Page 8 of Heart Set on You

Acting had become my passion in high school. When I landed my first major role, Dad was the one who talked through it with me, making sure the deal was in my favor. When the series released a year later, both my parents were there to make sure fame didn’t go to my head. My dad taught me to stay focused, to keep my eye on the prize and not be distracted by the shiny things that could quickly derail my career. I didn’t always follow his advice, sometimes losing myself to Hollywood and all of its temptations. But I was young and successful, and settling down was the furthest thing from my mind. I just wasn’t ready. In the past few years though, the hookups and one-night stands have gotten old. At 25, I’ve had my fun and now the novelty of a different woman in my bed every week has lost its appeal.

When the time is right, I’d love to bring the one home to my family. Someone who wants me for me and not my bank account or my fame. Someone who values family as much as I do.

More and more, I find myself wondering what it would be like to have someone to call mine. Someone to come home to after a long day on set. A girlfriend in the seat beside mine at family dinners.

Settling into the back of the town car I often use to travel to and from set, I dial my dad’s number. I wait for him to pick up as the car pulls out into downtown Vancouver traffic. The time difference and my hectic schedule have made it more complicated to get in touch with my family who live in Reed Point, a few hours outside of New York. The car heads north towards the Lion’s Gate Bridge and my rental home 20 minutes outside of the city. When he picks up, I feel the tension in my shoulders after a long day ease. My dad has always been able to center me.

“Miles, how are you, son?”

“I’m good, Dad. On my way home. How are you and Mom?”

“Everything’s fine here. Your mom misses you. You know how she gets when her kids are gone for too long,” he says. I’ve gotten used to being away from home more than I’m there, but I know it always takes its toll on my mom. “She’s been busy with Ellie, getting everything ready for the baby. It helps that she has something to focus on.”

“You better be careful,” I tell him. “She’s going to spoil that kid rotten.”

“It’s true,” he chuckles. I imagine him in his leather chair in the family room watching a baseball game on TV. “The baby is all she ever talks about. It’s beautiful. I still have a hard time believing your brother is going to be a dad. How’s filming going? Everything running smoothly?”

“So far, so good. Josh is a machine. You’d appreciate the way he does business. I’m hoping to introduce you.”

“I’d like that. We’ll find a time to come out and see you,” he says. “Any plans tonight?”

“Not tonight. Just a workout, then I need to get organized for next week. Josh has a few of us visiting the children’s hospital here. I had Georgia clean out most of the Vancouver Canucks merch to bring along with me.”

“Good work, son. I’m proud of you. That’s what it’s all about.”

He’s right. Seeing the kids’ faces light up for a few minutes was always worth the heartache these visits brought. It always puts things into perspective.

“I’m home now, Dad. I’ll let you go. I’ll call you this weekend. Say hi to Mom.”

“I will. I love you, Miles.”

“I love you too.”

The sun is setting when the car stops in front of the large house on the ocean. My home away from home. Come to think of it, I’m not sure where home is anymore. I haven’t spent more than three weeks in Reed Point with my parents and siblings in the past six years. I own homes in Los Angeles and London, but I never seem to live in either of them for more than a few days at a time.

I walk the stone pathway to the front doors. The house is quiet and dark, but it won’t stay that way for long. My brothers and their significant others are arriving on Tuesday from Reed Point, staying with me here in my rental.

I strip off my clothes, changing into an old T and gym shorts, and hit the downstairs gym. I do reps followed by a gruelling run on the treadmill and by the end of it my shirt is soaked, my chest heaving. Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting on the balcony attached to the master suite, taking a sip from my whiskey. I tilt my head to the jet-black night and the stars I always miss when I’ve spent too much time under the smog-filled skies of LA.

I find myself wondering what the pretty PA is doing tonight. Having a drink at a bar? In bed reading a good book? Her faint accent is still crisp in my mind. The way she says “y’all.” It’s such a fucking turn-on.

Tomorrow I plan on bringing my A-game.

Chapter Six

Rylee

The rain Vancouver is known for is coming down sideways. I’m juggling a coffee in a to-go cup in one hand and an armful of shopping bags in the other, the plastic digging into my skin as I exit Choices Market. It was dry when I left the hotel and I’m not prepared for the downpour, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It’s Saturday afternoon and I have the day off. Abby wanted me to go for lunch, but I have too many errands to run to get ready for the week ahead.

I also needed this day off to reset, to put distance between me and the man I’ve found myself way too caught up in. I can’t seem to erase Miles from my mind. I keep seeing his big hazel eyes, feeling the heat of his stare. I tossed and turned all night trying to make sense of it all. How can he be into a girl like me? A girl he doesn’t even know. I tell myself I must be reading this all wrong. It must be my imagination. But I know what I feel every time our eyes meet. There’s something there. It feels real.

Standing under the awning, I mentally prepare myself to make the dash in the rain to my hotel, which is located 10 or 12 blocks from here. I could have called an Uber, but I need to watch my spending. When I return home to Deer Lake, I want to contribute to my grandparents’ expenses, and who knows how long it will take me to find a good job that will pay me anywhere close to what I’m making in the film industry.

I release a heavy breath, dashing out from under the awning and into the pelting rain. I’m instantly soaked, my cotton T-shirt sticking to my skin, a shiver rolling over me. I make it roughly one block when a car speeding down the street plows through a puddle, splashing water up one side of me. Dammit. This is not how I saw my day going.

Hiking the bags higher up my arm, I keep going.

I’m startled when a voice shouts my name from somewhere in traffic. I turn to face the road, where a large, black SUV has pulled over to the side. The window is down and when my eyes focus through the rain, I see him in the driver’s seat. Miles.

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