Page 83 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

“I’m the only detective you know.” Her tone leaves no room for delicious butter. She’s on the job now. “First questions: Does Zach have any acting experience? Is he a professional actor?”

Easy question. “We were in Paradise’s production ofHairspraywhen we were fifteen. Does that count?” I sit up straighter, ready to spill everything I know.

“What role did he play?”

“Mr. Pinky.”

“Hmmm.” Whatever clue this is for Cassie, she keeps it to herself. “Was he any good?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation, then quickly add, “except when he had to sing.”

He had a hard time learning lines, but Zach had the same charisma on stage as he does off. That’s why my fans love him in even the shortest clips Stella posts.

“And did this role lead to bigger roles?” She asks. “Has he starred on Broadway? Anything on TV?” Cassie sounds like she’s actually working a case and I’m a witness, but I sense some sarcasm in her tone.

“No. He’s never done any acting since then, except on my show.” I set aside my cereal bowl, but my stomach still rumbles with hunger.

“Okay. Got it.” A pen clicks in the background, and I hear another sound I can only assume is Cassie flipping her notebook closed. “I think I’ve cracked this case wide open.”

Yeah, definitely some sarcasm there. But I bite anyway. “And? What’s the verdict?”

“Guilty!” she cries. A loud tap follows, which I decide is a cup hitting a table like a judge’s gavel.

“Guilty of what?” I know she’s not taking any of this seriously. That doesn’t mean I don’t want her opinion.

Cassie lets out an exasperated sigh. “Of being in love with you, Georgia.”

The world stops as I let those words sink in. It takes a while. I don’t know why. I guess because for so long, I’ve convinced myself Zach couldn’t love me. But if Cassie is right, then I still have to convince myself of something else.

“But do you think he’s in love with me enough for it to last forever?” I clutch the phone to my ear, not sure I want the answer.

“Georgia, I’m not a psychic.” Officer Cassie is gone. Her tone is soft and gentle now. “Even if I were, I couldn’t predict whether you’ll last forever. No one can.”

I blow air out of my cheeks in one long breath. “That’s not exactly the answer I was looking for, Cass. I need to know if my friendship with Zach can survive a romance with him.”

“Only you and Zach can answer that question. You two are the renovation experts, but in my opinion, friendship is the best foundation for a lasting love.”

My mouth opens, but I have to blink a few times before I find words. “Dammmmmn, girl. With advice like that, you should be a therapist. Or write Hallmark movies.”

“I know, right? Those words just came to me without even trying.”

“They were very good words.” I’m joking with her, but I’m also one-hundred-percent serious. “You’re very wise, and if you ever get tired of sleuthing, you really should take up writing.”

Now Cassie laughs. “The closest I’d ever want to get to writing is owning my own bookstore.”

“In a small town?” I rush to ask. “Because there’s an old auto shop here that I’ve wanted to turn into something pretty, and a bookstore would be perfect! You could live your own Hallmark movie!”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Cassie sounds serious again, and I can’t tell if she’s messing with me or really thinking through my idea. “But I’d need a love interest. Does Zach have any brothers who aren’t taken?”

“He does, in fact. Bear is five or six years younger than you.” I carry my empty bowl back to the kitchen and search the cupboards for something else to eat.

“Oh, a younger man. I like the idea of a cougar era for me. But is he blonde? I prefer men tall, dark, and handsome,” Cassie purrs.

“He’s definitely tall—bigger than both his brothers. And handsome, in a rugged, lumberjack kinda way. But very blonde.” I know Cassie too well to think she’d ever really leave LA, let alone fall for a small-town guy like Bear.

“A blondie named Bear?” Cassie hums. “I guess I could live with that. Tell me more.”

“His name’s actually Bjorn, but I’ve never heard anyone call him that since he was three years old and almost as big as Zach and Adam but still carrying around his blankie.” I snort at the memory of baby-giant Bear sucking his thumb and cuddling with his blanket. “Everyone calls him Bear as much for his size as for his teddy bear disposition. He’s a big softie.”

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