We moved when I was seven. I have memories of LA but they’re all hazy, like the sun is glaring in my eyes and I can’t quite see them clearly. I remember it was warm.
“I don’t know, Dad.”
“Right, well, her daughter, Natalie, reached out to me. She’s making a movie set here in the Highlands. Miles is the star. Very big movie. Nice people. She was looking for a castle… So, they’re going to film here. At Dun Loch Ness. It starts in two weeks.”
“What about the tourism board? Will they allow it?”
Dad’s neck is red. “There was a meeting the other day. Vote was unanimous. They're all on board.”
That’s how Kate knows. I can’t believe this. “You took it to a meeting before talking to me about it?”
Dad sighs. “Didn’t want to get your hopes up if they turned it down.”
“How long have you been working on this?”
He turns so I can’t see his eyes while he mutters, “A couple months.”
“Months?” I laugh, but it’s brittle. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“You can get worked up, and you’re not the biggest fan of strangers. I was worried how you’d take it.”
Not the biggest fanis putting it mildly. I agreed to the tours after many, many discussions with Dad, and look how well those turned out.
How long will they be here filming?Oh Lord. “Where are they going to sleep?”
“Pet, it’s a castle. We have more than enough room. That’s part of the problem, as you well know. They’re staying here, and they’ll be paying a pretty penny for it. Don’t worry.”?
I take a deep breath to ease the tightness in my chest. Miles Casey’s going to stay here. Sipping my coffee. Eating my food. Bathing naked in my tub.
I tell myself to pull it together. It’s been over a decade since I was that teenager with a crush. And despite my body’s reaction to the thought of being in close proximity with Miles, I don’t want to host a film production in our home. Who knows what hours they’ll keep, with their lights and camera and action. How will I be able to write with them here? What if they want to shoot in my library?
“I wish you had discussed this with me before agreeing to it. They're going to turn our home into a circus. What would Mom have said?”?
My father sighs, and guilt slicks my stomach. I shouldn’t have gone there.
“She would’ve understood there’s no other way to keep the lights on.”?
I don’t meet Dad’s gaze, knowing full well he’s right. I would be lying if the fact that it was a Miles Casey film didn’t make it so much worse. Why him? The only person I’ve ever sent fan mail to in my entire life. And after the letter he sent back...
There has to be another way.
“Maybe they’ll bring more of their Hollywood people and shoot more movies here. It could be a significant source of income for the future, too.”?
I put down my coffee and stride toward the doorway, shrugging on my jacket. My father follows me.?
“It might be fun even.” Dad reaches out to brush a lock of hair out of my face.
I put on a woolly hat, trying to tame the mass of auburn curls and to show him I don’t need his help.
“New faces, fresh perspectives. You’ll see, pet.”?
I bite my tongue, slip out of my fuzzy velvet slippers and into my wellies, and then I’m out the door.?
My trustyyellow bike is right where I threw it in the shed. The rain has died down, but the wind has picked up. It rushes against my cheeks, making what so far has been a truly terrible day a little bit brighter. Okay, not truly terrible—that’s a bit dramatic—but not great either. On top of my father not discussing this movie plan with me, I didn’t get to write. Not that it would’ve made any difference if I had.
Not one new idea has come to me since I submitted what I thought would be my best-selling book to my dream agent. Finally, I had written a book I felt was worthy of publishing.It was the one.The novel that would land a book deal, a best-seller, and a career writing something other than a detailed description of an air fryer.
Barely sixty minutes went by before the email appeared in my inbox. My heart caught in my throat as I’d opened the reply with shaking fingers then dropped into the pit of my stomach; you could almost hear the plop of it hitting acid like a bucket falling into a well.
