er you did in her bedroom yesterday morning?”
“I chased a peacock out,” he said, “but there’s no way she’d believe that. And if I told her the truth about Emmie’s dad, she wouldn’t believe that either. How do you disprove something that a person is absolutely sure is true? Casey has made up her mind about me, and I don’t know how to change it.”
“That is a tough one. My advice would be to let her spend time with your ex-brother-in-law and stay out of it. They’ll have some great bed romps and eventually, in a year or two, she’ll figure out that he’s a cad. Afterward, she’ll be so down she’ll finally look at an unattractive, cowardly guy like you. Problem solved.”
Tate blinked a few times, then laughed. “You have to meet my sister. You two will get along well. No advice for me?”
“None at all.” She leaned across the island toward him. “I don’t know either of you young men, so I’ll have to decide which of you to give the most votes to, but right now you are ahead in the polls. I don’t like that the Wickham guy went off and left Casey to find her way to the couch. He should have—”
“I sent the wine,” Tate said, sounding sheepish. “I sent two bottles because I hoped he’d drink too much and I knew she’d had a long day and…” He shrugged.
Olivia laughed. “Clever use of your enemy’s weakness, and that gets you another vote. Uh-oh.”
There was a step on the stairs and Tate immediately stood up. “I better go.”
“Who’s going to cook for you all summer? And don’t you have trouble learning lines?”
“Actually, I’m not a bad cook. I had a single mother, so it was necessary. And I have a bit of a photographic memory. At least for lines, anyway. I can—”
Olivia was glaring at him.
“Oh.”
She picked up her handbag and went to the door. “Be nice and don’t do the wounded-hero act. You’re not onscreen. Got it?” She waited for Tate to nod before she hurried out the door.
“What are you doing here?” Casey asked as soon as she entered the kitchen and saw Tate sitting on a stool at her island—the stool she’d already come to think of as belonging to Jack.
“Olivia let me in, fed me, and now I’m trying to think what I can say to get you to cook for me this summer. Any suggestions?”
Casey went to the dishwasher to unload it, but it was empty. “Did Olivia clean up the kitchen?”
“I guess so.” He was watching her, waiting for her to make a decision. “It wasn’t me, but I would have done it. Although if Olivia hadn’t been here I would have been too terrified to enter your house. She grabbed me by the shirt collar and pulled me inside. She is extraordinarily strong.”
Casey didn’t smile at his joke. Turning, she glared at him. “So it’s true that you’re spending the summer here?”
“Looks like I am. Jack’s director is sending a trainer for him so he’ll be in top shape for his next movie. I thought I’d use him too. The garage is being converted to a gym. If you want to join in, you’re welcome.”
“No thanks.” She took a breath. “Has Kit found someone to play Elizabeth?”
“I think he means for you to do it.”
“No!” Casey said. “Absolutely not.” She started for the door. “I will tell him that I’m not going to be in his play.”
“Please?” Tate asked loudly.
Casey hesitated, her back to him.
“I know you don’t like me and I’m sorry for that, but I promised Kit I’d help out. You were the only one in those auditions with me who had any talent. If one of those girls who think I’m some fairy-tale hero from my movies takes the role, the play will be a flop. Critics will come and butcher it all. Sales will fall off and it will be the charities that suffer. Maybe they’re impersonal, faceless organizations, but they still—”
“No, they’re not.” She looked at him. “The charities aren’t impersonal or faceless to me. A third of those proceeds will go to my mother’s clinic.”
“I hadn’t heard that. What kind of clinic is it?”
“Medical. In Appalachia.”
“That’s great,” Tate said. “The more tickets we sell, the more money your mother gets, right?”
Casey tightened her lips.