“You got his number?”
I still had it plugged into my phone from back in the day. “I’ll call the switch, ask to be put through.”
“Can you get him to spill?”
“No problem,” I said confidently. I gave my phone a voice command to call Wyatt Talent, put it on speaker, and set it down on the table between us. Jack and I watched each other as it rang through.
JJ’s eyes seemed different again today. Almost baby blue.
The call picked up. “Wyatt-Talent-this-is-Sarah-how-may-I-help-you?”
It didn’t take long before I was speaking with Craig Wyatt himself, who was in his car on the way somewhere important, I assumed. Craig was always on the way somewhere important. “Miller Beaumont! Good to hear from you, kiddo. Hope you’re keeping busy.”
“Yeah,” I said. “For sure, Craig. It’s good to hear you, too. But listen, I wanted to know if you’d heard from Annie recently? Like, in the last few days?”
There was a long pause. Then he said, “Not for a couple of weeks, kiddo.”
I plowed on. “I was wondering what roles she’s up for right now?”
He chuckled. “Miller, kiddo, I love you, but you know I can’t talk to you about Annie’s business. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
“She wouldn’t mind,” I insisted, hoping Craig wouldn’t know it was a lie. “I was just wondering if she was up for a big role some time soon, or if she’d been offered something? Because she’s talking about dying her hair and I just think, you know, it’d be a bad move. Career-wise. Um. You know?” I finished awkwardly, because I couldn’t think of any convincing reason why I’d be obsessed with my sister’s hair color.
Craig said nothing.
“I was just thinking,” I started again, “if she’s up for something big, that’d be one thing, but…uh…” I petered out.
Jack gave me a sarcastic, silent clap.
“She told me you weren’t getting her enough work,” I blurted out, inspiration finally striking. “She told me she thought changing her hair might help.”
“Listen, kiddo,” Craig broke in, sounding annoyed, “maybe a few offershavelowballed her recently, but I’m doing the best I can. It’s a tough town. As for the hair, I have no idea. Your sister does what she wants, and I’m usually the last to hear about it.”
“Lowballed her?” I repeated.
“I can’t say any more, Miller.” The conversation was over; I could hear it in his voice. “Anyway, it’s been great talking. If you wanna pick up some work, seriously, call into the office some time. I could get you something, anytime. Kid star comebacks are huge right now. Have yourself a great day.”
He hung up before I could say anything else.
CHAPTER17
JACK
Confusion clouded Miller’seyes as the call ended. He shook his head, a little frown tugging at his brows, but I said nothing, figuring that he’d like a little time to process.
“I thought she was doinggreat, career-wise,” he said at last. “And like, does myDadknow she’s slipping? Craig's a good friend of his. Although—maybe my Dad’s pissed athimfor not getting enough work for Annie.”
“Or maybe your sister was embarrassed to admit it—to your fatherorto you,” I said, and thought about adding some whiskey to his coffee to help him calm down. But I didn’t want him tipsy. I wanted him focused. Plus it was barely noon.
Miller glared at me, but I could tell he was pissed at the world in general, not me, specifically. I hoped so, anyway. “Whatelsewas she keeping secret?” he asked.
“Time we found out. Let’s get over to her house. I have an address for her out in Malibu. That right?” Miller nodded. “Then let’s go, Trouble.”
I’d found action was the best antidote to depressive wallowing, and it worked for Miller, too. “I’ll drive,” he said.
I half-regretted agreeing to that condition when I saw his car. It was the same luxury convertible model that Anaïs Beaumont liked to feature in some of her socials, only Miller’s was a bright blue where his sister’s had been red. He’d left the damn top down, too.
“Okay, hold on there,” I said, as Miller reached for the door handle.
