“Briefly. I’ll stick around long enough to introduce the crew and get you started.”
She was curious about how he’d spend the rest of the day, but maybe he would be looking into the legalities of Sarah’s father sending her mail. Remy didn’t offer anything more, however.
“Great.” She forced a smile, hoping it brought an easiness to her voice she didn’t feel. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”
Disconnecting the call, she held the phone for a long time afterward. She’d meant what she’d said about not falling for him. She couldn’t afford that kind of hit to her heart—not so close on the heels of what had happened with Patrick.
It was a shame, her heart whispered just before she fell asleep. Because if ever there would have been an amazing guy to take another chance with, it would have been Remy.A caring father, a generous lover, a talented professional…he possessed so many qualities she wanted in a man. But his wife’s death might very well have robbed him of the ability to love another woman the same way. Finding that out would be enough to break a woman’s heart—not just for six months, but possibly for the rest of time.
Chapter Thirteen
Sarah stared throughthe lens of camera number three, a stationary angle that would record the cash register and front counter of Last Chance Vintage on a continuous basis.
Finally, she was working behind a camera and learning something about how a television show came together. Who needed a college education when she could assist a super-successful producer like her dad? She’d waited too long to learn more about her mother’s career and talent. Now, she’d never have the chance to see her working in her studio again. But there was no reason she couldn’t learn more about her father’s world and experience it for herself. The day would be perfect, if not for a trip to the police station hanging over her head.
Shoving thoughts of the letter aside, she played with the focus on the camera, seeing what all the buttons did.
The morning sun shone bright through the front windows of the store crowded with her dad’s production crew and—it seemed like—half the population of Heartache, Tennessee. Twenty people milled around thefront of the building, waiting for the store to open so they could be a part ofInterstate Antiquer.
At least, that was her dad’s perspective. She happened to know that all those people on the street were there for Erin because Erin had tons of friends.
Sarah sharpened the focus on the camera, bringing Erin into clear view at the front counter. Erin laughed at something Ally said a second before Mrs. Finley brought out a makeup brush to dust powder over Erin’s face.
“Aunt Erin looks great.” Ally rushed over to gush at Sarah’s side. She glanced down at the viewing window for the camera to see what the scene would look like once it was recorded.
Ally had taken the day off school to be present for the first day of filming. Of course, Ally had already gotten into Vanderbilt in Nashville, so she didn’t need to worry about her grades or her attendance record. Lucky.
“That outfit is killer,” Sarah agreed, admiring the tribal-patterned shorts Erin wore with dark lace leggings and knee boots. A creamy linen blouse topped it off and she wore her hair up in messy clip. “I’m glad she didn’t go too conservative like she was talking about with Trish at the clothing drive.”
“Although thisiskind of conservative for her,” Ally pointed out. “She’d been wearing a lot of Goth stuff up until last week. Even her hair is lighter now.”
Sarah wondered if the recent changes had anything to do with her father. The two of them had definitely spent a lot of time together in the past week and half. And Sarah had noticed her dad smiled at Erin more than he smiled at most people. Which was still hardly ever considering he’d turned a lot more serious in the past two years. But she had noticed.
Even now, her dad strolled over to Erin and Bethany to introduce the crew’s gofer who’d brought coffees for everyone. Erin smiled at the gofer kid as she thanked him. For the most part, though, Erin’s eyes seemed stuck to Dad.
“Ally, do you think your aunt likes my father?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. For so long, she’d been hoping he would stop grieving and living in the past.
Then again, she couldn’t picture him with anyone else but her mom.
“I don’t know, but it sounds like your dad is kind of a rock star with the mom crowd.” Ally raised her cell phone and snapped photos of the store and all the cameras.
“It’s weird. I have a teacher who practically drools when he comes into school for a meeting.” Sarah shuddered.
“You don’t live with your mom?” Ally asked while texting, not even looking up.
“No.” Sarah didn’t get asked the question very often. Back at school, everyone had known what happened to her mother thanks to the papers. The internet. The TV news every night for months during the trial. “She died a couple of years ago.”
Ally’s eyes flashed up to hers, her phone forgotten.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Her hand covered Sarah’s wrist in automatic sympathy.
Or was it empathy?
If she’d studied for her SATs, maybe she’d know. Either way, it felt nice.
“Thanks.” She didn’t mention that her biological father had been the reason that her mother was dead now. Or that Sarah was on her way to the police station to let them know what a twisted creep her DNA donor was.
Ally might not feel so sympathetic then. Swallowing back her nervousness about the police station visit, Sarah setthe camcorder on Auto-record and shuffled out of the way of one of the production guys carrying in an extra spotlight.
