you Hope can help with that.”
“Go on, you don’t need to babysit me. I know you have stuff to do. Let the charms of the place work on me, and you work on your crusade to save the world.”
“Well, this little corner. You sure you are okay?”
“Yes, I’m very Greta Garbo.I want to be aloneis on my business cards.”
Libby looked at her and cocked her head. “Call me, text me, send a heron if you need anything. There’s one that thinks he owns this beach.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll text you dinner details. You’ll fall in love with this place. I guarantee it.”
