Page 17 of Happy Trails & Honey Pots

8

MILES

“I’m going out for pizza,”I relayed as I drove along Seaside Lane on my way to the pizza parlor. As I looked out over the horizon, I was once again in awe of the natural beauty here on the island. The sun had set, and lightning bugs were hovering above the sand. The moon shone like diamonds across the ocean’s surface. Waves crashed on the shore.

“You’re going out forpizza?” Braxton repeated what I’d just told her, her voice coming through the speakers of my rental SUV.

I could understand her confusion. It wasn’t in my usual diet.

“Yes.”

“And Zoe is going to be there, I presume.”

“I didn’t ask, but I think she is.” Zoe hadn’t actually even spoken to me at the ballfield. If anything, she was actively ignoring me.

Walter had given me Harlan’s phone number last night at dinner, and we’d arranged to meet at the game tonight. Dawson met us there when he got off his shift at the fire station, and they invited me to join them for pizza.

The two men were really open to talking about Austin. They’d shared so many stories about their childhoods that had given me insight into him. Like Walter had said, he got into a lot of trouble before meeting Zoe. Once he met her, all of his energy was focused on her.

“You know you don’t need her approval to move forward with the project.”

“I know.” That wasn’t why I was going. If that were the reason, I would be driving back to the boarding house. Zoe had seemed less than enthusiastic when she heard Harlan extend the invitation to Slice of Heaven.

“In other news,” Braxton changed the subject. “Tyler sent two new scripts for you to look at. He wants an answer by tomorrow.”

“Are they any good?”

Braxton always prescreened scripts. She had an eye for good material. Even if the writing needed work or the characters needed development, she could see through all of that. I had big plans for her in my newly formed production company—plans I hadn’t spoken to her about.

I was going to miss having her as an assistant, but her talents were being wasted on keeping my schedule, making travel arrangements, handling emails, and basically running my life. She was capable of so much more. Once we started principal photography on Fallen Hero, I was going to fire her…as my assistant and promote her to head of production and acquisitions at Ford Entertainment.

“One has potential. The other is a hard pass.”

“Leave potential on my bed, and I’ll read it tonight. Do you want me to bring you any pizza back?”

“No!” Braxton exclaimed. “Mrs. B insisted I have two helpings of her lasagna, and then she just showed up at my door with double fudge brownies. And I still have half the cinnamonroll from breakfast this morning. We’ve been here a little over twenty-four hours, and I swear I’ve already put on five pounds.”

I grinned. “You’re loving it.”

“I am,” she easily agreed.

As stubborn and ‘insistent’ as Mrs. B was, Braxton would never be talked into anything. She did not get peer pressured or let other people’s expectations of her affect the way she moved through the world. It was one of the things that impressed me the most when I met her.

After being in this business so long, I was accustomed to ‘yes people’ and people who would say or do anything to get ahead or to get what they wanted. Braxton was not that way. She had a very strong sense of self and self-worth, and she protected and guarded it fiercely. She was never rude or unkind, but she also never allowed anyone to make her feel like shehadto do or say anything.

I’d told her on several occasions she needed to do a TED Talk or write a book because I didn’t know many twenty-five-year-olds who had achieved that level of actualization. Hell, I didn’t know many forty-five-year-olds who had, and Braxton had shown up at twenty fully formed.

“But, if Ikeeploving it,” she continued. “I’m not going to fit in any of my jeans by the time we get back to LA. Oh, hold on. I have another call. Night.”

“Night.” The line disconnected as I pulled into the parking lot of Slice of Heaven. It was beside the Firefly Pier and overlooked the ocean. The building was wood with a metal roof and reminded me of a beach shack.

I walked up the wooden steps and noted a deck that wrapped around to the back, overlooking the ocean. There were string lights hanging above and picnic tables. It was much like the rest of the town—quaint.

When I opened the door, the scent of freshly baked bread, garlic, herbs, and tomato sauce caused my mouth to water. It was either that or the woman I saw waiting in line. Zoe had her back to me and was one of the only people who hadn’t turned when I entered. Soft rock music played, and the tables were filled with people I’d seen at the ballpark.

“Hey man, glad you made it.” Harlan rose from a chair to my left as I walked inside.

“Thanks for the invite.”

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