She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something, then fell into step. “Chris and I have been rehearsing, Jesse. I love the way you wrote Esther and Hamilton and their love. But I always get the sense there’s more to the story. What were you thinking or goingthrough when you wrote it? I’d love to read the letter that inspired it all.”
“Lots of things.”
“Are you ever going to tell me the rest of the story?”
He studied her for a moment. She had a story she’d never told him. “Areyouever going to tellme?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t searched the Internet. Just type in Chloe Daschle. It’s the first hit.”
“I’d rather hear it from you.”
She peeked in one last box on the table by the door. The one from Aunt Pat. The original letter was inside. Along with the articles about Loxley.
“Is the letter in there?” Chloe snatched her hand away when Jesse moved the box. “Is it?”
“Yes.” He closed the flap, setting the box aside. He didn’t care if she knew about Grandpa Hamilton and Esther Longfellow. But he cared, for now, if she knew about Loxley. “Who’s hungry for pizza?”
“People are going to want to know, Jesse, about the letter,” she said. “It will be a part of the movie’s promo.”
“I know. And it’s not the letter. You ready to go? I’m starved.”
“If it’s not the letter, then what?” She tugged her phone from her pocket. “And yes, I’m ready. Let me text Kate... and you know, if we’re going to be friends, one of these days we’re really going to have to be honest with each other.”
“Okay, but which one of us wants to go first?”
CHLOE
October
Am I late?” The first table read ofBound by Lovewas at Jeremiah and Laura’s. Filming would begin in two months on locationin Chesnee, South Carolina, where part of the crew was already stationed, prepping for production.
“Chris is not here yet, so no.” Laura welcomed Chloe with an embrace, then led her through the house.
The aromas from the kitchen were incredible.
Laura recounted tonight’s menu. “Prime rib and duck. I told Jer this will be the fastest table read in history.”
“Forget the table read, let’s eat.” Chloe stepped onto the lanai and was greeted by a chorus of hellos and affection. People she’d known one way or another throughout her Hollywood life rose to welcome her.
Derrick Hall, another old friend of Dad’s, played her on-screen father. “My daughter,” he said, wrapping her in his slender arms. “I knew the truth would come out one day. You are Rachel’s and my love child.”
Sir Craig Townsend, who was quintessentially British and playing General Cornwell, laughed. “In your dreams, Derrick, my good man. In your dreams.” The acclaimed actor had been named CBE for the queen’s birthday honors in the early nineties. He was kind and gentlemanly, perfect for General Cornwell, a General Cornwallis–like character. “I’m delighted to see you cast in a living role, my dear.” He kissed Chloe’s cheeks.
“You and me both.”
She moved on to Milka Hardaway, a rising, black actress cast as Millie, the house negro. “Excited to work with you,” Chloe said.
“And I you. Plus, who can resist a Jeremiah Gonda film?”
“I know, right?”
She made her way around the table, greeting and talking. Felt like old-home week. Jesse sat at the end of the table, watching her, nodding when their glances crossed.
Since their pizza date, she hadn’t seen much of him. They crossed at the pool one Saturday afternoon. He’d been in Vancouver for three weeks shooting a small part in a romcom.
“Got to work when you can get it.”
“You canenjoyyour success, Jesse,” she said, across the back lawn one Saturday morning.
