“Fine.” Since when did he ever care about my dad? They never got along, not in any of the years we were together.
“I saw your Instagram. Hanging out with big movie stars, huh?”
And now it makes sense. This is why he’s here—the movie.
He keeps chattering on. “Miles Casey. Wow. How’d you two meet?”
I sigh. “He’s part of the movie shooting at the castle. You must’ve heard about it.”
He flashes me a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Ma told me all about it. Is Natalie Rodriguez really directing? Did you meet her? I heard Ava Garreth is here, too.” Finn whistles. “Wow.”
I nod and set my coffee down on the table, feeling foolish. For a moment, just a nanosecond really, I thought Finn might actually want to catch up with me. Apologize, make amends. But he just wants to hear about all these fancy schmancy people. I’m about to leave when Miles walks in the door.
The last thingI want to do is sit here with my ex-boyfriend and my…well, whatever Miles is to me. He’s wearing a wool peacoat and a thick scarf, but even with those, he looks absolutely frozen. But when his eyes land on me, his whole face warms, a wide smile slowly spreading across his handsome mug. He walks over. A shadow crosses his features when he sees I’m not alone, but it’s gone as fast as a feather on a windy day.
“Miles!” Margie yells out. “I’ll get ye some coffee.”
“And some breakfast if you don’t mind.”
Margie waves at him. “No trouble at all.”
Finn stands and extends a hand. “I’m Finn McDougall. It’s nice to meet you.”
The shadow is back. Miles glances my way, so quick I don’t know what my face was doing. Miles takes his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m…”
“Miles Casey,” Finn supplies, as if the man had forgotten his own name.
I sink further into my chair. Could the cushions just swallow me up?
“Pull up a chair,” Finn says, motioning to Kate’s vacated chair.
Miles sits and smiles, but it’s not the beaming grin from when he first spotted me.
“How are you this morning, Skye?”
I nod. Uncomfortable. Wishing we were back on the island. “Okay.”
We all make idle chit-chat. Talking about the weather, of all things. I swear, is there a more boring topic of conversation than the weather? Miles tucks into his breakfast that Margie brings over, and we listen to the soft music over the speakers. The Beatles'Abbey Roadthis morning.
Then the music shifts, and my stomach drops like I’m on an untrustworthy elevator. Finn’s voice carries over the speakers, accompanied by an acoustic guitar.
He’s smiling into his coffee, tapping his foot along to the song. I’m surprised by this new, softer direction his music has taken. Before, hewas all electric, very influenced by bands like the Sex Pistols and the Buzzcocks. This sounds more like Elliott Smith. What I’m not surprised about is this shameless bit of self-promotion.
“What do you think?” Finn asks me.
I shrug. “It’s different from your usual style.” I actually really like it, but I don’t want to tell him that.
Finn smiles. “Just recorded it right before I left.” He turns to Miles. “You like music?”
Miles nods his cheeks full of a large bite of Scotch egg.
“I’ve been playing nearly my whole life. Still haven’t signed with a label. Weighing my options, you know.”
Miles swallows his bite. “Ah, yeah. I’ve heard it’s a hard business to break into.”
Finn shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. What about acting? How’d you get into that?”
Miles shakes his head. “Damned if I know. Just kind of fell in my lap, really, when I was a kid. My brother started acting, and one day they just put me in the movie too.”
