Page 67 of Mister Mom

“My mom had a rule during the holidays. Everyone does something. I always did desserts with my sister. I guess I never realized she did the majority of the work.” His lips tip up at the corner in that ‘I kind of really knew that though’ way.

“I bet your sister has a lot of stories about you.”

He pours me a glass of wine and places it in front of me. “It’ll be a long time before you meet Charlie.”

“Charlie’s your sister?”

He twists open his beer bottle with his shirt, granting me a sneak peek of that taut stomach that sends a thrill straight to my girly parts.

“Charlotte, actually, but the entire town calls her Charlie. She recently just hooked up with my best friend from high school.”

My eyes widen. “You allowed that?”

He chuckles, his head falling back. “You’ll understand how I have zero control over what she does or doesn’t do when you meet my sister.”

The fact he’s implying that I will one day meet her calms the nerves that have been running like a freight train through my veins lately. I mean, is Vance really different than every other man in this town? He feels different, but this city sells fantasy for a living.

“Plus”—he rolls his eyes—“she’s loved him since she was a kid, so I kinda think she deserves him and I couldn’t have handpicked a better guy for her. They’re expecting their first child together and I’m telling you… I couldn’t be more excited to be an uncle.”

I sip my wine, admiring the way he talks about his family. There’s a warmth in his voice that seems to be reserved only for them. Carver hated his and never even invited them to the baptism for either Payne or Via. I’m not a huge fan of mine since they siphoned money away from me when I was a kid, but I tolerate them. At times they were all I had.

“Tell me about your town,” I say, not wanting him to stop, wanting to know anything and everything about this man.

He leans against the counter, staring off toward the fridge. “It’s a small town in Oregon. One where everyone knows everyone’s business, but it’s also the kindest town with the best people. Yeah, it can take you about an hour to run an errand because of how many people you have to stop and chat up, but everyone wants the best for everyone. There’s fundraisers when someone has a hardship, a Christmas parade and a tree-lighting ceremony everyone attends. Sometimes I think I’ll end up back there if I visit too much, so I keep my distance.”

“Makes me wonder why you ever left.”

A soft laugh comes from his closed mouth. When he talks to his feet, his lips tip down for the first time in our conversation. “I wanted more. I wanted to be part of the rich and famous lifestyle, wanted to be the superstar.” He shrugs.

“How many scripts have you sold?”

He raises his head and inhales a deep breath. “This is my first.” His voice is so low I can barely hear him.

“Then what have you been doing? Did you come down here to act originally?” I sip my wine, wondering if I’m prying too much, but he’s been so open tonight and I figure he’ll tell me if I am.

“No, I wanted to be a scriptwriter since I moved to L.A. a decade ago. My first one was horrible and I kept getting rejections. Eventually all the money I had saved up was gone and I had to find a job.” He downs a big gulp of beer. “I took a job as an assistant to an assistant of a producer. Over the years, I climbed my way up.”

“Long hours, I bet.”

He huffs. “Yeah, but then last year I realized I hadn’t been happy for a while and decided it was time to finally do what I set out to do. Try to make the dream happen.”

I smile. “That’s awesome. That takes a lot of guts.” I lean across the counter. “Makes me want to act even better for your film so it’s a success.” I laugh so he knows I’m totally joking.

He nods. “I still wonder if it’s actually going to happen. I’ll believe it when I’m walking down that red carpet.”

I place my hand on his forearm. “It will happen and it’s going to be a great success. I have intuition on these things.”

“Unless you’re psychic, I’ll be one breath from an anxiety attack until then.” He chugs the rest of his beer and the bottle clinks onto my granite countertop.

“So, what did you produce? Anything I’d know?”

The buzzer goes off for the cookies and Payne runs into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mommy!” He gives me a quick hug and then looks at Vance. “Are they ready?” He’s jumping up and down, excitement brimming out of him.

“Hold on, let me get them out.” Vance takes the tray out and the circular sugar cookies look lightly browned and the perfect amount of crisp.

“I’d say you do that pretty well.”

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