Page 5 of Hot Set

Mom smiles. “Is Forensic Files on your IMDB or are you just a fan?”

Bobby points a finger at her. “It’s always the husband.” He and Mom share a laugh as Bobby eases back onto the mound of pillows.

Mom drags the white toll painted desk chair she made for my eleventh birthday next to the bed. “Are you up for a littleChieftain’s Sondishing?”

“God, Mom. Let the man concuss in peace.”

She leans closer to Bobby. “I won’t spill any classified information. I’ve worked in television long enough to sign a trail of NDAs. I can be trusted. This is personal curiosity. Is that Jack O’Leary doing justice to the role of Donal Cam? I’ve never heard of the guy.”

Bobby rubs his temple.

I stand and crook my arm through my mom’s. “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’ll escort the crazy woman off the ward.”

He holds up a hand to stop me. “No, it’s fine. Talking about the show will bring me back from the brink of death.” He gestures downward with his hand. “Maybe at a slightly lower volume.”

Mom gives me a triumphant waggle of her head and leans back in the chair. “So, Jack O’Leary—discuss. Is he worthy to bring Deidre LaRochelle’s heartthrob off the page?”

“Throngs of women following him everywhere say yes.” Bobby shakes his head. “Poor guy can’t sneak out to buy toothpaste without inciting a fan tsunami.”

My mom clucks. “So, he’s pretty. Can he act?”

“Jack’s been a fixture on the Dublin stage for a few years now.” He snaps his fingers. “Have you ever caughtRandy in 6Bon BBC? He’s the fitness obsessed neighbor.”

“Nope.”

Bobby raises his eyebrows to me. “Are you a Randy fan?”

This actor who may be facing gum disease due to popularity piques my curiosity. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Jack was pretty damn hilarious. He pulls off an A-game airhead.”

Bobby starts to wilt.

“Okay, Duffer, back to the land of nod. Just don’t go in too far past the border.” I shoo Mom toward the door and call over my shoulder to the man in my bed. “See you in an hour.”

“And a half,” he says.

I chuckle. “And a half.” I would have enjoyed a big brother like him.

“Maybe by that time, Amethyst will have convinced you to join theChieftain’s Sonteam.”

An annoying big brother.

I close my eyes for a long beat. When I open them, Mom gives me the single eyebrow raise. Bobby has a shit-eating grin on his face. Double-teamed. I face my mother. “Bobby wants me to golf with someChieftain’s Sonfolks in a golf tournament.”

He shakes a finger at me. “I see you’re as wily as you are stubborn.” Bobby turns doe eyes on my mother. “Did Gillian tell youTraipse of Moonlighthas been a major tonal inspiration for my show’s vision?”

Mom shoots me a glance. “No, she did not.”

“So, I suppose she also neglected to mention my offer for her to join the writing staff of the show.”

“Holy mother of God,” squeaks my mom. “You said yes.”

“No, she did not,” says Bobby, parroting my mother.

Mom’s eyes widen.

“The offer is way out of my league,” I mutter, caught like a rat in a trap with no juicy chunk of cheese for consolation.

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