Page 21 of Out of the Gold

Her lips purse and she continues sewing the leggings. The mood in the trailer dives.

Maybe because I feel somewhat responsible for the cooler vibe—or maybe it’s how she shared a part of her childhood with me—I offer a piece of myself I usually keep private. “If it makes a difference, my parents were always working. They’re partners at a major Chicago law firm, and they prioritized their careers over my sister and me. You know Lindsay, right?”

In a clipped tone, she replies, “I do.” She continues the stitches.

Wanting to defend my folks, I continue, “I mean, they weren’t bad parents. It’s just that they were mainly absent. They did get us nannies, though.”

Her hands bend my knee. “I didn’t have a nanny. Mom was—still is—Hunte’s tour accountant, so she worked from home. And as I mentioned, my dad’s schedule revolved around mine growing up.”

“I can’t imagine having both parents around that much.” I chuckle. “Did they get in your way as you grew up?”

Melody’s hand drops from my leg and she fiddles with the rubber band around her wrist. “No, they didn’t. I loved having them around.”

They were her support system. Huh. So different from how my sister and I grew up. Although I should have paid more attention to, essentially, raising her. Melody grabs the material around the bottom of my knee, and I concentrate on her stitching rather than go down that rabbit hole. Again.

Her obvious love for her parents gives me the opening I need. “I hear a movie about Hunte is in the works.”

She nods. “Yes, my dad’s very excited. I told him I was going to cheer him on from afar. I don’t want to have anything to do with the film except to support him and walk the red carpet.”

Given the fact she mentioned kids tried to use her to get to her father, this response shouldn’t surprise me. It also shuts down my line of inquiry. Crap.

The door opens. Whoever it is, I’m grateful for the relief from this awkward conversation with the intriguing girl on her knees. Thomas bounds into the trailer.

“Hey, Chase.”

Relief buzzes throughout my body at my PA’s welcome intrusion. “Hey. What’s cooking?”

He drops his bag on the sofa. “Got some stuff to go over with you. Is now a good time?”

Thank God. I’ll take his frivolous questions over the prolonged silences and stilted conversation—not to mention the unwanted lure—Melody provides. “Sure is.” I point down. “Looks like we have half a leg.”

“I’ll talk fast.”

The woman on her knees mumbles something unintelligible. Ignoring her, I say, “What’s up?”

Thomas starts, “What are your plans for tonight? Do you need me to arrange any—” His eyes dart to Melody.

I roll my eyes, “Anyone?”

He licks his lips and Melody tightens the material around my leg. “Well, yeah.”

In a teasing tone, I reply, “I’m good.”

He expels the air in his lungs and shoots me a dirty look. I make the “what?” motion, and he juts his chin toward Melody. I raise my shoulders.

“May I ask what you’re doing tonight? Do I need to set anything up with the press?”

“Nah. Mark and I are hitting the hotel bar.”

“That’s it?”

I grin. “Sorry to disappoint. Filming’s been brutal, and we’re both running on empty. We decided to go out for a quick drink and hit the sack early.”

He clicks his pen and scribbles something down on his clipboard. “Tomorrow’s a free day, you know. Do you have plans for that?”

“I’ve been invited to go to Positano.”

“Yeah, a bunch of us are heading over there.”

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