She nodded. “That I do know.”
Jack got a faraway look in his eyes. “King of the Saharawas on last night. I caught the tail end. Man, Dad was good, wasn’t he?”
“He was.” She watched him carefully. “So are you.”
“I’m all right.” His expression darkened but only briefly. “Teddy’s better. Teddy’s got that solid kind of presence, you know?”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s good, man. Dude is a rock. He’s been taking the boys hiking a lot lately. He’s dropped like twenty pounds.”
“For a role?”
“Nah, just getting active with the kids.” Jack propped his feet on the coffee table. “But you watch, he’ll get a new part soon with that trimmer physique. You know the camera loves thin.”
She did know that. Almost every single one of her clients had at one time or another complained about having to lose weight. And each of them were already thin. At least by civilian standards. “Hollywood is overboard on that.”
“No argument from me.” He put the water bottle to his mouth and tilted it back. “Hey, you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks. Was there much here? I haven’t been over here since I arrived, so I have no idea if there was anything in the fridge.”
“Nothing, but I ordered groceries. Had ’em delivered first thing this morning.” He grinned. “Well, not first thing. But early enough for me.”
“Then you’re all stocked up?”
“For a little while, anyway.”
“How long do you think you’ll be here?” She held her hands up. “Not that I’m trying to get you out. Not at all. You’re welcome here. I want you to know that.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. I know this is your place. You earned it, all that you did for Dad and Teddy.” He held the bottle in his lap, both hands wrapped around it.
“So what brings you here? You said something about trouble…”
He stared at the bottle like he was trying to mentally laser a hole through it. For a few long seconds, he said nothing. Then he looked at her. “You still do those NDA agreements with your clients?”
“Yes, I do.”
His feet came off the table and he sat upright, canted toward her. “I want to hire you. Go get one right now and I’ll sign it. Then we’ll talk, man.”
She tensed. “You’re serious.”
“As serious as a big summer swell at Zuma Beach.”
She got up. Jack would swear on his surfboard just as soon as he would a Bible. “All right. I’ll be back.”
She let herself out and went straight to the house. She took her laptop into the office, connected it via Bluetooth to the printer and without too much fuss, which was some kind of miracle, printed out a copy of her standard NDA. Maybe since she’d done it before for Mitch, when she’d printed his NDA out, the computer and printer had decided to play nice.
She grabbed it and a pen, and went back to the guest house, letting herself in. She put the NDA and the pen on the coffee table in front of him.
He leaned forward, glanced over the agreement, then looked at her. “Same one my dad and Teddy signed?”
“Same one.” She was still standing, so she sat, not wanting to loom over him and make him uncomfortable.
He gave it another cursory glance, then scrawled his signature on the bottom line. She took it from him and signed her name on the second spot. “I’ll make a copy of this and get you one.”
He nodded, looking slightly pained. “So, um…yeah, I have some trouble.” He raked a hand through his long hair, sighing like the weight on him was almost more than he could bear.
“Can I help?”
