Page 61 of Hot to Trot

Henry laughed like a deranged clown. And then he farted.

"Out!" Scarlet commanded, launching herself from the bed and pointing her nephew out the door. He complied, but not before farting again. "Henry!"

Brent appeared at the door. "What smells so bad in here?"

"Me!" Henry yelled before disappearing around the corner.

"Phew," Brent said, wrinkling his nose. "Rayne shouldn't have let him eat those black beans with the quesadillas tonight."

"Here, give him back his nasty shoes." She pinched the back of the tennis shoes and handed them to Brent.

He took them but didn't look happy doing it. "Hey, some guy called today. I told him to try your cell phone, but he said you never check your messages."

Only one person had teased her about that. "Who was it?"

Brent shrugged. "He didn't leave a name, but caller ID said Hammerstein. No first name."

John.

Scarlet's heart skipped a beat. How had he tracked her down to Serendipity? Duh. She'd been all over the news and John knew who her sister was. Wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out she was holed up at Serendipity Inn. "Oh, yeah. He's an old friend."

"Wouldn't be John Hammerstein, would it? The actor?"

"Um, yeah." Scarlet averted her eyes. She didn't want Brent to see the truth. He was intuitive - a trait she'd missed in him many years ago, mostly because her first impression of him was that only looking to get in a gal’s pants.

"What do you think he wanted?"

"What does any man want?"

Brent lifted his eyebrows. "Wow. You and Hammerstein, huh? He's like, what? Twenty or thirty years older than you?"

Scarlet bristled. "We're not together. Just old friends."

Brent grinned. "Stress on theoldpart, right?"

Aggravation flashed inside Scarlet. Yeah, John was older. Salt-and-pepper hair, white at the temples, craggy good looks, lean, only slightly paunchy in the middle. He had been more than capable in bed.Oldwas not a word she'd ever ascribed to John.

"That's none of your business. Did he leave a number?"

Brent stopped smiling. "Wait. This man, did he hurt you?"

Scarlet swallowed and tried not to look guilty. "We had mentorship, so to speak. And we had a disagreement, and I haven't heard from him in well over a year. Just surprised me. That’s all.”

Her new brother-in-law didn't look convinced, but neither did he probe further. "Check your cell phone. Maybe he called you on it. By the way, Rayne left dinner for you in the fridge. Some kind of cold soup she cooked on her first segment."

"I don't get quesadillas like Henry?"

"She makes her quesadillas with goat cheese."

"Soup it is. Then I'll call it a night."

Brent tromped off to do lord only knew what. Probably watch a ball game or read on the toilet or other guy-like activities, and Scarlet was left to wonder why her ex-lover had called. Was it because he'd seen the news? Was it something more?

Maybe she didn't want to know. Maybe she did.

She pulled her cell phone from the drawer she'd dumped it in. Most actors clung to them like holy grails, but Scarlet considered them to be rather crippling. She didn't have to play on TikTok while she waited in a grocery line and she didn't have to check her email every hour. She hated seeing everyone walking around looking at a stupid device. What was wrong with talking to an actual person?

Of course, it had come in handy with Destiny. So, they had their uses.

---