Page 1 of Wildest Dreams

KENDALL

“The rumors are true.”

I look around the monitor of my computer to see my best-friend-since-high-school/secretary, Patsy, standing in my office door. She’s bursting with excitement, bobbing up and down on her toes and making her long bleached-blonde ponytail swing like she’s a teenager instead of a thirty-year-old mother of five.

“What rumors?” I ask. “This town is so full of them it’s hard to keep up.”

“Duh. The rumors about the big movie filming here.”

I roll my eyes. “Why would Hollywood come to Magnolia Row?” It seems like a fair question. This town is about as dead as a rose in winter.

Patsy looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Um, because this town is beautiful, Kendall. Go outside. Take a look around every now and then.”

She has a point. Growing up here, it’s easy to forget the streets lined with magnolia trees, the riverside dotted by oaks draped with Spanish moss, and dozens upon dozens of historic mansions make for a picture-perfect Alabama postcard. To top it off, all that Southern charm is compounded by the fact that the town sits on the picturesque Florablanca River at a point where the water widens into a lake large enough for ski competitions and competitive bass fishing.

Honestly, though, it’s hard to see the beauty when I’ve been a bit of a cynical recluse since my divorce three years ago. I pretty much spend all my days either behind my computer at work, where I serve as one of the town’s only accountants, or in the apartment above my office, streaming true crime shows. Most days, it’s hard to imagine anything exciting happening here, much less a movie production.

“How do you know for sure?” I ask Patsy, who still has the energy of a kid at Christmas. “Did you see Chris Pine walking down the street or something?”

She rolls her eyes and smiles, showing off the charming little gap between her two front teeth. “No, a girl at my church works at city hall. A major production company came in and got all kinds of permits. They even have permission to shut down Main Street for a whole week.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Interesting. I guess I’ll be stuck here then.”

“That’s it? You’re not excited? Your office may be in an f-ing movie! We can be extras!” In high school, Patsy had the mouth of a sailor. Since giving birth to her first son ten years ago, she’s replaced curse words with their abbreviations.

I shake my head. “You can be an extra. I have work to do.”

“It’s not even tax season!” She waves her arms with exasperation. She means well, and I know she wants to see me get out more, but I don’t have the energy. Besides, this has to be another crazy rumor completely fabricated by a bored housewife with nothing else to talk about on the playground, like the rumor that Chick-Fil-A is opening a restaurant here or that Taylor Swift bought a vacation home on the river. These stories are never true. Nothing exciting happens here. Never has, never will.

“Look, when I walk outside and there’s a camera crew, I’ll believe it. Until then?—”

“Whatever. You don’t go outside! You won’t even see them! You’ll be hiding in your office or upstairs watching serial killer shows.”

“That’s not true!” I argue. “Sometimes I go to the grocery store.”

Patsy shakes her head. “You’re impossible, Kendall Abbey.”

* * *

Two weeks of Patsy’s non-stop speculation about the movie go by before I finally believe her.

It’s Friday morning, which means Patsy is late. Granted, she’s always late, but as the week progresses, she gets later and later. On Fridays, I’m lucky to see her by lunchtime. She gets a pass because she’s my best friend and, with five young boys at home, she gets tired. As a childless woman, I can only imagine.

The phone rings and I answer in my perky, not-depressed-and-alone, happy-to-help voice.

“Hi. I’m calling about a rental property in Magnolia Row?”

“Yes! The house on the lake?” This takes me by surprise. I had listed the house for rent online after my divorce, but for three years there’s been little to no interest in it. Maybe I set the price too high, but it was my dream house. I can’t get rid of it, but I also can’t bring myself to walk in the door. My heart would break all over again.

“That’s right. Is it still available? I’m with Sister Star Productions. We’re shooting a film nearby and would like to rent it for one of our actors. It would only be for a few weeks.”

“Oh my God.” I drop my professional tone and the words spill out of my mouth before I can regain my composure. “Is this a joke?” Patsy will never let me live it down if this is true.

“Excuse me?” The lady on the end of the line clearly thinks I’m an idiot or, at the very least, extremely rude.

“Yes, sorry.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “It is available.”

“Great! Send over your prices and contract and we’ll have a look at it.”

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