“He thinks you should consider it.”
“And give you the role because you’re my sister? You don’t even like the superhero universe.”
“Neither do you. You only like the profits. I’m forty-one. I need an action role to stay young.”
Running my hand over my forehead, I swiped my hair out of the way. “I’m a businessman, Bill. Of course I’m concerned with profits. You know I’m using an executive producer on this because I’m here and it’s got to go into production. He’s doing cast selection. Sean Weathers. Call him.”
“Fabrizio—”
Another laugh interrupted her. “Does he think people really believe that’s his name?”
“Who cares? He’s a good agent. He wants you to call Sean.”
“No. I have to go.”
“Where are you?”
“Dealing with some unfinished business.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll send you Sean’s number. Do what you want. In my opinion, it’s the wrong role for you. You’re not an action woman. You need a bigger role in a dramedy. But what do I know? I only have two Academy Awards…and maybe a third forSuper Lady.”
“Don’t be an ass, Ford.”
“I’m not. I gotta go.” I disconnected the call before she could ask any more questions. Billy had been a necessary distraction when I’d run away from Jamie. She was partying too much while on a semester abroad in Europe. The family name was in jeopardy, and more important, she was blowing too many opportunities. I cleaned up her mess, brought her back to the States, made sure she was back in school, and I created a name for myself. My mom was happy, so she let us be, which was always the goal when it came to Beatrice.
Back then, Billy had lived with me for a year and a half while finishing college on the West Coast and auditioning for roles. Problem was, since then Billy thought she was entitled to know everything about my life. At the moment, I’d had a long day that I looked forward to ending on a sweet note and not under Billy’s inquisition.
I took a long breath and turned toward the back seat in the extra Tesla my family kept around, and grabbed my secret weapon. It wasn’t Billy’s business where I was heading. She’d turn into a meddling baby sister in a matter of seconds if she knew what I was up to.
My destination was a tiny row house, red brick and steeped with character. It was exactly as I imagined.
Banging the door knocker, I heard Jamie say, “Who’s there?”
“Special delivery,” I called out.
“Ford?” My name rang out from behind the door. So much for her not knowing my voice.
The lock clicked and the door opened to a more familiar Jamie in leggings, oversized sweatshirt hanging off her shoulder, and her hair in a messy bun.
“What are you doing here? More important, how are you here?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I can’t say.”
“Ashley,” she growled.
“Poor girl can’t resist my charm, but she doesn’t want to lose her job.”
“She can’t tell people where I live.”
“I’m not people.” I shouldered my way into her foyer, thinking she might not invite me in.
With the door closed behind me, I watched Jamie peruse my body. Her gaze started on my own eyes, working its way down my black button-down shirt from earlier to my jeans and the black Adidas on my feet.
“Are you going to harvest my kidney?” She gestured toward the cooler bag.
“No, I’m here with ice cream. Since you didn’t have any to dip your fries into at lunch.”
